"Enough," Prince barked. He needed to think.
By the time Prince had realized her intentions and dashed after her…it was too late. All he'd caught was the tail of the golden coach drawn with six white horses darting away at breakneck speed. He put his arm up in an effort to halt her flight, but could only watch in helpless despair her wave of farewell from the small rear window. He swore he'd seen anguish in those exquisite eyes.
He'd dropped his head, and gasped.
There-in plain sight-on the stoop descending the ballroom doors, lay proof that this night of heaven had not been just a dream of his bride-to-be vanishing into thin air…was a lone glass slipper.