Royally Claimed - By Marie Donovan Page 0,69
that she hadn’t realized still bound her.
She forgave Frank for not chasing to Boston after her, she forgave herself for not chasing back to New York after him, and she forgave whatever unfathomable twist of fate that had taken their baby from them and wrenched them apart.
She knew now that she had come here not just to show Frank how hot she looked in her new suit, but also to start again with him. If he still wanted her. She’d certainly been difficult, turning his well-ordered life upside-down and sideways.
The bride and groom were exchanging rings and saying their vows, and her heart twinged. Frank might not want to try again with her—if they were on a sports team like the groom, their record would be 0-2. But maybe they could do a last-minute save.
Stefania kissed her new husband and a pleased murmur ran through the crowd. The happy couple turned down the aisle amidst the traditional organ music for the bridal recessional, grinning so hard their faces must have ached.
Julia turned her attention back to Frank. He stood and adjusted his sword, slapping Giorgio and Jack on the back. Giorgio whispered something in Frank’s ear and he froze, the happy expression dropping off his face like a rock. He slowly turned and his gaze met hers across the pews. She hoped her eyes weren’t red and watery anymore.
She couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but she knew her own expression was equally stunned. Giorgio must have kept track of who she was and what she looked like.
Jean-Claude and his wife gave Frank a happy wave. He returned it absentmindedly, and understanding dawned on their cheerful faces. “Ah, you are a surprise for François, non?” Jean-Claude asked. “A beautiful surprise for him.”
“Um, thank you.”
“Not at all.” They shook hands with her. “We see you at the reception, mademoiselle.”
Once the kind French couple filed down the aisle, Julia went the opposite direction, knowing that Frank would follow her and not wanting a big crowd watching them. A small chapel stood off to the side with a beautiful stained glass window of a golden dove in white beams of light.
Julia stared up at the window, wishing she could be so peaceful. Under better circumstances, she would love to sit here and try to relax.
She closed her eyes for a second, but knew exactly when he approached her. “Julia.”
She turned. “Frank. Nice to see you.” He was even more handsome close up, but his dark eyes were wary.
“I didn’t expect to see you here, Julia.”
“You didn’t? I thought you asked the bride to invite me.” How utterly embarrassing. And she’d even been put in a pew with his good friends. “But who did invite me?”
“Oh, Stefania did invite you—but it was probably that scoundrel Benedito who asked her. I made him quite miserable the week after you left.”
“And this was your payback.” She blinked hard, trying to estimate how quickly she could leave this pretty little country and run back to Boston. But she mentally stopped herself. Hadn’t she done that once already?
“I made him miserable because I was missing you. He probably thought he was doing me a favor.”
“Oh.”
He moved closer, his sword and medals jingling. “How are your nightmares, Julia? I hate to think of you suffering. Sleep should be free of cares.”
“They’re fading gradually,” she admitted. More and more often she dreamed of him instead, but that was a different kind of suffering.
“Good. I still feel terribly guilty for not protecting you from that sort of situation.”
She exhaled impatiently. She had shopped till she dropped in London and had come across Europe for the same disagreement? “We already talked about this, Frank. I was a teenager and you were twenty. Neither one of us had a college degree and I’m sure your family on their private island and grand estates would have been thrilled to marry you off to the daughter of an American Air Force noncommissioned officer who didn’t even own a home since we moved every few years.”
“We Duartes are not in the habit of moving,” he replied. “We haven’t moved in eight hundred years.”
“Will you move now?” she asked. “If I meet you in the middle.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t want to mess this up any longer. I can’t stand not being with you. We survived the loneliness and pain and miraculously found each other again. What more can you ask after all these years?”
“Decades more.” He pulled her to him and kissed her fiercely. He lifted