Royal Wedding Read online

  Royal Wedding

  A Royals of Solana

  Novella

  by Susan Sheehey

  Royal Wedding

  by Susan Sheehey

  A Royals of Solana

  Novella

  All rights reserved

  Copyright © 2018, Susan Sheehey

  Cover Photo Copyright ©

  Cover Design Copyright © 2018,

  Series Logo Design Copyright © 2018, JM Walker-Just Write Creations

  Edited by Chrissy Szarek

  Amepphire Press

  Trophy Club, TX

  Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including, but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior written permission from Amepphire Press or the Author.

  eBook ISBN: 978-1947874053

  Print book ISBN: 978-1947874060

  Published in the United States of America

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  TEASER EXCERPT

  Other Novels by Susan Sheehey

  Dedication

  Chapter ONE

  Chapter TWO

  Chapter THREE

  Chapter FOUR

  Chapter FIVE

  Chapter SIX

  Chapter SEVEN

  Chapter EIGHT

  Chapter NINE

  Chapter TEN

  Chapter ELEVEN

  Chapter TWELVE

  Chapter THIRTEEN

  Chapter FOURTEEN

  Chapter FIFTEEN

  About the AUTHOR

  Novels by Susan Sheehey

  TEASER EXCERPT

  Over André’s shoulder, the lake shimmered with the sunlight bouncing across the surface. The breeze blew stronger, making the ripples spread in closer bands, turbulent and foreboding.

  A storm was coming in. The fresh rain smell mingled with André’s cologne and delicious sweat. Just in time for the cloud cover to roll in, along with a low rumble of thunder. Gemma bit her lip, and arched her back, the energy filling the room. Charging her desire.

  “You’re like the storm,” she panted. “Threatening, electrifying, consuming…impossible to avoid.”

  He smothered her mouth, slipping in his tongue like a conquering knight.

  Yep, consuming.

  “You’re the storm, Gemma. Soaking me to bone.”

  Other Novels by Susan Sheehey

  Audrey’s Promise

  ROYALS OF SOLANA series

  Prince of Solana

  Jewel of Solana

  Crown of Solana

  Royal Wedding

  KNIGHTS OF TEXAS series

  Tell Me What You Want

  Tell Me What You Crave

  Tell Me What You Need

  Dedication

  For My Father

  I miss you so much

  Chapter ONE

  Alanna

  “Your Majesty, this is a matter of State” The secretary of royal protocol followed Alanna into her office, and clutched a leather folder in his thin fingers. Rangi’s equally thin nose and frame reminded her of the older children she’d helped at the pediatric hospital years ago, but this man didn’t wear their welcoming smile. “For the nuptials of the official monarch, international leaders must be invited. It cannot be a private affair.”

  She kept her polite smile in place, although her impatience climbed higher with this new appointee.

  Since when does the Prime Minister appoint the Secretary of Royal Protocol?

  “Señor Rangi, I fully understand that. Of course, we will send out invitations for a formal event. But I’ve made it very clear that Flynn and I want to be married in a private ceremony, first.” She shuffled a few folders around on her white wooden desk. The same desk her mother had used in her drawing room years ago.

  After Alanna’s coronation, she’d had it brought into her own office, a reminder of her mother’s elegance, and patience.

  Rangi’s face flushed, as if she’d just ripped up a Holy Bible in front of him. He sputtered, and took a deep breath. “That has never been done before. Your Majesty, this is very clearly written in Royal Law. Monarchs must have their wedding witnessed by the Archbishop, and at least two foreign heads of State. Your grandfather, King Arnoldo, had to abide by this during his wedding, as well as his father, King Diego. There is precedence.”

  Alanna straightened and clasped her hands in front of her. “I have my reasons. I’ve asked you to find a way to make that happen where I’m still within the law. Invite the Archbishop to perform the private ceremony, if necessary.”

  “He doesn’t attend private ceremonies. His stature—”

  “Began as a humble priest, performing private vows. You never know unless you ask. I trust you’re more than capable to speak with him. Are you not?”

  Someone knocked on the door.

  “Pase.”

  A royal guardsman opened it, and Cataline entered. The short, raven-haired woman bowed slightly, and stepped forward. She carried a tablet and the queen’s cornflower clutch. The same color as Alanna’s linen pants, complementary to her cream silk blouse with cap sleeves.

  “They’re ready for you on the west patio.” Her personal aide smiled. When she extended the same smile to the Secretary of Royal Protocol, the wrinkles by her eyes deepened.

  “Señor Rangi, I’m looking forward to your solution. For now, please excuse me.”

  The man straightened, and bowed. Then retreated without turning his back. The second he reached the door, he bowed again, and left.

  “Either he grew up only reading the Constitutional Law book, or he swallowed it since his appointment two months ago.” Alanna shook her head, and read through a few emails from her laptop.

  Cataline grinned. “I hope the latter. The man needs some more meat on his bones.”

  She chuckled, and grabbed her suit jacket that matched her pants. Since officially ascending the throne, another wardrobe change was required. Female monarchs were not permitted to show their shoulders.

  Ridiculous.

  She had to abide, if Parliament was to agree to fund her wedding.

  “I don’t understand, Cat.” She moved around her desk, and fixed her blouse. “Parliament is forcing a huge wedding down our throats, when I’m perfectly happy with just a few people and the priest on the beach. Without all the fanfare, and more importantly, without all the expense.”

  Cataline handed her the clutch.

  She dug out the lipstick. A mirror on the wall gave her a chance to fix her hair and touch up her makeup. “Seems poor form to spend so much money on a wedding, when there are significantly more important matters at stake.”

  “I doubt the people would see their queen’s wedding as an unimportant matter,” her aid replied. “After all, your upcoming nuptials to the future Prince Gabriel have been all over the gossip mills since the second he set foot on Solanian soil beside you.”

  “I meant the money. Flynn and I don’t need grandeur. The funds on this wedding they want to show off to the world would be much better served on rebuilding hospitals and schools. Or, here’s a thought…the military outposts that were destroyed, or upgrading the airport as an international hub.”

  Cataline tilted her head. “Or, perhaps you’re fighting this so hard because you know Flynn is uncomfortable with large crowds.”

  She sighed, and stuffed the lipstick back in her clutch. “While he doesn’t prefer large crowds, it’s the spotlight in front of a large crowd tha
t makes him uncomfortable. Something to which I can relate.”

  The tablet chimed in her aide’s arms. “Security team is ready.” With the final check on Alanna’s hair, Cataline stepped back, and put the earpiece in place. “Waterlily is moving.”

  They moved through the palace hallways with four royal guardsman and an entourage of staff. She turned the corner, and at the end of the final hallway stood Flynn.

  My Flynn.

  His tan had faded slightly with all the royal duties to which he’d accompanied her. He was no longer out on the water. He missed the water. In the six months it had taken to finish the marina’s repairs, everyone had fallen in with Gabriel Flynn’s soothing green eyes, extensive knowledge of engines, and unwavering determination to help.

  The way he looked at her, Alanna loved most. When they’d first met, he couldn’t look anyone in the eye. His social quirk from childhood didn’t extend to her. Which made every moment he gazed into her eyes that much more breathtaking.

  His suit and Oxford blue tie fit him perfectly, tailored specifically for his wide shoulders, and narrowed waist. Flynn grinned, and met her halfway. He grabbed her hand, threading his fingers between hers, drawing her close for a kiss.

  The second his lips touched hers, everyone else around them melted away, and she was back on that yacht stairway from last year, where he’d first shattered her senses. Her personal savior, and master of the seas in his deckwear, drenched from the storm.

  Alanna more than remembered her body pressed against his in that moment, in a haze of pheromones and adrenaline…she craved it.

  His tongue brushed against the seam of her lips, and she hummed her approval. A fresh mint taste lingered in his mouth. Reminding her just how hungry she was. The last she’d seen him was this morning, where she’d risen early to start her full day of meetings and official duties, and he’d still lay buried in the covers when she kissed his forehead. Only to pull her in with him and start her day in a more invigorating exercise.

  Cataline cleared her throat.

  Alanna pulled back, and licked her lips. “It feels like forever since I did that.”

  “A whole seven hours.” His hand never let go.

  She giggled at the sight of her lipstick on Flynn’s mouth. Pulling out a tissue from her clutch, she wiped off the rose color. “Probably not a good idea to have your lipstick matching mine.”

  “I like your brand on my skin. Tastes good.”

  “Your Majesty,” Cataline whispered. “You should check your makeup before we—”

  Alanna glanced at the surrounding staff, all smiling with super wide grins. Her cheeks heated, and she quickly reapplied her lipstick.

  Flynn gave her hand another final squeeze, before he released, and stood behind her. The queen always entered first, per royal hierarchy.

  The doors to the west patio swung open, and two guards moved to the side.

  When they cleared the way, Queen Alanna stepped into the sunlight, with a flurry of camera flashes and applause.

  The bright sunlight covered her face in warmth, the tropical paradise greeting her on another beautiful day. No more turmoil or violence, nor terror and strife.

  A subtle hint of salt water and hibiscus flowers hung in the air throughout her beloved island.

  She approached the podium, all glass with a thin microphone attached. The leather folder with her speech sat open, waiting for her.

  When the applause died, she opened the folder, and began.

  The crowd hung on her every word, as they all had ever since she’d returned home. Ever since she claimed the throne, the one a vicious cartel had overthrown, and murdered both her father and the crown prince, Tulio.

  Her eldest brother, André, had been exiled eight years earlier, for his philandering ways and reckless behavior after their mother’s death. All prior to the chaos. He’d returned as well, and became her strongest supporter, and right-hand man. After all, until she and Flynn gave birth to an heir, André was next in line to the throne.

  He’d made it clear he didn’t want the crown.

  Here she stood, third child of King Rodrigo Peralta, the only daughter, ruling Solana.

  “Thank you all for being here today and listening to the updates of the restoration. For my final announcement, which I’m sure you’re all more interested in…” Alanna grinned, and more cameras flashed among an otherwise dead silent press conference. “I am pleased to officially announce the engagement between myself and Gabriel Flynn.”

  The reporters burst into a buzzing frenzy, with a few cheers and scattered questions.

  She held up her hand waiting for their silence. “We have yet to decide on a date or location, but as soon as those details are determined, we will share them.”

  “How did he propose?” one reporter called from the back.

  She smiled. Because she’d actually proposed to him. Months ago. When she’d signed her official ascension papers. That was no one else’s business. “While I’d like to keep some details private, I will say the proposal occurred here at the palace, in a fairly informal setting. The perfect proposal, in my opinion.” The grin she shared with Flynn made more cameras flash. She’d let their imaginations run with those few nuggets. The press was good at that.

  “Mr. Flynn,” another reporter shouted. “Did you know she’d say yes when you asked her?”

  Flynn stepped forward so he could speak into the microphone, and interlaced his fingers with hers. “I never ask a question to which I don’t already know the answer.”

  Alanna chuckled.

  He’s getting good at answering questions without actually answering them.

  “Your Majesty, do you have a comment on the recent rumors that Prince André and Gemma Westfall have split?”

  Her head shot up. Eyes searched for whoever had asked that question. “Excuse me?”

  A lady on the far right asked again.

  The crowd went silent.

  More cameras flashed.

  “You all know I don’t comment on my brother’s personal relationships. But you also know I put no stock in rumors. Thank you all for coming. Have a wonderful day.”

  She waved to the press, her polite smile back in place, and left, hand in hand with Flynn. The second they were behind closed doors, she faced Cataline with raised eyebrows.

  “I sincerely apologize, Your Majesty. I was unaware—”

  “Please get my brother on the phone.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She turned to Flynn. “When was the last time you saw either of them?”

  “A few days ago. Rico’s birthday party. They didn’t appear out of the ordinary.”

  She bit the inside of her cheek. “Come to think of it, I haven’t seen them since either.” The celebration for Gemma’s friend and now one of the Royal Stablemen had gone on nearly all night on the royal yacht, Esperanza.

  A staff member handed over her personal cell phone, and she texted André.

  Where are you?

  Cataline handed her a different phone. “Ma’am, Stefano on the line…”

  With a deep breath, she hoped her brother’s bodyguard and Head Royal Guardsman would have some answers. “Stefano? What’s going on?”

  Chapter TWO

  André

  He scraped his fingers through his hair, and stared out the window. The recent announcement ripped André to shreds. Thank goodness he’d retreated to their lake estate, so they wouldn’t be hounded by paparazzi and the press.

  Lago del Sol, in the lake country of Solana reminded him much of Italy’s Lake Como, though much less populated and quite a bit warmer in the equatorial climes. Just as blue. Like Gemma’s eyes.

  His heart sank.

  Stefano knocked on their door. No other security detail traveled with them this time, so they wouldn’t draw attention in town as they drove in.

  Just Stefano.

  “Your Highness?”

  “Come in.”

  The Solanian soldier entered, his b
ack rigid. Maintaining the guardsman posture and blank expression, as if ingrained in his blood after all these years, despite his casual navy polo shirt and slacks. “The queen has heard the rumors. She’d like to speak with you.”

  André nodded. “Tell her I’ll ring her back in a few minutes. I need to speak with someone else first.”

  Stefano bowed, his salt and pepper hair considerably more ‘salty’ over the years, especially since the assassination of the king and crown prince nearly twelve months ago.

  He left, closing the door behind him.

  André prepared himself for the ugly conversation he was about to have. With a final sigh, he stood from the bed, and strolled to the patio door. With a heavy push, he stepped out onto a large stone balcony and descended the stairs off to the side. The two dozen steps ended in a private beach, the peach sand soft and granular, like warm sugar under his bare feet.

  He shoved his hands in his pockets; the canvas shorts snug against his thighs. And waited.

  After a few moments of absorbing the sun, the figure he anticipated swam back to shore in a strong, even stroke.

  Gemma reached the shoreline and stood, her black sports bikini dripping water down her toned body. Her refreshed expression and tan skin nearly made him ache with wanting.

  She was a Texas girl through and through, but the tropical look fitted her even better, in his opinion.

  She brushed her blonde hair back, the ends reaching her lower neck. When dry, her hair reached just under her chin in wavy strands. He loved to run his hands through it.

  When she opened her eyes and spotted him, she smiled. That earth-shattering smile he craved, one she rarely gave when he’d first met her, but recently wore more often.