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It was easier to look at the guests than the tall figure at the end of the aisle. Yet how could shenotlook?
It felt as though a taut, invisible cord stretched between her and the man waiting at the end of the long red carpet.
Despite her best efforts, her gaze lifted. His eyes were on her, even from this distance she felt the snap and sizzle of his stare. His face looked chiselled, proud and imposing. Her insides did that appalling dance of awareness and her mouth tightened.
Then she remembered the millions watching the televised ceremony and forced a smile.
He was so close now she saw the amber-gold glow of his eyes. But she couldn’t read his expression, just that his focus was totally on her. Was that triumph she read? Satisfaction? It couldn’t be eagerness except for what this marriage brought him—the crown.
There was no more time for thinking. Her attendants took the bouquet. The colonel squeezed her hand and placed it in Benedikt’s.
A tumble of feelings rocked her. Emotions she didn’t want to acknowledge. How could one man’s touch be so different to another’s?
The priest spoke her name and she snapped her head around. But all through the ceremony Annalena felt distanced from it, as if separated by a wall of glass. She was aware only of Benedikt’s hand holding hers and the thrum of her heartbeat. And her stilted voice as she spoke her vows.
Until the moment when a pleased voice said, ‘You may now kiss the bride.’
Inevitably her thoughts flew to the kiss that had left her limp with need. Heat flooded her cheeks as she turned to her husband.
Her husband!
She swallowed and tilted her chin, lifting her face.
An expression cut across his sculpted face, so quickly she almost missed it. Annoyance. A fleeting frown of annoyance!
What the hell did he have to be annoyed about?
Then warm lips covered hers. She inhaled sharply, drawing in the stunningly familiar scent-taste of him. His hand covered her cheek as he tilted his head, a gesture that to the onlookers would appear tender, even possessive. His mouth moved on hers and suddenly she felt—
‘That’s enough,’ she whispered through stiff lips.
Benedikt paused, mouth still brushing hers, then slowly lifted his head as a roar of delight rose from the crowd.
He smiled down at her and she knew the world would see a fairy-tale prince besotted with his bride. Only she knew his smile didn’t reach eyes that stayed serious and watchful.
‘One ceremony down,’ he murmured. ‘Only the coronation to go.’
Hours later Annalena stood in the sitting room of the new suite she’d been allocated, adjoining Benedikt’s. Her face ached from smiling and her feet felt hot from so many hours in heels.
She’d discarded her shoes by the door. She’d thought of running herself a bath since she’d sent away the maid who’d been eager to assist. She wasn’t up to dealing with other people, however helpful. But instead of relaxing in warm water, she found herself at the window, still in her heavy, satin wedding dress, watching the fireworks explode over the city as Prinzenberg celebrated.
‘I thought you might like some refreshment. You didn’t eat at the reception.’
Annalena swung around in a swish of long skirts, one hand going to her throat. Across the room, in the doorway to his rooms, stood Benedikt.
He’d discarded his jacket and cufflinks and rolled his sleeves to the elbow, baring strong, tanned forearms. His bow tie hung loose and his formal shirt was undone at the throat.
His air of undiluted sexiness stopped her breath. He had a vitality that proclaimed him far more than an office-bound administrator. Annalena wondered what he did in his spare time.
It took a second to register the tray he carried.
‘I didn’t hear you knock.’ Was her voice too high?
‘No. You were oblivious. You’re a fan of fireworks?’
He moved into the room and put the tray on a low table. She saw canapés and fruit, pastries and a wine bottle nestled in the silver cooler.
A tickle of something that might have been excitement stroked her backbone. That wouldn’t do. She couldn’t allow herself to be wined, dined and charmed. Not if she wanted to be his equal. Benedikt threatened her equilibrium in ways she’d never experienced. She couldn’t trust the yearning he made her feel because she feared that would make her vulnerable. Emotions had made her mother vulnerable and destroyed her.