by A. C. Arthur
She licked her lips again and folded her hands in her lap. She did not look away from him. Other women blushed and looked down whenever he offered them a compliment. They giggled at his jokes and acted breathless after his kisses. They fell into his bed as easily as he slipped on a pair of pants. And, in the end, they had absolutely no idea who he really was.
“It would have been rude to bring up any of those things,” she finally replied. “And besides, I can hardly judge anyone considering all the stories flying around the island about me and my father.”
“Did you like being here today?” he asked.
She nodded immediately. “I did. But it can’t happen again.”
“Why? You don’t want to eat really good food and sit on the beach again?”
Her head shook slightly. “I don’t want the next rumor to be that I’ve gone from your brother to you,” she replied.
The words had come quick and succinctly, as if she were making a definitive statement that he shouldn’t even consider debating. Unfortunately for her, Roland never did anything that was expected of him.
“For the first time in my life I can be near a woman and not see dollar signs in her eyes or hear the feigned adoration in her tone. I can breathe easily and speak freely. I know, because you’ve already had your own run-ins with gossip and whispers behind your back, that you respect my privacy.”
“There’s no such thing as privacy on this island, Your Highness.”
“Stop calling me that!” he shouted and instantly regretted it.
She hadn’t moved, but her expression had changed. No longer was she casually staring at him; surprise now registered across her face.
He sighed. “I mean, you can call me Roland when we’re together. It’s just us, so you can just say my name.”
“Thank you for today, Roland,” she said lightly. “It was the best picnic I’ve ever been on.”
Roland shook his head. He was the one to turn away this time, staring out to the water as he spoke. “I’m glad to hear that. Next time I’ll come up with something better.”
“This was the best because it was the first,” she whispered.
At the hint of sadness in her voice, Roland turned to look at her. She was staring down at an empty wineglass now, tracing a finger over its crystal rim. Her tone perfectly depicted the way he felt. Unhappy, despondent and resigned to fate. He wondered how long they would both continue with this inner struggle, unable or unwilling to do what was necessary to break free.
His phone rang, the Star Wars-themed ringtone casting a hint of humor over the otherwise somber mood.
“Episodes 4 through 6,” she said as he reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone.
With the device now ringing in the palm of his hand, Roland replied with a smile, “Of course, they’re the best.”
She was smiling at him. A genuine smile that reflected a soft light in her eyes. Then he finally pushed the answer button on the phone and put it to his ear.
“This is Roland,” he answered.
After releasing a series of curse words he said, “I’ll be right there.”
He disconnected the call and let his head fall back, his eyes closed.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” Valora asked, but he couldn’t speak.
He did not want to repeat the words he’d just heard, did not want to believe this was happening.
“Roland? How can I help?”
“It’s my father,” he said and started to move. “I have to go.”
He was up and coming from under the canopy in seconds, signaling to the guard he knew was only about fifteen feet away.
“Command sent us a message. We’re ready to go, Your Highness,” Brunson told him. “You can ride in the truck with us and we’ll have someone take your car back to your house.”
“No,” Roland replied instantly. He’d just pushed his feet into his shoes. “I can drive myself.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Your Highness. It will be safer if—”
Roland quickly cut the guard off. “It will be safer if you let me do what I want to do. Now stay here and make sure the crew gets all of this cleaned up. They’re in that white truck down the road. Tell the security team I’m on my way to the hospital.”
“Your Highness, I don’t think you should drive yourself. I’m sure your emotions are running high and—” Brunson tried once more.
“I’ve got it!” Roland yelled and pulled his car keys out of his front pants pocket.
In a quick and unexpected motion the keys were snatched from his hand.
“I’ve got it,” Valora said. “I’ll drive him to the hospital.”
She’d put on her shoes and was already walking in the direction of his parked car, where two other guards had been standing watch over the vehicle.
Brunson looked like he wanted to object again, but Roland’s look must have warned the man against it. After all, Roland was still pissed that the guy was basically Kris’s personal spy. Turning away from him, Roland felt like he should say something to Valora. But she looked determined and kind of sexy as she walked purposefully to his car and slipped behind the wheel. Besides, his father had just had a heart attack; there was no time to argue or ogle or anything else. Roland only hoped there was time to save the prince.
Chapter 6
Sisters of Serenity was the only hospital on the island, and it was located on the southern tip. The Children’s Hospital had once been a smaller ward of the facility, but eventually morphed into a connecting building where only children were treated.
Roland moved swiftly through the empty halls. He was aware of the three guards that had traveled in separate cars, following him and Valora. Hospital security had been waiting at a back door when the first guard vehicle had pulled up. Roland had jumped out the moment Valora parked his car behind the guard’s. Now they were boarding an elevator. Probably the service one so that he would be afforded privacy.
At this point, Roland really didn’t care who saw him or what they said. All that mattered was his father.
Ellen, Dr. Beaumont’s nurse had been the one to call Roland. Dr. Beaumont had been the palace doctor since Roland was born. Ellen’s words had been simple and chilling.
“Your father had a heart attack. He’s being rushed to Sisters now.”
That was all.
But that was enough.
When the elevator doors opened, Roland rushed off with no idea of where he was going. He heard voices but did not stop walking until he felt a hand on his arm.
“We need to go this way, Your Highness.”
Valora had spoken to him quietly while looking directly at him.
“Your father is down here.”
She was guiding him down the hall before Roland could think of what to say. Words were jumbled in his mind at this point. Memories flashed before his eyes like a movie in fast-forward. His father had taught him how to ride a bike. The front driveway of the palace was where he’d climbed on that silver bike and ridden with the assistance of training wheels. Rafe had given him a quick command.
“Balance yourself and pedal,” was all his father had said, and Roland was expected to perform.
That’s how it was with Rafe. He gave an instruction and his children—namely, his sons—were expected to execute it perfectly. There was really no room for any other option.
We love you to pieces.
That had come from his mother about a month before her death. Roland had received a bad report from one of his teachers in the starchy private school he’d been sent to. His father had expressed immediate embarrassment and displeasure, while his mother had tried to quietly encourage Roland to do better. When he’d simply stared up at both of them, his mother had been the first to break, going to her knees to hug him. Over
his mother’s shoulder he could see his father staring down at him. Rafe did not join in Vivienne’s declaration to their son, but he had nodded and winked. Roland had smiled then, and he’d relaxed. For the first time in his life his father had shown some sort of emotion toward him. He’d been elated.
Of course, that memory had had to last Roland up to this point, because there’d never been another occasion for Rafe to wink at his son. There’d been no occasions for the prince to even commend his son on a job well done, because Roland hadn’t done a thing to please his father since. A part of him knew that it was on purpose, another part wanted to ignore all those tangled reasons and just live his life. So he slept with women, left them and gambled. Both pastimes providing just the right amount of distance for him.
Now, as he approached a door with a sign that said Waiting Area, he felt nothing but regret.
“There you are,” Sam said a second after throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him close. “I was so afraid you’d gone off somewhere and wouldn’t make it back here in time.”
Roland hugged his sister, giving an extra squeeze, to which she immediately responded.
“I’m so afraid,” she whispered.
“Don’t be. He’s stronger than all of us, you know that,” Roland said, even though those words weren’t ringing true for him at the moment.
“What happened?” he asked when Sam finally released him.
His sister took his hand then, leading him to one of the uncomfortable-looking chairs. Gary, Sam’s husband and the ex-army captain Kris had hired to overhaul and supervise the palace’s new security system, sat a couple of seats away. Across the room, Kris stood with Landry right beside him. Near the door were two guards. In every corner of the room was another guard. They were everywhere all the time now, and yet his father was still somewhere in this building, possibly dying.
“We were having dinner and he just stopped talking.” Malayka spoke up.
Roland turned around to see that she was sitting close to the window, her legs crossed, trembling fingers near her lips as she shook her head. Her nails were bright red, the ring his father had given her shining in the fluorescent lighting of the room. He didn’t have to wonder why he hadn’t noticed her before now. It was because he didn’t think of her as family.
“I tried to help him but I didn’t know what to do,” she continued. “His face looked so ashen, then he fell out of the chair. Oh, it was horrible.”
She buried her face in her hands after she’d finished speaking, and Roland turned slowly from her to look at his sister again.
“What happened?” he asked, as if he hadn’t heard a word that Malayka said.
“Gary met me at the tourism board meeting after his plane landed. We knew we were running late for dinner and planned to just have something sent to our room. But I wanted to stop in the dining room to speak to Dad to let him know about the board’s forecast for next year. This was just in case I didn’t get a chance to see him before I left for all-day meetings scheduled for tomorrow. He was already on the floor when we came in,” Sam told him.
“His pulse was faint.” Gary picked up with the story. “Sam called for Dr. Beaumont. I called for an ambulance. He’s in the back now.”
“Dr. Beaumont says it may have been a heart attack,” Kris spoke then, his gaze intent on Roland.
“He’s always been healthy,” Roland commented, still unable to believe they were actually at the hospital and all wondering what was going to happen to his father.
“Stress,” Val said softly. “It’s a silent ki... I mean, people often disregard how serious stress can be when it’s not managed properly. I have to imagine that being the prince of an island is a very stressful job.”
All eyes immediately went to her. All except for Roland’s. He knew she was there. He’d felt her standing near him but not speaking, almost as if her presence were enough. He wondered if it was.
In the next moment the door opened and Dr. Beaumont came in. He immediately went to Kris. Gary and Sam quickly moved closer. Malayka was up and moving in before Roland could take a step. She grabbed the doctor’s arm.
“What is it? How is he? When can I see him?” she asked rapidly. “He needs to know that I’m here. No, wait,” Malayka added abruptly. “We shouldn’t speak of the prince while outsiders are in the room.”
Everyone turned then, looking in Roland’s direction, but not at him. They were looking at Valora, he knew, and he didn’t like it.
“I’ll go,” he heard her announce.
“No,” he said, moving quickly to take her hand before she could turn and leave. “She will stay and you can speak freely, Dr. Beaumont. Tell us what happened to my father.”
He was very aware of Kris’s cool gaze in his direction, but Roland ignored it. Instead, he focused on the doctor and on how comforting Valora’s hand felt in his own. While Kris stood with his wife and Sam with her husband, Roland had been acutely aware of the fact that he was standing alone. Not so much of a physical distance from his family, but still alone. The way he always seemed to feel when he was with them. With Valora by his side, some of the pain of feeling like an outsider dissipated.
Dr. Beaumont looked discreetly to Kris, waiting for the crown prince to nod his approval before continuing. Valora squeezed his hand at that moment, and when Roland looked back at her, he knew she was telling him that it was okay. In his father’s absence, Kris was the head of the royal family. That had always been a fact. Today may have been the only time it irritated Roland.
“As I feared when we left the palace, the prince has suffered a heart attack,” Dr. Beaumont began.
Malayka gasped and her fingers once again came to her face, trembling as she batted her eyes wildly. Sam leaned closer into Gary, and Landry put an arm around Kris’s waist, as if to keep him steady.
“Is he alright now?” Sam asked, her voice clear and even, although her eyes had already filled with tears.
“He’s stable,” the doctor continued. “There’s a blockage in one of the arteries leading to his heart. I’ve called for the cardiologist. The moment he arrives, we’ll perform an angioplasty.”
“A what?” Malayka asked, shaking her head as if she just did not understand what was going on.
“It’s a stent,” Landry spoke up. “It will help to open the clogged artery.”
Landry was a stylist, so it wasn’t abnormal for Roland and the others to look at her in wonder for knowing about this medical condition.
Dr. Beaumont gave her a nod of approval and continued to speak. “The procedure will take about an hour. We’ll give him a local anesthetic and have him sedated while we work. Afterward, I expect recovery to be swift, but I would prefer he stay here at the hospital for a few days so that he can be closely monitored.”
“He can be monitored at the palace,” Malayka immediately announced. “He’s the prince. He should not stay here among the commoners.”
“He will stay where he gets the best care,” Roland interjected.
“Yes, Your Highness,” Dr. Beaumont said to Roland. “That is precisely what I am thinking. While I run a state-of-the-art facility back at the palace, there is no operating room or proper testing equipment there. If, which I am not anticipating, your father’s condition should suddenly deteriorate, I feel much more comfortable with him receiving quick and adequate care here at the hospital.”
“Then this is where he will stay,” Kris stated in his official tone. “When can we see him?”
“Not until after the procedure. I want to keep him calm until we have the stent in place and he’s receiving proper medication.”
Malayka’s arms fell to her sides, her fists balled as she stomped one sky-high-heeled foot to the floor.
“That’s nonsense. I’m his wife. I demand to see him now,” she said.
“You’re
not his wife yet,” Sam said quietly.
A chill settled over the already tense room until Kris moved to stand beside Malayka. He looked regal with his shoulders squared and chin raised. Nobody was going to say another word until he spoke, not even the doctor.
“Do what is necessary to get my father back on his feet,” Kris told Dr. Beaumont. “We’ll wait out here until you give the okay. At that time, if you feel my father is up to it, we will visit with him briefly and then we will return to the palace to allow you and your team to do your job. The prince and his health are of the highest priority. No other issues will hinder you from taking care of him.”
The look on Malayka’s face said she was not happy with Kris’s statement. But the way Kris had positioned himself between Malayka and the doctor said he didn’t give a damn.
With a nod, Dr. Beaumont left the room. Gary immediately hugged Sam close to him as she whimpered quietly. Landry looked to Roland briefly, but then went to her husband.
“Let’s sit over here, Kris,” she said to him, but he was already shaking his head.
Kris turned to Malayka. “I can call for your maid to assist you while we wait,” he told her. “But you will wait here, in this room, and you will remain civil. This is emotional for all of us. The less dramatics we have, the better.”
“Dramatics,” she hissed. “Who are you calling dramatic? I have a right to see him, regardless of who was born first.”
“And you will see him,” Kris replied. “But only when the doctor says it is safe. If you love him the way you proclaim, you should want only what’s best for him.”
Malayka looked as if she would burst with unspoken words and rage, but she wisely did not push Kris any further on this subject. Instead, she turned and stalked across the room, dropping down heavily into the seat near the window where she’d been before.
