The Formidable King Page 22

  ‘India!’ Gabe growled out her name as he moved inside her faster and harder a few more times. He filled her with one last savage thrust and then groaned and shuddered above her.

  The image of him in the grasp of such physical pleasure filled her with a sweet sense of contentment. Intermittently, her internal muscles convulsed—little aftershocks continuing to tug pleasurably right up through her womb.

  ‘Beautiful,’ she told him quietly, as her body floated, completely sated, on a cloud of wonder and bliss.

  Gabriel nuzzled her neck. His voice was full of satisfied sensual completion as he told her, ‘You’re beautiful.’

  She angled her head to look at him, and as he raised his face to her, she was incredibly humbled to see the moisture of profound emotion in his eyes.

  Still joined with her, Gabriel rolled back on the bed. He carried her with him so she lay over him—her body held securely within the strength of his arms.

  ‘I love you, India,’ he told her.

  ‘Don’t ever stop telling me,’ she replied. She held the words close to her heart. They weren’t words she’d grown up with, and she’d never grow tired of hearing them—especially from Gabriel.

  Chapter 18

  Two weeks later, Gabriel rejoiced as every church bell in Santaliana rang. The citizens, and many foreign tourists, lined the main street, anxious to catch a glimpse of the royal wedding party and to cheer India and him on their way. The procession made its way back to the palace from the cathedral, where India and Gabriel had just renewed their vows in the formal religious festival.

  A cheer went up so loudly as the open carriage approached that it masked the clip-clop of the horses’ hooves on the cobblestoned street.

  Gabriel looked sideways at his beautiful bride and his chest expanded with his love and his pride. He was convinced no bride had ever looked more beautiful, even though he didn’t really approve of the number of buttons he’d have to undo later when he helped her out of her fairytale wedding gown.

  He was hardly able to believe that this incredibly generous, brave woman had committed to spending the rest of her life with him. Even though they were a mere formality this time, the vows they’d uttered today meant so much more because each word was heartfelt and motivated by love.

  India was every inch the radiant bride as she held on to Gabe’s hand and waved to the crowds with her other.

  ‘Queen India!’ people cried out as they waved flags and threw confetti and flowers. The people had warmed to India from the first moment they’d seen her on television. The castle had been inundated with letters of support and there’d been a great deal of admiration for the way she’d spoken about her ordeal with such honesty and bravery.

  ‘I can’t believe I’m a queen,’ she laughed to Gabe as she touched her hand to the jewelled crown that weighed down on her veil.

  ‘And there’s no escaping the use of this title, Your Majesty.’ He grinned, loving the dimples in her cheeks. ‘Especially now you have your very own foundation.’

  ‘My father will be rolling in his grave every time someone calls me Your Majesty,’ she said with another chuckle.

  Gabriel shifted his attention back to the crowd and waved again. ‘I can’t understand what he had against titles.’

  ‘Gran told me he was teased at school for being the duke’s son—that the kids treated him like he thought he was somebody special even though he didn’t see himself that way,’ she told him as she continued to wave.

  ‘I can see how that would’ve turned him off.’

  ‘He was determined that if he ever used a title, it’d be one he’d earned himself. He instilled that into me from birth. It was very difficult to accept Gran introducing me as Lady Dee everywhere we went.’

  The carriage slowed as they went around a corner, and the bodyguards who rode horses to the rear and front of the carriage closed in a little.

  ‘Sounds like your gran will be up in heaven, preening that her granddaughter is a member of a royal family.’

  ‘I’m sure she’ll be having a little tipple of sherry in celebration.’

  ‘And Eden will be looking on thrilled.’ He’d never stop missing his sister, but at least now he could think of her and talk about her without feeling a constant stab of guilt. India squeezed his hand. ‘I’d like to think she’d approve.’

  ‘You know she would.’ His sister would’ve also been thrilled at all her friend had done for her foundation. Now India would devote her time to her new cause—and she already had plans in place to convert part of the Dunmorton townhouse in London to office space for her charity, and to use a wing of her country estate as a retreat and counselling centre for victims of rape.

  We love you King Gabriel and Queen India someone had written on a banner.

  ‘Look at that!’ India tugged at his arm and nodded toward the sign. ‘The people of Santaliana are wonderful. I can’t believe how much they’ve welcomed me.’ She dropped his arm to catch another posy of flowers that was thrown toward the carriage. ‘Mackenzie did a fabulous job handling the whole media circus of the court hearing.’

  Gabe nodded, and was once again thankful that justice had been done. ‘Mac’s good at what she does,’ he said as he cast another quick, appreciative glance at his wife, ‘there’s no question of that. But I think it was you who won the hearts of the people, India. You did that all by yourself by being the beautiful, warm, and caring person you are.’ He allowed his hand to rest on her thigh. ‘Everyone has been captivated by you.’

  India relaxed a little more against his side. ‘I think they were more enchanted by my flower girl. Eliza’s an incredibly vibrant little girl, isn’t she?’

  Gabriel nodded and waved again to the crowds before he brushed some confetti from the leg of his trousers. ‘I wonder how Eliza will cope with having a little brother or sister around?’ The news that Mackenzie was expecting Devereaux’s child had been more cause for celebration at the castle.

  ‘Oh, I’m sure she’ll take it in her stride,’ India said. ‘At least she’s got seven months to get used to the idea.’

  And Gabriel hoped that before too long, he and India would be able to announce that there was another de la Croix baby on the way. They’d already decided they wouldn’t wait to start a family.

  India had made him realise that he’d taken responsibility for the death of his parents when he was seven. He’d maintained a child’s perspective all these years and had never allowed himself to look at the situation as an adult. She’d pointed to the way he’d protected her, and convinced him he’d be just as capable of protecting any children they may be blessed with. In the short time she’d been in his life, she’d become his sounding board and his strength and made him see things differently.

  India covered his hand with hers and took her attention away from their subjects for a moment. As if she’d read his thoughts, she smiled at him and said, ‘Hopefully we’ll add to the baby boom.’

  He couldn’t help himself. Much to the delight of the crowd, Gabe removed his heavy crown before he bent his head and captured India’s lips with his. The thorough kiss he delivered communicated his deep, abiding love and the passion he had for his queen—to her and to everyone else who watched on.

  When the kiss finally ended, and new sections of the crowd were still clapping and cheering as the horse-drawn carriage rolled past, India looked happily dazed. ‘Were you just looking for an excuse to get rid of your crown, or are you trying to give the photographers a good photo so you can steal the news headlines from your friend?’

  Gabriel laughed. She didn’t need to say anymore because he knew precisely what she was referring to. Whilst Devereaux had been in the wedding party as the best man, Gabe’s friends, Khalid and Marco, had both been going to stand beside him as groomsmen. Last night, however, Khalid had needed to tear home to his wife in Rhajia, as Sabihah had gone into labour several weeks earlier than expected with the delivery of their second child.

  ‘I’m glad the
doctors were able to delay the birth until Khalid got there,’ India said as she waved again to the citizens.

  ‘It was a case of having to. When Khalid phoned me just before we left for the church, he told me they gave her a maximum dose of a drug that stopped the contractions because they wanted to give her another drug, which would help mature the baby’s lungs.’

  ‘Thankfully mother and baby are doing well. But was something wrong with Marco? He seemed a little preoccupied.’

  Not for the first time, Gabriel marvelled at India’s perception and her awareness of those around her when today’s ceremony placed her firmly in the limelight. ‘Marco has rather a lot on his mind at the moment.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘It’s a long story, sweetheart, and it isn’t mine to tell. I’ll let Marco tell you about it one day if he wants to.’

  ‘Sounds mysterious.’

  ‘More complicated than mysterious.’

  ‘Let me guess, there’s a woman involved.’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘Oh, Gabe, that would be so fabulous. It would be so good to know that Marco could find love again after all these years.’

  ‘Enough. I’m neither confirming nor denying your suspicions. You’ll just have to wait and see.’ Gabriel was relieved to see that they’d almost reached the gates of the palace. Although he smiled much more often these days thanks to India, his face would probably still ache for a good half an hour after this latest royal procession.

  ‘Gosh, I hope I can remember all the names of the dignitaries that are going to be at the wedding reception,’ India whispered in an anxious aside.

  ‘I’m not thinking about the reception. I’d rather think about our wedding night,’ he murmured. The carriage finally passed through the gates of the palace and into the courtyard. ‘I think there might just be time to slip off quietly before the reception.’

  ‘Good idea.’ Her expression had changed. Right now, she looked at him a little sternly. Her next words confirmed he was right to feel uneasy. ‘Because there’s something I need to talk to you about before we greet our guests.’

  Uh-oh. He arched one eyebrow up in enquiry.

  ‘Devereaux told me.’

  Gabe’s eyes narrowed. ‘What did he tell you?’

  ‘He said you’d spoken to him about your intention to abdicate if your marriage to me caused any discontent among the people of your kingdom.’

  ‘Our kingdom,’ he corrected, ‘and he shouldn’t have told you.’

  ‘No, he shouldn’t have.’ She raised her hand and jabbed her pointed finger into his chest. ‘You should have.’

  Gabriel laughed at her school ma’am tone. ‘We’ve only just been properly married and you’ve already started being bossy!’

  ‘Oh Gabriel,’ she sighed in an admonishment but the effect was weakened by the upward curve of her lips. ‘When Dev told me that, my heart just melted all over again. I’ve never felt so incredibly loved. To know that you were prepared to put our marriage over your kingdom—that you placed our relationship as a greater priority than the role you’ve lived your life for—makes me feel indescribably precious.’

  ‘You are indescribably precious and I’m going to spend the rest of our days making sure you know just how much I treasure you.’

  Her hands squeezed his. ‘I’m more staggered than I can express, but I wouldn’t have let you abdicate.’

  ‘That wasn’t your choice to make.’ He raised one of her hands and kissed each finger. ‘Take note, India. Now you’re in my life, our relationship is my first priority and you are the person closest to my heart.’

  India’s arms were around his neck in an instant, and she kissed him with no regard for the palace staff who’d filed out from the castle to form a welcoming line. When she finally pulled her head back and ended the kiss, she whispered, ‘Do you think we might have time to work on our baby boom before the reception, or would it be too rude to keep our guests waiting?’

  Gabe was more than ready to accede to her wishes. ‘As I just told you, our relationship is my first priority.’

  And their guests didn’t mind being kept waiting one little bit.

  The Irresistible Royal

  A sneak peek of the next book in the captivating Royals series by bestselling author

  Alyssa J. Montgomery

  Chapter One

  I should never have agreed to come.

  As Chloe looked around the grand ballroom at her new step-father’s country estate, her spine was rigid. She’d come to England to try to forge a bond with the mother she hadn’t seen in twenty years, not to spend the evening engaging in meaningless cocktail conversation with a glamorous group of people she had nothing in common with and would most likely never see again. Clearly, her mother— Lidia—had different priorities, and getting to know Chloe was not high on the list. So why the hell had she reached out and invited Chloe here in the first place?

  I should have refused the invitation.

  It would’ve been the sensible thing to do, yet her father had urged her to make this trip. Even though he’d warned her she was probably destined for disappointment, he’d felt that if Chloe turned down the opportunity to meet her mother again, she might regret it later.

  Well, everything Chloe had seen so far confirmed all she’d heard from others, or read on the internet, about her mother’s lifestyle. Lidia’s ambition had always been to live an idle, wealthy existence, schmoozing with the rich and famous. The pursuit of all this superficial glamour was the very reason she’d walked away from her husband and six-year-old daughter.

  Lidia Stewart stood a short distance away, chatting animatedly. Somewhat abruptly, she air-kissed the cheeks of the couple she spoke to and gave a vague wave of her hands as she rejoined her daughter. ‘Try to loosen up, darling,’ she complained. ‘You could at least try to look like you’re enjoying yourself.’

  ‘I’m—’

  ‘Look over there!’ Lidia’s fingers firmed around the soft flesh of Chloe’s upper arm and forced her to turn. ‘It’s Prince Marco.’ Her mother pointed to the other side of the room. ‘You must’ve heard of him?’

  Chloe’s breath caught as she looked at the incredibly handsome man with the jet-black hair and strong chiselled profile. ‘I’ve read of him in financial magazines.’ But the pictures which had accompanied the articles hadn’t done the man justice.

  ‘Oh God, Chloe. Financial magazines!’ Lidia groaned and rolled her eyes. ‘I don’t know where to begin with you. Any normal woman would be reading the social pages.’ She flicked a hand dismissively. ‘Prince Marco is Ralvinian royalty and by far the most eligible bachelor here.’

  ‘I realise—’

  ‘Mm. Just look at his divine body,’ Lidia purred. ‘I’ve heard he knows exactly how to use it to bring a woman pleasure, too. What I wouldn’t do for a night in the sack with him!’

  Appalled at the crass admission, Chloe’s muscles knotted at the nape of her neck. She couldn’t recall exactly how many men her mother had married, but long ago she’d dubbed Lidia as a serial ‘husbandiser’. Lidia changed her surname as frequently as she changed her outrageously expensive stiletto shoes.

  Chloe glanced around the ballroom in search of her latest step-father. Barry Stewart was across the other side of the room speaking earnestly with a group of men. Chloe couldn’t say she’d warmed to Barry when she’d met him just a few hours ago. He’d struck her as a man very pumped up with his own self-importance. Yet, she couldn’t help feeling a little sorry for him. Did he have any idea just how few morals Lidia possessed?

  ‘How long have you been married to Barry?’ Chloe asked pointedly.

  ‘It’ll be our two-month anniversary tomorrow.’

  Every month was probably a cause for celebration because very few of Lidia’s marriages made it to one year.

  With a heavy heart, Chloe realised it’d been a complete waste of time coming to the UK to get to know her mother. Although she’d suffered dreadfully from motion sick
ness on the flight over and it wasn’t a trip she looked forward to repeating, she knew it was time to cut her mother from her life and high-tail it back to her father in California. Less than twelve hours after having made the trans-Atlantic flight, she’d already spent eleven and a half hours too long in her mother’s company.

  ‘Whatever.’ Her mother’s tone indicated she was bored with the detail. ‘It’s high time you found yourself your first husband. Although both his older brothers already have children and it’s highly unlikely Marco will ever be king of Ralvinia, he couldn’t be a more suitable contender as Husband Number One. He mixes in the highest social circles and counts the Crown Prince of Turastan and King of Santaliana among his closest friends.’

  ‘I’m not looking for a husband.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. Forget that...What was it you said? Master of Business degree or something? Why waste your youth studying and working with the down-and-out in a dead-end job, when you could be enjoying life?’

  ‘I am enjoying—’

  ‘Lord Summers has just arrived!’ Lidia cut across the protest and indicated toward the entry doors to the ballroom. ‘I must go to greet him. Go and talk to Marco, darling. Don’t stand there and dissolve into the wallpaper. If you play your cards right you need never have to work for a living.’

  Lidia glided elegantly across the room to meet the old man who looked like he needed to sit before he fell down.

  Chloe released a little breath of discomfort and wished she could dissolve into the wallpaper. Unfortunately, there was little chance of that happening considering her very revealing cocktail dress was a vivid scarlet red.

  When she’d stepped off the aeroplane, she’d had no idea she’d be whisked to Barry Stewart’s upmarket country mansion for this swanky weekend party. Her initial protests that she had nothing suitable to wear had only resulted in her mother announcing she’d already considered Chloe’s wardrobe. Despite Chloe’s protests, she’d been squeezed into the red cocktail dress. Ever since, she’d pulled down self-consciously at the short hem and tried to breathe against the tightness of the bodice. Her legs ached from wearing the impossibly high heels that matched the dress, and all she wanted to do was get into her comfortable pyjamas, fluffy bed socks and go to sleep.