Ella still couldn’t quite believe she was hanging out with Gina Domenico, the golden-voiced singer who’d sung in her ear when she holed up in her room and wished she were living a different life than the one she had. Gina’s songs were about strength and purpose and heartbreak. They were about life lived to the fullest. Ella could hear the refrain from one of her favorites, “Get It, Girl,” playing in her head as she surveyed the dresses hanging from a garment rack in Gina’s bedroom.

Gina was strong and amazing. She had a gorgeous man, two adorable children, and the world at her feet. Ella wished she was half as strong and accomplished.

“You okay, hon?” Gina asked.

“Yes.” Ella cleared her throat. “Just thinking. So much has happened.”

“Do you wish you’d stayed where you were?”

“No, definitely not.” There was nothing for her in the life she’d left behind.

“I know Cash is a bit gruff and pissed off right now, but he’ll come around. He’s a good guy, Ella. I know the type because I married one. But let me tell you, it wasn’t all roses and sunshine. It was hard, and I had to fight for what I wanted.”

Ella’s brows drew together. Gina and Jack seemed so happy. “He didn’t want to get married?”

Gina snorted. “He didn’t want anything to do with me. It’s complicated, but the short story is that we didn’t see each other for four years after the first time. I had Eli, our son, but I didn’t tell Jack because he’d told me he didn’t want children.” Her expression pinched. “Well, it was more than that—but anyway, it took four years. And he was furious with me. Truthfully, I thought he hated me—but it worked out. Everything happens for a reason.”

“I don’t even know Cash. I don’t know that I want to be married to him. But I’m grateful for him, and I’ll do whatever it takes to be free of my aunt and uncle.”

Gina reached out and squeezed her hand. “Cash was there for a reason. I believe that. Whatever happens between you is meant to happen.” She shrugged. “Nothing to do but wait and see. Now, tell me which of these dresses you want to try on first.”

Ella chose a long strapless white dress with a sweetheart neckline. The dress was silky and glowing, the skirt falling to the floor and trailing behind. Gina had underwear to go with it, and Ella changed in the bathroom, gasping at the sleek lines of the dress in the mirror. When she walked out to show Gina, the other woman put her hand to her mouth with a soft oh.

“That’s lovely, Ella. I don’t think you should try anything else.” She pulled a black ribbon off the rack and came over to wind it around Ella’s waist. “Just a little contrast. What do you think?”

Ella turned to the mirror and stared at herself in wonder. This dress was more her than the lacy, bejeweled thing she’d worn yesterday. It was perfect.

“And one more thing,” Gina said, going over to the dresser and retrieving something. When she returned with a tiara, Ella started to shake her head. It was too much like yesterday, too much making her into what she was supposed to be rather than what she felt like.

“Oh honey,” Gina said. “It’s okay. It’s meant to drive home the idea that you are a princess to the media. If they don’t see a tiara, they won’t quite emphasize that fact. And we want them to. We want them to run with the narrative that a royal princess has found her American prince. It will make your aunt and uncle’s story much less appealing.”

Ella bowed her head while Gina put the tiara into place. When she lifted her head and gazed in the mirror, it wasn’t as out of place as she’d feared. The tiara was small, tasteful, nothing like the bejeweled crown of yesterday. It perched on her hair like an airy confection. Enhancing but not dominating. It worked.

“See?” Gina said.

“Yes.”

“I know it’s common to put your hair up with a strapless dress, but I think leaving yours long is the right answer.” She lifted a lock of Ella’s hair. “You have beautiful hair, and leaving it long emphasizes innocence and virginity.”

Ella was a little shocked. “You’ve thought about this a lot.”

Gina laughed. “I love weddings. I admit it. Honestly, if I weren’t an entertainer, I’d be a wedding coordinator. There’s just something about watching a girl walk down the aisle—and seeing the groom’s reaction to her—that makes me happy. When the groom has no idea what’s going to happen—and even sometimes when he does—the look on his face is just… Oh…”

Ella couldn’t help but laugh a little bit. “Cash won’t be looking at me that way. It’s like that reality show where they got married at first sight. That’s us. Most of those didn’t work out, right?”

“Yes, but you’re playing a part here. For the media. So we’re going act like this is a love match.”

Ella gulped. “I can do it.”

“I know you can. Ready?”

Ella nodded and Gina led her back out to the living room. Jack and Cash weren’t there, but someone rapped on the door, and a servant appeared out of nowhere to open it. Ella wondered why Gina hadn’t let the man open the door earlier, but maybe he hadn’t gotten a chance. In fact, the man had pretty much rushed the door like he was attacking it. Quite possibly on orders from Jack Hunter.

It wasn’t anyone dangerous on the other side though. It was a man in an Elvis costume, along with a woman who carried a briefcase. Ella blinked and Gina clapped, laughing.

“Perfect,” she said. “Absolutely perfect.”

“Is this little lady the bride?” Elvis asked with a curl of his lip.

“She is indeed.”

Ella thought it was a little obvious, but whatever.

“Thank you. Thank you verra much.” Elvis swaggered inside and then dropped on one knee in front of her. When he broke out into “Love Me Tender,” Ella’s eyes widened in shock.

He took her hand, singing that he wanted her to love him tender, love him true. All his dreams fulfilled. It was silly and poignant at the same time, because the man she was marrying felt none of those things.

As if on cue, Cash appeared with Jack. He’d changed into a black tux, and her heart did a flip in her chest. My God, how did he manage to look so handsome and so tough at the same time?

He glared at Elvis for a long minute, but Elvis didn’t seem to care. She thought that Cash shot her an odd look, but she wasn’t sure. Probably he had. He didn’t want to get married, and now this.

Freaking Elvis.

When Elvis finished his song, he got to his feet with a flourish, kissed Ella’s hand, and straightened the lapels of his white sequined jumpsuit. “Y’all ready for some tender lovin’?”

Gina was laughing. “We certainly are.”

Cash’s frown was heavy, but he strolled over and stood beside Ella. “So where are we doing this?”

“Right there’s good,” Elvis said.

He turned to the woman with the briefcase. A moment later, he was wearing a shawl and holding a Bible. His expression grew serious.

“Dearly beloved,” he began.

It didn’t take long to run through the ceremony. Ella kept expecting her aunt and uncle to burst into the room and put an end to the whole thing, but it didn’t happen. Before she knew it, she was saying, “I do.”

“You may now kiss the bride,” Elvis said, and Cash turned to face her.

He looked awfully angry. Or maybe it was despair. Because he was trapped.

“Sorry,” she mouthed.

He frowned harder. And then he reached for her. Her heart thudded a dizzy drumbeat in her ears as he wrapped her in his embrace. His mouth lowered to hers. She braced herself for a whirlwind of sensation, like earlier—but it didn’t happen.

He treated her like he had the first time he’d kissed her. A brief touch and then it was over and he was looking down at her. She blinked up at him. Before she could gather her thoughts, he set her away—gently—and turned back to Elvis.

Elvis was smiling, his thick black hair and bushy sideburns almost comical as he shoved on his sunglasses and clicked his teeth. “Thank you. Thank you verra much, Cash and Ella. Congratulations. I hope your life together is long and fruitful. Now, if you can sign these documents, we’ll be done.”

Ella and Cash both signed, and a waiter appeared with champagne flutes. Ella took one. So did everyone else. Gina stood with Jack, a tear in her eye.

“Oh my gosh, y’all,” she gushed. “I’m just so happy for you both. May you be as happy as Jack and I.”

Jack put an arm around her and kissed the top of her hair. He murmured something to her that made her smile and swipe a finger beneath her eyes. Then she turned to him and cupped his jaw, kissing him swiftly and hotly.

Ella burned with envy. That’s what she wanted. What she’d always wanted. To belong. To know she had a home with one person who cared.

Gina lifted her glass. “To Cash and Ella.”

Ella touched the glass to her lips. She’d had champagne, so it was nothing new, but this version tasted so much better than the one her aunt and uncle served. It tasted expensive, and she found that it went down much easier than anything she’d ever had before.

Her insides warmed as the wine hit and burst into tiny bubbles in her belly. She felt mellow, calm, and she smiled as a photographer appeared and took pictures of them together—and with Elvis. Ella didn’t find it hard to smile with a glass of champagne in her. She threaded her arm into Cash’s and smiled big as the photographer snapped photos.

Cash twirled her into his arms and held her close. Her heart pounded and her belly flipped as she laughed. Jack and Gina joined them, the four of them hamming it up for the photos. In another picture, it was just her and Gina. It felt so natural, so ordinary, that Ella had no trouble smiling and laughing.

When Elvis, his assistant, and the photographer were gone, her veins still hummed from the champagne. She wasn’t drunk, but she was happy.

“Well, that went over rather well,” Gina said. And then she sighed. “Not the ideal wedding, but good. Ella, if it doesn’t work out with this clown, let me know. I’d love to coordinate a real, big gala wedding.”

“I will,” Ella replied. But in truth she couldn’t imagine it. She’d nearly had the big gala wedding, and it had unnerved her to the point she’d run. And thank God she had.

She glanced at Cash. He’d accepted a second glass of champagne, but he was frowning. She took another one too. She was going to need it if she had to endure his frowns.

Gina clapped her hands. “All right, I know this is the time when you’d run off to the reception in a typical wedding, but I need an hour to take care of some prior commitments before we go out on the town. Can you two amuse yourselves?”

“Yeah, we got it,” Cash said.

She didn’t know what that meant, but after copious cheek kissing and plans to meet downstairs in an hour, Ella and Cash left the suite and strode silently toward their room. Cash didn’t say a word, and the longer it went on, the more unnerved she felt.

They reached their room and he swiped the keycard.

Ella drifted past a mirror on her way inside and started. “I left my clothes!”

The white dress was stunning, but it wasn’t something she should wear out on the town. Cash flicked a glance at her. He glanced down and realized he was still in his tuxedo.

“Fuck. Damn that Gina.”

Ella felt a little bit offended on Gina’s behalf. “She’s nice. I like her.”

“She is nice. She also meddles.”

“She means well.”

“She thinks every damn wedding leads to happy ever after.”

“I don’t think she thinks that at all. She’s happy in her marriage. She hopes other people will be as well.”

He considered her before he jerked his tie loose and went over to pour a drink from the liquor cabinet. “Want anything?”

Ella shook her head. She was still swimming from the last one.

She was surprised when he handed her a glass of white wine. She thought about refusing, but she took it anyway. He took a sip of his drink—whiskey, she thought—and she did the same.

“Tell me more about Capriolo,” he said.

Ella blinked. “More? I have never been there.”

“How was the monarchy set up? Who was the king? That kind of thing.”

Ella frowned. She honestly didn’t remember much about what she’d been told. “I don’t know. My grandfather was the king—but there was a coup, and we were sent into exile. My parents lived in Europe. Italy. I think I spent the first eight years of my life in Tuscany and the Amalfi Coast. I loved it there.”

“How did your parents die?”

Her heart pinched. It always hurt to think of Mama and Papa. They had loved her. When she’d gone to Aunt Flavia and Uncle Gaetano, she’d thought she’d get more of the same. She’d been terribly wrong.

“A car accident. The Amalfi Coast is very twisty and turny. They were out driving—and something happened. Failed brakes, a car running them off the road—I don’t know precisely. All I know is they never came back. And I was sent to America.”