Jasmine stood
outside the fabled Hotel Imperial, her mouth hanging open. This was supposedly
one of the most romantic hotels in the world. Her day just got better and
better.
She
checked in, her heart soaring when told they were expecting her, and asked for
a map and a directory of clothing stores. Her head told her to entertain the
possibility that she wasn’t going to the ball – she’d find out in a few
minutes – but she needed underwear, toiletries, something to wear tomorrow.
She
followed a personal butler to the suite booked in Adam’s name. He opened the
door with a flourish and left her alone.
Jasmine
was too awestruck to wonder where Adam was. She shed her coat, handbag and
shoes where she stood, walked out into the middle over a star-patterned
parquet floor, and just stood for long minutes, taking it all in. It was too
much! If she expired right this minute, she could not be happier.
Opulence of a degree she’d never encountered transported her back to another
age. Crystal chandeliers glittered from the high ceiling. Rich silk covered
the walls behind gilded frames holding precious nineteenth-century oil
paintings. Antique chaise lounges, bowl of flowers and fruit – she nearly
cried out when she saw the perfect Biedermeier armoire. Everywhere she looked,
a new treasure delighted her.
After
an age, she walked into the bedroom with some trepidation. Surely such
perfection could not be improved upon. She was wrong. The huge canopied bed
somehow didn’t dwarf the room, perhaps because of the impressive height of the
ceilings or the massive Baroque-framed mirror opposite. Elegant casement
windows flooded the room with light and looked out over the Musikverein, one
of the finest concert halls in the world and home to the Vienna Philharmonic.
By the
time she got to the bathroom, Jasmine’s senses were exhausted but it boasted
every conceivable luxury, she was sure. Plus a sign that Adam had been here, a
damp towel on the rail and his toiletries on the double vanity. Further checks
revealed clothes in the closet, a used cup in the sink and an English
newspaper open on a sofa.
She sat
on a plush chaise lounge and took out her phone, assuming he would have the
same number he’d used in New Zealand. But on a whim, she called Gill instead
of Adam. “You’ll never guess where I am.”
Gill
squealed when she heard. Jasmine floated around the suite again, trying to
describe it. Finally, she remembered to ask after her father.
There
was an ominous pause. “He’s not having a good day. He talked to Ian, who
painted a rather grim picture of Adam’s character, and also said you’ve given
him no hope of you two marrying someday.”
Jasmine
sighed. She knew her father would be upset to know there was no hope of her
and Ian marrying. Why couldn’t he see how unreasonable it was to try to force
her in this day and age?
She
snorted and looked around. What day and age was she in again?
A knock at the door sounded. “Gill? I have to go. I think Adam’s just arrived
back.” She told her stepmother she would be back in a couple of days and
opened the door to find the butler holding a very large flat box.
“Fraulein Cooper?”
“Ja?”
She
took the box and he waved away her tip. Jasmine pulled off the ribbon and
tissue paper, humming with excitement. Her breath caught in her throat when
she saw the color of the gown. She’d describe it as thistle, a pale purple but
with a depth that surpassed lilac. It was strapless with two ruched panels in
the front, so that the full overskirt raised up, revealing lilac gauze
underneath. The bodice sparkled with Swarovski crystals.
.It was the most beautiful thing Jasmine
had ever seen. She lifted it carefully, noting the hand-wrought hanger, and
rushed to the bedroom mirror, holding it up against her.
In the
image, her average grey eyes were shining and looked almost indigo. One hand
held the dress against her front while she hurriedly scooped her hair up with
the other. Her happiness knew no bounds. Adam had bought her a gown. What else
was she to think but that Cinderella would go to the ball!
But
where was her prince? She remembered her phone and regretfully hung the gown
in the wardrobe. She had just walked out of the bedroom when another knock
sounded. The butler with another box. Jasmine just stood there, looking at him
stupidly, and the poor man had to walk past her, place the box on the table
and close the door behind him.
A white
fur cape. Correction, faux fur. And not quite white, a smoky pale grey. The
perfect accessory for the gown.
Accessories. She’d need gloves, shoes, a strapless bra. Maybe some
earrings…how much time did she have? It was then that she noticed the
envelope on the exceptional Baroque writing desk. Of course, he would think
with her love of antiques that she would have looked there first, but the
whole suite was full of such treasures. She slid a single heavy page from the
envelope. Handwritten, brief: Your carriage will be waiting downstairs at
7.00pm. I’ll see you by the Grand Staircase. A.
Jasmine
checked her watch and got moving.
A
couple of hours later, she staggered into the suite, laden with bags. Shower,
make-up, hair…no time for an appointment with a ballfrisuren, the hotel
hairdresser specializing in ball hairdos.
She’d
have to make do herself. Humming Die Fledermaus, she threw herself into her
preparations.
At five
minutes before seven, she left the suite, walked out of the hotel and was
guided into a horse-drawn carriage. Of course…
They
moved slowly down the Ringstrasse toward the Hofburg Palace. A light snow
fell, and the city glittered. Everything was so perfect, Jasmine felt she
might die with happiness. And the first nerves were starting to bite at the
thought of seeing him again. He had been so angry with her.
She
hadn’t expected him to be so thoughtful. Or generous. She’d heard Adam was
well off, but this excursion must have cost a small fortune. How could she
ever repay him?
Unease
slipped below the mantle of joy cloaking her, just for a moment. She knew
exactly what he expected for payment. But surely he knew that all this trouble
and expense wasn’t necessary. Her acquiescence to Adam Thorne came as cheap as
one touch, one look into his eyes.
Then the lights of the palace showed through the snow and her nerves
evaporated. The fairy tale continued. They slowly approached the great palace
where it seemed a thousand windows glowed. Jasmine floated toward the
entrance, along with hundreds of others in their beautiful clothes, and
finally she was inside.
Lord,
how would she ever find him? There must have been a couple of thousand people
milling around, all craning their necks, waiting with a muted air of
expectancy.
She
looked for the staircase and took stock. The men were all in black or white
tails or dinner suits. Jasmine moved in the direction of the great marble
staircase and then, wonder of wonders, there he was, head and shoulders above
everyone else, even though he leaned against a wall. His dark good looks
magnetized her eyes. Perfect – except there were still about a thousand bodies
between them.
Luckily
the Imperial Guards chose that moment to conduct their Changing of the Guard
ceremony and the crowd mostly stilled so she was able to push her way through,
looking up every so often to check on his location. Her apprehension grew as
she neared. Would he like the gown on her? Was he still angry? But she
couldn’t believe he would go to all this trouble and expense if he did not
intend her to enjoy it.
She
paused about ten feet away to admire him. The elegant black dinner suit draped
his tall, lean body, caressing his broad shoulders and slim hips. With his
trendy haircut and trademark stubble, he hardly fit the mold of one of the
Imperial family, but he stood out like an Emperor with his presence and
vitality. A perfectly tied bow tie completed the package. She drank the sight
in and tucked it away to last her the rest of her life.
As if on cue, he half-turned. His head raised, as if scenting the air, and
then his eyes found hers and sucked the breath from her lungs. He straightened
but did not walk forward to meet her. A commanding presence in a sea of
people. The crowds and the opulence, even the orchestra faded away and to
Jasmine, they were the only two people here. Holding his gaze, her confidence
surging, she moved toward her prince as if in a dream. They stared at each
other, his stern demeanor softening into admiration. Finally Jasmine could
breathe again.
She
felt more beautiful than she had ever felt in her life. In that one long look,
he’d given her back her pride, her self-confidence, her belief in herself as a
desirable woman. All the things she’d lost years ago. He took both her gloved
hands and just looked at her as if seeing her for the first time.
From "His Vienna Christmas Bride" by Jan Colley
Silhouette Desire October 2009
ISBN:
13-978-0-373-76974-2
Copyright: © 2008 Jan Colley
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher.
The edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A. For more
romance information surf to:
http://www.eHarlequin.com
