“What? The Irish getting stuck on things idea?”
“No, Marisol. Damn it, you aren’t going to make this easy on me, are you?”
“And why should I?”
“Because I love you, Marisol. I always have, and I suspect I always will.”
Marisol bit her lip as she studied his gorgeous face. “I love you too, Ryan, but you broke my heart when you left me behind in the courthouse.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. If you give me a chance, I’ll make sure I never do or say anything that will hurt you ever again.”
“That’s quite a big promise, but I’m going back to Dalaysia today.”
“I know,” he said. “That’s why before you go, I want a promise from you.”
“What promise?” said Marisol.
Ryan dropped to one knee and pulled a velvet box from his pocket.
“Marry me, Princess Marisol of Dalayasia?”
“Oh, Ryan, it’s not that easy for me. I have obligations to my country. I can’t, I just can’t.” Words failed her. How could she explain what it would mean if another Duvaingnon brought another commoner from America into the royal family?
“Open the box, Marisol,” said Ryan.
Marisol, her eyes filling with tears, took the box from Ryan’s hands. Then she opened it and gasped. It was her mother’s engagement ring. There was only one place he could have gotten this. Her father. With this ring, her father was telling her he approved, and that, whatever happened, whatever the fallout, he wanted her to be happy.
“Of course, if you don’t like it, I’ll give it back, and we’ll get you another one. Anything you want, Marisol. Because I’m Irish and stubborn, and I’m not leaving this room until you promise to be my wife.”
“Like it? How can I not like it?”
“Then you’ll marry me?”
She flung herself into his arms. It felt so good to have his strong arms around her. Marisol buried her face in his neck.
“Yes, stubborn Irishman Ryan Kelley. I’ll marry you.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Epilogue
“Now tell me again how you were involved in this conspiracy?” asked Marisol. She twisted the paper umbrella in her fruity drink as she waited for Cheryl’s answer.
They were sitting on the upper terrace of the royal palace in Dalaysia, watching the staff putting the finishing touches on the reception and wedding areas. The newly renovated garden stretched out for a couple acres to the cliff that overhung the Gulf of Lion in the Mediterranean Sea. The wedding area sat close to the cliff and was filled with chairs for the invited guests. They’d tried to keep it small, but this was a royal wedding. Royals, dignitaries, government, and business leaders from all over the world had already arrived, jamming the brand new hotels built for the occasion.
The merger between KelTech and Dalaysia proved extremely advantageous, just as Ryan had said it would, but even more so because it kicked up the interests of different businesses, including several in the travel industry. At long last, money was pouring into Dalaysia with the overdue development of the country as a vacation destination.
This spring day was gloriously bright, and Marisol beamed with happiness. Tomorrow was her wedding day, and she would marry the most handsome man in the world. He was perfect.
The media thought so too, and Ryan complained he couldn’t go anywhere without a reporter following him. For months, Marisol and Ryan’s story filled the tabloids. There were even egregiously erroneous ones that announced their engagement was off or that Marisol had to marry because she was pregnant, which made her laugh.
Since that one time, and after both made confessions to their priests and did their penance, they’d vowed to wait for their wedding day to make love again. It was a difficult vow to keep, especially when they wanted each other like crazy. They came very close to breaking that vow, but one of them would sensibly hold back the other.
Marisol could barely contain her excitement over her imminent wedding night, and it made it difficult to concentrate, especially when people were talking to her like Cheryl was now.
“My son can be stubborn and unreasonable, and there was no talking to him. I tried to tell him it was obvious you loved him, but he wouldn’t listen. Even when that story came out about Vattakov’s arrest, he still wouldn’t relent. ‘She’ll marry him anyway,’ he said.
“Well, that just wouldn’t do. I tried calling your father, which, by the way is nearly impossible to do. No one would let me through. Finally, I came to the hotel and demanded to speak to him. It was a tossup whether hotel security or the NYPD was going to haul my ass out of that hotel, but luckily your father walked into the lobby. I launched myself at him, almost getting myself shot in the process, but as you can see, my son gets his stubbornness honestly.”
“Yes,” said Marisol with a smile. “I can see that.”
“And I told Francois that it was a crime the two of you weren’t together and he agreed. ‘But what can be done?’ your father asked. And I told him about the work my son’s company was doing, and he got very interested. So he called Ryan, which Ryan tells me nearly knocked him out of his chair. Francois told him there was no reason not to do business together, and Ryan agreed. And Francois has this wonderful way of working people.”
“Yes, I know,” said Marisol.
“And he kept dropping hints that the whole Vattakov affair was devastating to the monarchy’s reputation, that he’d made a horrible mistake in engaging you to Tristan. At the same time, he kept giving Ryan compliments about his work and saying things like ‘if I could find a son-in-law like you, this whole thing with the Vattakovs would blow over.’”
“It sounds like he laid in on thick.”
“Oh, he did, but Ryan was being thickheaded about the whole thing. You know how he gets about business.”
“Yes, the whole ‘get stuck on an idea thing.’”
“That’s right. Finally, Francois had to say, ‘Do you want to marry my daughter or not?’ Again, that nearly knocked Ryan out of his chair. And he said, ‘Of course.’ ‘Then you’d better go get her, son, because she’s stubborn too, and you’re going to have to convince her since you’ve been such an idiot about this. And it might take more than a day, and we’re leaving tomorrow.’”
Marisol laughed. “Well, it didn’t. Thank you for your part, but you must tell me, just what is going on between my father and you? He doesn’t let just anyone call him by his first name.”
Cheryl shrugged her shoulders. “He’s a very nice man. We’ve had some nice talks, that’s all.”
“Uh huh,” said Marisol, taking a sip of her drink.
“And just what are my two favorite ladies up to now?” Ryan threw his arms around both of them.
“Just talking about conspiracies,” said Cheryl archly. “And just what are you doing here now? You aren’t supposed to see the bride before the wedding.”
“I couldn’t stay away. I had to get a kiss. Come on, Marisol, let’s take a walk in the garden.”
With Ryan’s arm around her, they walked down the stairs to the elaborately decorated garden.
“Okay, confess, Ryan Kelley. Why did you pull me away from your mother?”
“What? A kiss isn’t enough of an excuse?”
“No,” said Marisol.
Ryan’s eyes travelled up the terrace where Cheryl sat. Her father closed in on her, with a smile on his lips.
“Oh, I see. Another conspiracy,” Marisol said.
“He just wants to ask her to lunch.”
“Uh huh,” said Marisol.
“And I want to get mine,” he said with a wicked gleam in his eye. Before she could say anything, Ryan crushed his lips into hers, and soon all she thought about was how good Ryan Kelley felt in her arms.
“One more day,” she whispered, “One more day and there will be no more waiting.”
***
Could she be any happier? They had the most glorious wedding on a beautiful day. Her family priest consented to have the
ceremony on palace grounds because the Catholic church they attended wasn’t big enough for all the guests. The tiny space in the center of Dalaysia’s capital would have proved a security risk.
The reception and dinner was perfect as well. The first dance in Ryan’s arms as his wife was a memory she’d treasure forever, but what brought a tear to many people there was when she danced with her father as the band played Butterfly Kisses.
Ryan and his mother danced to A Song for Mama. It was the sweetest thing Marisol ever saw, especially when Ryan kissed his mother’s cheek when the band’s singer sang “You’re the queen of my heart.” She beamed with pride at her new husband because she knew from he way he loved his mother, he would love her forever too.
Now they were alone in the suite her father had prepared for them in the palace. Marisol had her tired feet up on the table in front the large couch before the fireplace. Ryan opened the champagne also left by her father and handed her a glass.