Her Royal Masquerade (Her Royal Romance) (6 page)

Stop thinking about him!
Mia grabbed a rag to wipe the spilled coffee from the table.

At least she would be going back to work today. Her young students would keep her busy. Their energy and love of learning would help distract her. She desperately needed something to help keep her mind off deep brown eyes, thick wavy hair and talented fingers lowering the zipper of her gown.

Mia blinked away the tears before they could fall. There would be no tears. She burned off her frustration on the table that had long since been wiped clean. She’d known what she was getting into when she’d agreed to the charade. She’d never been one to waste time worrying about what might have been. It was her own fault that she let the charming prince seduce her into his bed.

She could understand now the worry Vittorio’s sister, Angelina, had voiced when she said that she feared falling for a man with whom she’d have no future if she dated local young men. Mia liked the young princess, and she wouldn’t wish this hollow ache on her worst enemy, much less on the sweet Angelina.

It was time to call on that cold-blooded, practical nature her people were famous for. It was only lust she felt for Vittorio. He’d given her the best sex of her life, there was no doubt about that. It was her body that craved him. There had been sexual chemistry between them, yes, but that was all it was.

Her mind knew that she couldn’t feel anything emotional for Vittorio. It was not possible in those few hours. If he’d made her feel special, it was only because he thought she was Birgitte. He didn’t even know who Mia Holmberg was. He didn’t care. He would be on to his next princess and forget all about their night together.

But as Mia pulled on her heavy sweater and stepped into her warm boots, she knew she’d forever hear, “
Cara mia
,” being whispered in her ear.

“Miss Holmberg,” young Eric said as Mia led her students down the snowy lane from the schoolhouse, “is it true your grandfather is the man who makes all the bread and cookies and cakes?”

“He is a baker,” Mia said with a smile. “That’s the word for someone who makes bread and cookies and cakes.” Eric nodded and stuck out his tongue to catch the falling snowflakes.

“And he really said we can come for cookies?” Jennie asked. Her blue eyes were wide above chubby cheeks, red from the cold.

“Yes. He invited us to stop in today for cookies and hot cocoa.” Once each year, Mia took her class to visit her grandfather’s bakery. She was so grateful he’d agreed to do it this week. She needed to keep busy in order to keep her mind occupied.

This was not a fairy tale world she lived in, she reminded herself. This was real life. She was not an elegant woman, comfortable with diamonds and servants. She was a sensible woman with no patience for royal spectacles.

It didn’t matter anyway. The certainty twisted painfully in her chest. Even if she and Vittorio
had
felt something for each other, even if they yearned for each other with an ache that wouldn’t go away, they had no future together. She should have known better than to go to bed with him, to tease herself with what she could never have. To tempt herself with what she could never keep.

Did she want to feel miserable? The simple fact was that she had no royal blood. That would never change.

Mia took the lead down the narrow path, tamping down the newly fallen snow with her boots as she did. Her small charges followed, all bundled up. Annika, Mia’s teaching assistant, brought up the rear.

Mia loved their little village. It was the oldest in Stagatland, sitting at the foot of the hill where the royal palace was perched. So much of their country was modern and built up now. Cities were growing, along with the industries that helped build the economy of their small country. But Mia could not imagine giving up her simple life of quiet comfort to live in a noisy, crowded city. Or a huge stone castle.

Not that it was an option.

Still, there weren’t many eligible local men to choose from if she wanted to find someone to help her take her mind off Vittorio. Right now, the thought of another man touching her the way he had left her cold, but she knew she had to get over it. Get over him. If she wasn’t careful she could end up alone in her little cottage, living on memories of a single happy night for the rest of her life.

That would be pathetic.

She herded her class to the town square, where a large expanse of newly fallen snow was an obvious temptation to her young students. She’d taught them well though. They didn’t dash out to disturb the smooth white snow. They stood in a line at the edge of the square and looked up at her with eager expressions.

“Please, Miss Holmberg?” Eric cried.

Mia laughed. “Go,” she said. “See how big a snowman you can make and then we’ll go to the bakery. Work together.”

The children shouted and made a mad dash for the center of the square. A few of them dropped onto their backs to make snow angels before beginning to pack the snow into balls to start the snowman.

Annika stood beside her as they watched the children play. “Are you okay? You’ve seemed a little distracted the last couple days.”

“I’m fine.” But as soon as the words were out of her mouth, Mia knew it was a lie. She needed help and this was the perfect opportunity. “Anni, are you still dating Beck?”

“Yes.” Her gray eyes sparkled beneath her bright blue knit hat and her cheeks grew a little pinker. “I like him a lot.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I think I might even love him a little bit.”

“But how do you work it out when you live here and he lives in the city?”

Annika laughed. “It’s only an hour drive. We see each other during the week when we can and then we spend the weekends together.”

The children squealed as they worked together to roll a ball of snow for the base of the snowman. Mia would love to have children of her own someday. It was time to stop yearning for a man she could never have and find one with whom she could build a life. “Does Beck have any friends?”

Vittorio had never expected to make a love match. He’d resigned himself long ago that his marriage would be a cold business agreement as most Mezzanoan royal marriages had been. His mother and father had gotten along, but he’d never seen any real affection between them. It was the way it had always been.

He had no illusions of romantic love like his sister did, but he knew a union with Birgitte would not be a cold one. He’d never realized how much he’d longed for a wife with whom he could indulge his hot-blooded desires. With whom he could enjoy a simple conversation. How wonderful it would be to look forward to spending time with his wife, not just in bed, but any time.

He wanted to have Birgitte back in his bed and at his side. Now that he’d found her, he was anxious to make their union official. He refused to consider the possibility that she wouldn’t be just as excited about the prospect.

This quick trip to the frozen country of Stagatland had been a waste of time, however.

Vittorio had hoped to confront the princess here this morning. He’d planned to demand answers from her as to why she’d left him without saying a word. He couldn’t believe she’d truly wanted to escape him, not after the passionate night they’d spent together. If she’d meant to add him to her long list of short term lovers, she was mistaken. He was going to be the last one on that list.

Vittorio strode from the palace with Rico, his friend and bodyguard, on his heels. Birgitte had not returned home to Stagatland after she left his bed. The king and queen said she was visiting with friends and they would summon her home as quickly as they could. But they could not, or would not, give him a way to contact her. So now he would have to go home and wait. He’d never been a patient man.

Angelina had told him in quite an accusing manner that the members of the royal family in Stagatland were not forced to marry another royal. She acted as if it were Vittorio’s fault, or perhaps their father’s, that the rules for Mezzano royalty were different from those in Stagatland. His little sister hadn’t wanted to hear that it had been decreed for centuries past. She said she wanted to be able to marry the son of a baker if she pleased.

He hadn’t understood his sister’s preoccupation with bakers until she told him the story she’d heard from Birgitte. And he hadn’t admitted to Angelina that he understood her fear that she wouldn’t find a love match among the available royals in the world. She was still young enough to believe in true love.

Vittorio was old enough to know better.

“I want to visit the bakery.” He and Rico stepped up to the limousine King Karl had put at their disposal. Vittorio could see a quaint village a short distance away, at the bottom of the hill on which the castle was perched. Smoke curled from many of the chimneys jutting from the rooftops.

“Bakery?” Rico repeated. “Are you hungry?”

Hungry for a woman with bright blue eyes and long white-blonde hair and a smile that took in everyone around her. “I have heard of a bakery that is run by the father of the queen.”

Vittorio turned to Einar, their Stagatlandian guide and driver. “Is it nearby?”

“Yes, Your Highness. Very close. We can stop on the way to the airport if you like.”

He shivered. He should have dressed warmer. He thought the leather gloves and wool overcoat would be enough to protect him from the cold, but he’d underestimated the climate. “I would.” He climbed into the car.

Vittorio didn’t know why he had the sudden desire to visit the bakery. Perhaps because it was run by Birgitte’s grandfather. Perhaps because Angelina loved the story and he knew she would be happy if he brought her back some sweets from the bakery she had told him about.

Einar pulled the car to a stop on a narrow street in front of the bakery. A simple sign featuring the picture of a loaf of bread hung from a post above the door. Mouthwatering aromas filled the air. As Vittorio got out of the warm car and into the frigid weather, he heard musical laughter and his body immediately hardened. Birgitte’s sweet laughter was haunting him still.

A group of children rounded the corner about half a block away. He froze when he saw a tall woman with long, white-blonde hair in the midst of the children.

“The princess is here,” he said aloud. Rico came up beside him. “They were lying to me.” The king and queen had seemed pleased to find out about his interest in the princess. They had actually voiced the hope that he might settle down their wayward daughter. Why would they have lied to him?

“What are you saying?” Rico asked, his voice low.

Vittorio nodded toward the group coming their way. “The princess. She’s right there.” His heart raced in anticipation.

Einar shook his head. “No, Your Highness. That’s not Princess Birgitte. That’s her cousin, Mia Holmberg. She’s a teacher. Those are her students.”

Disappointment sank into Vittorio’s bones, surprising him with its intensity. Despite the flare of anger when he thought he’d been lied to, he couldn’t deny the joy that had burst within him at the thought of seeing Birgitte again. Touching her. Tasting her. Claiming her as his own.

“Are you certain?” he asked. They were still too far away to get a good look at her face, but he thought she looked just like Birgitte.

“Absolutely.” Einar looked at Vittorio as if he’s lost his mind. “Your Highness? The bakery is right here.”

“Of course.” Vittorio stepped onto the sidewalk, but he didn’t turn to the door of the bakery. Instead, he waited and watched the small children and the princess’s cousin approach. Perhaps he could get some answers from her. It was possible she knew where the princess was or how to get in touch with her.

Even bundled up in thick wool, walking in heavy boots and wearing a multicolored knitted cap pulled down over her ears, the woman walking toward him reminded him so much of Birgitte it took his breath away. She moved just as gracefully and had the same bright smile as she spoke to the excited children. A few of the students pointed toward Vittorio and the other two men standing on the sidewalk beside him.

She looked up. Met his gaze. Her bright blue eyes grew wide and she stumbled. A tiny woman beside her caught her arm and steadied her. Vittorio took a step forward. The group stopped. They filled the sidewalk in front of the bakery.

“Who’s that?” one of the children asked, pointing at Vittorio.

“It’s not nice to point, Eric.”

The other woman said, “If you are polite, maybe Mr. Hanson will introduce us.”

“This is Prince Vittorio,” Einar said and the children chattered excitedly. “He is the prince of a faraway country called Mezzano. He came to our country to see the king and queen and asked to visit our famous bakery before going back home.”

“I am delighted to meet you,” Vittorio said. He intended to address the group, but he couldn’t drag his eyes away from the beautiful woman whose long hair flowed from beneath the knitted cap. She stood at the back of the group and didn’t meet his gaze.

“We’re going to the bakery too,” the little boy, Eric, said. “Miss Holmberg’s grandfather is the baker. A baker is someone who makes bread and cookies and cakes.” The little boy clapped his snowy mittens together in excitement.

Vittorio wished he was dressed as warmly as the children were. His feet felt as if they would freeze to the sidewalk. He needed to obtain the information he required and get inside out of the cold. “I must speak with Miss Holmberg for a moment.”

Her gaze flew to his. “Oh… but the children…”

“I can take them in and get them started,” the other woman said, her inquisitive gaze bouncing between the two of them.

“Thank you, Annika,” she said, her eyes still on Vittorio. Now that she was closer, he was stunned by the resemblance to Birgitte. No, her face wasn’t made up for a royal ball, but otherwise they looked identical. Could cousins look identical?

“Come, children.” They followed Annika into the bakery. A few of the young ones waved shyly at Vittorio on their way by.

Einar stepped forward. “Your Highness, this is Mia Holmberg. Mia, Prince Vittorio has come to Stagatland looking for Princess Birgitte.”