The King Takes A Bride (Royals Book 4) (25 page)

Read The King Takes A Bride (Royals Book 4) Online

Authors: Danielle Bourdon

Tags: #Romance, #contemporary romance, #King, #Love, #Billionaire, #Royal, #Princess, #Passion, #Wedding, #Suspense, #Intrigue, #Sensual, #Adventure

BOOK: The King Takes A Bride (Royals Book 4)
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Two days had passed since their wedding. Only two days before the advent of her coronation, an event anticipated by the leaders and the population now that she was Sander's wife. For the ceremony, she'd chosen a gilded gown with a snug bodice and long sleeves. A brocade pattern the same color as the dress added texture to the skirt, swirling up from the hem. Hanna had styled her hair into an artful array of curls piled high and held with pins.

Arriving before the councilmen, one holding a decree, the other a sword, and still another a staff, Chey listened to the ritual intoned to the room and went down on a knee when it was time. She made her promises to the crown, the country, and her King. Gleaming, the sword touched one shoulder, and another.

Chey glanced at Sander. A quick deviation. He regarded her with pride in his eyes, along with a wealth of affection and encouragement.

The crown settled onto her head, placed carefully with gloved hands. Chey swallowed a knot of emotion.

Queen. She was Queen of Latvala.

Rising, she signed the decree with a shaky hand, hoping her signature didn't come out too sloppy or skewed. Releasing the pen, she straightened to accept the staff the third councilman placed in her hands.

“Congratulations, your Highness,” he said with a bow of his head.

“Thank you.” Chey took three steps up to the throne next to Sander. Easing around, she sat, keeping the staff at an angle in front of her body.

A flurry of pictures commenced once the men moved out of the way. The witnesses cheered and stood, applauding the ceremony. Somewhere out there, Chey knew Wynn watched, probably dabbing a few tears from the corners of her eyes.

As with Sander's coronation, the witnesses, reporters and other important personages were guided from the throne room after a short time, leaving the King and Queen alone. After the last person exited, and the guards closed the doors, Chey exhaled a long breath.

“You were excellent,” Sander said beside her.

She glanced over. “Thanks. I was a nervous wreck. Did it show?”

“Not at all. How do you feel?” he asked, a gleam in his eyes.

She smiled. “Very...Queenly. I'm glad I don't have to wear this stuff all the time though. I keep worrying I'll drop the staff or tilt my head too far and the crown will go rolling across the floor.”

“I'm sure Wynn will magically appear from somewhere to catch it,” Sander said, voice dry as dry could be.

Chey guffawed. At the reception, when Chey had tossed her bouquet behind her to the gaggle of single women clustered in a group, it had been Wynn who came out on top. Literally. Not without a squeal and a scrabble and an unfeminine leap. The spectacle was still being talked about and probably would be for some time to come.

“She's advantageous,” Chey said, humor lacing the words.

Sander gave her such a droll look that Chey laughed again.

“You need to kiss me now,” Chey said once she recovered.

“Bossy already, hm? Has ten minutes even passed?” he joked, grinning deviously.

“Quit pretending you don't like it. We both know you do.” She leaned toward him, one hand lifting to make sure the crown didn't topple.

“I like sassy. Bossy is up for debate.” He matched her lean, coming in slow, gaze ticking between her eyes and her mouth.

“I'm both. You get a twofer.”

“A what?” He frowned, mouths three inches apart.

“Two for one.”

“That sounds kinky--”


Sander.
I
will
beat you with this staff.”

Laughing, he leaned back and rose from the chair.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Chey huffed, indignant she hadn't gotten her kiss.

Sander set the staff carefully on his throne, then took hers from her hands. It joined his. “The ritual that comes
after
the coronation. Or have you forgotten?”

Chey gave up her staff, grinning when he scooped her off the chair, holding her bridegroom style. Oh, she remembered what happened after his coronation all right. “No, my memory serves me just fine.”

“Why have just one kiss here when we could have a hundred elsewhere?” He wagged his brows and prowled toward the side doors, carrying her with ease.

“I think we should have coronations
every
day,” she teased.

“Trust me. I
can
make it happen.”

“I dare you.”

He laughed. “You're on.”

Epilogue

“This will feel a little cold.”

Chey didn't mind the squirt of cool fluid across the swell of her stomach. Reclining on a patient table in a room made purposely dim, she held tight to Sander's hand and stared at the monitor where, soon, a fuzzy picture of their baby would appear. This was her third ultrasound, and the one, with any luck, where they found out the gender of their child. She was anxious and impatient to know if it was a boy or a girl. A string of bets had been going on between the inner circle that had turned playful and a touch rowdy.

The doctor found a good angle and pointed out the obvious: head, spine, legs, arms. At twenty-two weeks, they were easy to see. He assured them everything looked to be right on schedule. He spent long minutes making measurements, the equipment clicking and humming.

Finally, the doctor said, “Would you like to know the gender?”

“Yes.” Sander and Chey spoke at the same time, one over the other. Grinning, Chey glanced at Sander, who smiled back, then they looked at the screen. In the background, the reassuring thump of the baby's heartbeat could be heard.

The doctor examined the screen, clearly aiming for a better angle.

“It's got to be a boy,” Sander said.

“It's a girl,” Chey argued, probably for the thousandth time. All during their lovely honeymoon—two blissful weeks on Barbados—they had bantered, bet, used tarot cards and every other possible gimmick to guess the baby's sex. Sander had presented her with a tiny gold crown in a blue velvet box to indicate his surety they were having a boy.

Chey had returned the favor the next morning by hanging a frilly pink dress on his shower door.

The doctor chuckled. “Ah, here we go.”

Chey held her breath.

Sander tightened his hand on her own.

“It's a boy.”

“I knew it!” Sander let go of Chey to make touchdown arms. He strutted ridiculously around the room, causing Chey to guffaw.

“Stop preening! You probably cheated! Doctor, did Sander call you ahead of time and ask? Did you tell him from the blood tests?” Chey eyed the physician with good natured mirth.

The doctor, grinning, held up his hands. “I know nothing.”

Chey gasped and looked at Sander. “You cheated!”

“I didn't cheat! I just knew it was a boy.” Coming back to the table, he leaned over to lay a blatant kiss on her mouth.

“I'll let you two clean up her stomach. Congratulations.” Laughing, the doctor exited the room.

Chey stroked her fingers over Sander's jaw. “A boy.”

“The next one will be, too,” he predicted.

“Just how many do you think we're going to have, Mister?” Chey trembled with amusement.

“As many as I deem necessary.” Sander inflated his chest importantly, doing a poor job of hiding his mirth.

Chey scoffed. “As many as
I
want to have, you mean.”

“No,” he said, using the imperious tone that had once caused so much friction between them. “We need at least three boys and two girls.”

Chey squawked in protest. “
What?
Are you crazy?”

“Not yet. Give me time.”

“Are you suggesting I'll make you lose your mind?” She feigned indignation.

“You make me lose my mind on a nightly basis, especially when you su--”


Sander Darrion Ahtissari!”
Laughing, she cut off any lascivious remarks he might make with a demanding kiss.

 

. . .

 

About the Author

 

Born and raised in Corona California, Danielle now resides in Texas with her husband and two sons. She has been writing for as long as she can remember, penning works in a number of genres. To date, she has published fifteen novels and nine short stories. Her interests vary wildly: reading, traveling, photography, graphic art and baking, among others.

 

There is a black cat named Sheba involved who thinks Danielle's laptop is her personal grooming station.

 

Check her website for trading card offers, giveaways and announcements!

www.daniellebourdon.com

 

Other books by Danielle Bourdon:

 

AMAZON US:

 

The Latvala Royals Series:

 

Heir Untamed -
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King and Kingdom –
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Heir in Exile –
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The Fate Series:

 

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The Fate of Chaos -
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The Reign of Mayhem -
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A Crisis of Fate -
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The Society Series:

 

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Violin Song -
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Vengeance for the Dead -
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Sin and Sacrifice -
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Templar's Creed -
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The Seven Seals -
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Bound by Blood -
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Dréoteth -
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Cemetery Psalms -
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