Temporarily His Princess - By Olivia Gates Page 0,49

and their union as their king, accepting their bows with that still-pondering smile. This guy was just too astute.

His assessing eyes spiked her agitation so much it made her keep missing Vincenzo’s finger as she tried to slip his wedding band on. Vincenzo took hold of her hands and branded them with a kiss that rendered them useless before guiding them through the achingly symbolic ritual. The imaginary pins holding up her smile started to pierce into her flesh.

Then it was Leandro’s turn as the second witness to perform the last ritual, coming forward with a crystal goblet. Vincenzo clasped her to his side as he leaned down, plastering his cheek against hers as Leandro held the goblet to their lips for them to simultaneously sip the bloodred liquid that tasted and smelled of an elusive amalgam of spices, fruits and flowers. He recited the words that would “bind their blood” so that they’d never be complete without the other.

Then Vincenzo turned her to face the crowd, who were now on their feet in a standing ovation, holding up their similarly filled glasses and toasting the couple in unison.

This was really happening. She was standing with the man she’d thought she’d lost forever, before his family, friends and followers, before the world, as his bride and princess.

Acting as his bride and princess. Never forget that, and you might yet survive this.

Just when she thought the worst was over, Vincenzo made everything infinitely worse.

His magnificent voice rose, carrying on the deepening night’s breeze. “My people, my family and friends, everyone blessed to call Castaldini home. I give you your new princess. The glory of my life. Gloria D’Agostino.”

If he hadn’t had her firmly tucked into his side, she would have folded to the ground.

The canopy of moonlit sky at his back blurred as he looked down at her with an intensity that flayed her already inflamed senses. He brought her back into her body, crushing it to his, and swooped down to claim her lips, reclaiming her wasteland of a soul, feeling like bliss, tasting like life.

The crowd roared its approval accompanied with a storm of clinking glasses as the orchestra played a joyful tune this time, with the majority of the crowd joining in, a song celebrating the newlyweds’ future happiness.

As the festivities escalated into the night, she lost herself in the creativity of Alonzo’s efforts and the enthusiasm of everyone present. The fantasy of it all deepened until she felt she’d never resurface, until her ordinary, solitary life blipped out from her memory.

Everything became replaced by the wonder of Vincenzo’s nearness, by that of his world, and all the wonderful people who populated his life.

And her resolve was resurrected.

Nothing mattered but having this time with Vincenzo. And she would drain every single second of it dry.

Nine

“The ordeal is finally over.”

Tremors drenched Glory at Vincenzo’s deep purr.

It came from the darkness that enveloped the doorway of her hideaway.

At midnight, as per tradition, Vincenzo’s friends had held him back while she’d been “spirited” away by hers. It was supposed to whet the groom’s appetites even further, searching for his bride in the castle, until he caught her and carried her back to their marital quarters.

The ladies had deserted her somewhere she’d never been in the castle what felt like an hour ago.

She’d felt like someone in a movie who’d been suddenly left behind somewhere mysterious and otherworldly, filled with whispers of temptation beckoning to an unknown fate.

She’d felt his approach long before she’d heard his voice. She now felt his eyes on her as she stood in the dancing light of a flame-lit brass lantern. Her heart no longer had distinct beats, buzzing like a hummingbird’s wings, failing to pump blood to her vitals. The world started to blotch crimson….

His voice brought her jackknifing back to focus. “While being forced to share you with every single person I’ve known in my life, I’ve been pretending sanity and civilization for the crowd and the cameras. Now the wait is over.”

He appeared as if separating from the darkness, a piece of its endlessness taking the form of the epitome of manhood. The need radiating from him violently strummed her, the reverberations deepening her paralysis.

She could only hurl herself at him, climb him, tear him out of his clothes and devour him in her mind.

Then he was there, against her, pressing her into the wall. Her cry echoed in the almost empty chamber as he ground himself against her. Moans and groans filled her