Page 40 of Awakened On Her Royal Wedding Night
“We don’t have to. Are you tender from earlier?” He said that, but he was very hard and steely when she found his flesh beneath the covers.
“I want to. Can I try being on top?”
“You absolutely can, my beautiful treasure.” He helped her slide the warm silk of her negligee up to her waist.
Claudine’s mother had stayed behind in New York to make arrangements with her employer before coming to Nazarine. Felipe hired a nurse to assist her during the day as well as help her choose a specialist and make a plan for her ongoing care.
Claudine already missed her, but it was for the best that Ann-Marie didn’t travel with them. Their commitments didn’t stop once they left New York. They had engagements in several cities on their way back to Nazarine, attending meetings, dinners and appointments with every type of official including a lawyer who prepared their prenuptial agreement. Claudine also had more fittings and discussions with decorators along with interviews with staff.
Thankfully, their busy schedule meant they didn’t see Francois until a few days before their wedding. The Spare had not been so lucky with gaining approval for his own wedding date. Given that his bride, Astrid, was a royal in her own right, she had initially asked for a year to plan their lavish wedding. They had settled on three months from now.
Francois was not hiding his resentment. He was quoted in the papers saying various unpleasant things about Claudine and Felipe and their own rush to the altar.
Claudine wished she could have avoided him indefinitely, but she was forced to attend a gala with the entire royal family where she finally came face-to-face with him for the first time since that horrible night on his boat.
She was standing with the King and Queen when she saw him approaching. She barely looked at his fiancée. Her heart had begun to beat wildly and she unconsciously stepped closer to Felipe.
His arm slid around her, firm hand closing on her waist while the rest of him remained relaxed but ready. His shuttered gaze watched his brother with undisguised contempt.
Felipe’s lack of fear, and the calm reassurance he radiated that he would protect her, gave her the courage to stand tall and look Francois in the eye when he turned from greeting his parents.
“Felipe, you’ve met Princess Astrid. Claudine, I doubt you would have crossed paths with her.” Because she was a commoner, his pithy tone implied. “Forgive me, but—”
Never, she thought, keeping her expression impassive.
“All the pageant girls blend together in my mind. Are you the one who never knew your father?”
“She’s the one you lost,” Felipe said starkly.
“Oh, goodness,” Astrid interjected with the dulcet tone of someone well practiced in smoothing over a social conflict. “Iknow whoyouare. Patriotism had me rooting for our own contestant, but I thought you absolutely deserving of the win if that’s how it panned out.”
“That’s kind of you to say,” Claudine said sincerely, aware that Francois’s remark had been loud enough to quiet the voices around them. She couldn’t ignore it and didn’t want to. “I know as much about my father as I need to,” Claudine told him clearly. “Sadly, I lost my one mother when I was a child. My other one will arrive tomorrow for the wedding, however. I’m excited to show her around Sentinella. I think she’ll find it very interesting.”
“Has she never seen Alcatraz? Any Hollywood feature is enough to get the idea,” Francois drawled.
“I’ve always found Sentinella very drafty,” the Queen piled on. “Cold and unpleasant.”
Claudine couldn’t possibly contradict the Queen, not in public like this, but the more she had seen how irrevocably the Queen was on Francois’s side, the more she felt it was a betrayal of Felipe, who was equally her son.
“Perhaps my mother would be more comfortable in your apartment at the palace?” Claudine suggested to Felipe, knowing full well the Queen would consider that even more intolerable. “We could stay with her there.”
“Perhaps,” he agreed, sliding his gaze to Claudine’s so she saw the glitter of amusement in the depths of his irises.
His mother sent an icicle-laden stare at them while his father moved the conversation into more stately topics.
When she had an opportunity, Claudine sought the ladies’ lounge. It was designed as a small oasis with a sitting area of comfortable chairs in rose-colored velvet. Full-length mirrors were strategically placed to ensure one could scrutinize for flaws at every angle. A door led into a well-appointed powder room, and an attendant hovered, eager to provide any mending, makeup repairs or medical aid.
Two women left as she arrived, so she had the lounge to herself, allowing her to take slow breaths and try to release some of the evening’s strain from her nerve endings.
“Oh.” Princess Astrid faltered as she entered and saw Claudine at the mirror. “This is a nice surprise. We haven’t had a chance to say a proper hello, have we?”
“We haven’t.” Claudine twisted her lipstick back into its tube and dropped it into her clutch, trying not to feel inferior to her. It was hard, though, after listening to the Queen build up this woman all evening while barely acknowledging Claudine was alive. “Are you enjoying the evening?”
“I’m not sure,” Astrid said wryly. “The rivalry between our respective grooms is more overt than I anticipated. I hope you and I will manage to be friends, though.” She sounded sincere. Nice. Too nice for Francois.
“I hope so, too,” Claudine murmured. “I’ll give you your privacy.”
As she reached the door, however, she knew she couldn’t leave it at that.
