Page 21 of His Royal Bride Replacement
‘Rosy…’ Alessio stalked into the kitchen, his lean, strong features taut with annoyance. ‘I said leave them,’ he reminded her.
‘Oh, did you think I didn’t hear you the first time?’
Rosy studied him. He was impossibly good-looking and sometimes, like right at that very minute, it infuriated her because her physical awareness of him put her very much on edge. ‘I heard you fine but I’m not one of your little minions, eager to do as I’m told and please. What I’m telling you—in case you haven’t got the message yet—isnotto tell me what to do. I’m neither a member of your staff nor a child. Unless I’m doing something wrong or dangerous or offensive in some way that I don’t understand, don’t shoot orders at me, because I won’t listen!’
Averting her eyes from his taken-aback appraisal, Rosy spread her attention to the kitchen clean-up that was still required and decided that she’d had enough for one day. She would take care of it all in the morning when she was fresh and in a better temper. Slinging down the dishrag she was still holding in one hand, she neatly sidestepped Alessio and headed for the hall.
‘Goodnight. I’m off to bed.’
* * *
Meanwhile, Alessio began to load a dishwasher for the first time in his life. Rosy had made him uncomfortable by showing him the truth of his behaviour. His parents had pretty much ignored him all his life and he had craved a better relationship with them. Hehadpromised himself that when he was married, he would do everything differently. There was just one small problem, he acknowledged: he didn’t knowhowto have a normal relationship because he had absolutely no experience in that line. Fleeting affairs didn’t count, Graziana patently did not count and the one seemingly good relationship he had had with a woman while he was a student had crashed and burned before he’d even told her that he loved her. Possibly that explained why he was handing out mixed messages on his intentions…
CHAPTER SEVEN
Well, she hadtold Alessio, Rosy reminded herself drowsily as she collapsed into a bed that felt deflatingly empty all of a sudden. It was not as though she actually wanted him in the bed with her—oh, dear, no—but it was the way he had withdrawn that intimacy with that bred-in-the-bone pride of his that had outraged her. He had had no right. Either he was her husband, or he was not. She wasn’t the only one who wouldn’t tolerate half-measures or his habit of moving forward two steps and then stepping back again, leavingheralone and uncertain in unknown territory feeling like an idiot, a fool, who should never have allowed such liberties.
The door creaked open, pausing her on the brink of sleep, and she froze, light from the landing highlighting Alessio, clad only in a pair of boxers. Her eyes widened at the large expanse of lean bronzed muscularity on view.
‘I am one hundred per cent committed to this marriage,’ Alessio gritted.
‘Er…right.’ Rosy fumbled for something to say because he had taken her by surprise. ‘It just seemed rather insulting the way you took yourself off and then oddly coincidental when Graziana phoned and told you that her marriage hadn’t been consummated either…not, er, that I’m up forthattonight,’ she muttered awkwardly. ‘I’m far too tired and cross with you.’
Alessio dealt her a lazily amused grin and vaulted onto the other side of the bed. ‘It’s actually not the norm for us to share the same bedroom, interconnecting rooms, yes, but not the same bed, and I assumed that you wouldprefer—’
‘Yes, well, stop assuming stuff, just ask,’ Rosy said with a sniff, still reeling from that heartbreaking smile of his.
‘And I didn’t want to risk getting you pregnant before you’d decided that you were staying.’
Rosy stiffened. ‘You couldn’t get me pregnant. I’ve been on the pill since university.’
‘But accidents still happen and, if I can avoid it, I will not have any child of mine growing up with divided parents.’
Rosy sighed. ‘You’re just a little paranoid because of your background. Nobody knows if they’ve got for ever together. One of us could drop dead next year.’
‘Madonna mia…I seriously hope not,’ Alessio incised with amusement.
‘Or, eventually, one of us could decide they can’t stand the other…who knows? Nobody knows. That’s the point. Thereareno guarantees,’ she countered.
‘Go to sleep,piccola volpe. It will all look much less intimidating in the morning.’
* * *
Rosy wakened at the crack of dawn and for the first time felt rested and more like herself. The royal wedding and all the changes and the surprises dealt by Alessio had taken more out of her than she had realised. She crept out of bed, careful not to wake Alessio. Black hair dark against the pale pillow, ridiculously long lashes lying against his cheekbones, he looked younger, less guarded, relaxed. But still utterly gorgeous with that classic bone structure and perfect physique.
Freshening up, she put on shorts and a top and left the room, only to find lights still burning everywhere, and she frowned as she went round switching them off. Alessio wasn’t used to being without staff and she supposed that that was why the ordinary tasks of life could irritate him when he saw her doing them. But Rosy, cheerfully clearing the dining room and returning the kitchen to its former spick and span status, was in her element. She liked jobs completed, preferred order in her surroundings and could only relax once that order was restored.
She brought in the basket of pastries and other perishables from the porch and packed it away before deciding to enjoy an early morning walk in the sunshine. The sky was a blissful blue without a cloud in sight but the tree canopy kept the temperature cool. She reached the stream, which was still quite flooded from the storm, and that was when she heard a cry. An animal cry? She wasn’t sure and she frowned, scanning the banks, and then the island of flotsam that the storm had sent down the mountain. A tangle of broken branches nudged the bank and there was something made of cloth in it, something…moving.
It was the work of a moment to kick off her shoes on the bank and she was about to step into the water when a voice hailed her from the opposite bank.
‘Don’t go into the water! It’s slippery and dangerous, Your Highness.’
Startled, she glanced up and saw one of the palace protection team and then the little cry came again. ‘There’s something in that sack… I think,’ she said, flinching only for a second as the cold water froze her bare toes.
There was a splash and she glanced up in dismay as the security guard jumped down into the water fully clothed to stop her in her headlong flight to take care of the matter. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry…now you’ve got your shoes wet,’ she groaned, guilty that she had been stubborn and had not foreseen that he would see it as his job to go into the water for her.
He waded across the stream towards her, holding the dripping sack. As he shook it open on the bank, a snuffly little black and white spotty snout emerged.
