Page 56 of Expecting Royal Twins!
The flower girls skipped into the church.
“It’s almost time, ma’am,” the wedding coordinator said.
Izzy’s heart slammed against her chest. Each fierce beat reminded her of the cannon being shot off during the royal orchestra’s performance of Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture at the Royal Hall on Tuesday night.
Another flourish of trumpets sounded. Rather, bugles, as Niko had called them. The signal. Her signal.
“Ready?” Rowdy asked.
Izzy would never be ready for this.
She glanced behind her at the massive wooden church doors. Two royal guards flanked either side. The instinct to run had never been stronger. But where would she go? What would she do? And who would clean up the mess she left behind?
She might not be a fairy-tale princess locked in a tower, but she was a prisoner of circumstance as was Niko. The two of them were stuck with each other. Better just make the best of it.
Shoulders back. Chin up. Smile. “I’m ready.”
Rowdy kissed the top of her hand. “You’re the daughter I never had. I’m proud of you. I know Frank would be, too.”
Tears stung her eyes. Rowdy’s words filled her with warmth. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
She took hold of his arm. Somehow she managed to lift her heavy feet and step into the church without tripping on her gown and falling on her face.
Dignitaries, royalty, even movie stars stood to watch her, but the faces blurred. She focused on the altar.
Her step faltered, but thanks to Rowdy’s strong arm no one realized her lapse.
Shoulders back. Chin up. Smile. And breathe.
Izzy needed to breathe or she was going to faint.
She neared the altar. Boyd wore a tuxedo and stood to the right in front of the pew where the king and queen sat.
Rowdy removed his arm from hers.
A tidal wave of doubt and apprehension surged down her spine. Izzy clutched the bouquet’s handle so hard it bent.
Rowdy gave her other hand a squeeze. The gesture reassured her. Then he placed her hand into Niko’s.
She stared at his neatly trimmed nails, smooth skin, strong hand. A husband’s hand. The father of her children’s hand.
His fingers clasped around hers. Tingles shot up her arm.
Breathe. Just breathe.
Slowly her gaze traveled to his sleeve—a gold braided cuff against black—and up his arm. He wasn’t wearing a tuxedo, but a uniform with gold braiding at the shoulders and a light blue sash, one of the colors from the Vernonian flag, worn diagonally across his chest. A thin row of white from his shirt collar could be seen at the top of the jacket. Ribbons and medals decorated the left side. He wore a thin gold belt around his waist.
He looked like a prince from the movies. Long, thick lashes framed familiar blue-green eyes. His straight nose complemented high cheekbones. Full lips contrasted with the sculpted planes of his face. A mane of brown hair fell to his wide shoulders.
He smiled, and his rugged features softened. Even his scar.
Tingles formed in her stomach.
Niko was almost too beautiful for a man, for a mere mortal. Yet here he stood, as if crafted by the angels in Heaven especially for her. Her heart sighed.
And that was when Izzy knew.
There was only one reason she’d agreed to remain married to Niko. He might not be Prince Charming, but that didn’t matter.
This might not be a love match for Niko, but it was turning into one for her.
She was already falling for her husband. And falling hard.
Niko stared at the woman standing next to him at the altar. Isabel wasn’t beautiful; she was stunning. With her light brown hair artfully arranged around a diamond tiara, she was the epitome of what a princess should look like. Her elegant white gown accentuated her curves and ivory complexion.
He should be happy. His people had rallied around this young American, but she wasn’t the princess bride he’d been expecting. Wanted. All his hopes and dreams for modernizing Vernonia had rested on his marriage to Julianna. Thanks to his father, Niko could forget about gaining entry into the European union for years, if ever. His most important duty now was to impregnate Isabel.
Not that he would mind the task, but the rest…
We will have to figure out what type of work it takes. Together.
Niko had no idea what working together with Isabel would be like. He’d never had the same girlfriend for more than a couple of months, and even then he hadn’t had a lot of free time. His best friend and closest partner had been his older brother, Stefan, who had kept Niko out of trouble and saved his life on at least two occasions. He didn’t know how to create a new relationship. Having seen his parents’ arranged marriage would help, but Isabel…
