“I don’t want to run your damn kingdom,” he growled, his brow heavily furrowed over narrowed eyes.
“I never thought you did.” Catherine spun away from him on a sigh. She wasn’t getting through to him. She should never have started this conversation. But she had. And like it or not, she had to finish it. With another heartfelt sigh, she turned back to him. “What have you spent your adult life doing?”
“You know my work.”
She shook her head. “You’ve dedicated your life to research that saves people, that makes this world a better place. You don’t want to rule Ophella, but you won’t be able to back down from a fight if you believe that I’ve made a decision detrimental to our people, a decision you don’t agree with. Your strong convictions of right and wrong would never allow you to step back with a ‘so be it’ attitude.”
“I’ve had to fight for my beliefs before, Catherine, and I don’t win every battle. Trust me, I’ve learnt to deal with it.”
“But has your wife even been your chief opponent? Trust me, it’s very different.”
“I do trust you,” he said angrily. “That’s where we differ. I trust that you’d never make a decision that was so wrong, I couldn’t live with it.”
“The world can’t always be black and white. You’ll approach every argument solely from a humane point of view while I need to approach it as a ruler. There will be a collision and, afterwards, there’ll be nothing left of us to be rescued.”
“I have to disagree.” Nicolas hung his head, taking a minute to regroup and stem his frustrated anger. If he wanted to win this argument, he had to move from the defensive to the offensive. He couldn’t defend himself on some future event that, as far as he was concerned, would never occur. When he looked up again, he attacked with the beginnings of a victory grin. “You should have more faith in yourself, Catherine. I do.”
“I don’t need faith when I’ve lived through the proof.”
“Not with me, you haven’t.”
She threw her hands up in the air. “What do I have to say to make you understand? What do I have to do to make you see the reasons why we have no future?”
His grin deepened. “There’s nothing you can say or do, cucciola.”
“And everyone thinks I’m stubborn?” She nudged her chin at him and stormed off into the tunnel.
Nicolas stayed where he was for a while longer, tearing every one of her arguments to shreds inside his head until he was left with a single question that he would find the answer to.
What do I have to say or do to make you see the reasons as to why we do have a future?
At least he knew exactly where he had to start.
Catherine had been right about one thing. He had a quirky penchant for making the world a better place. And so far as he was concerned, Ophella would be a much better place without Geoffrey Talacon.
6
His first opportunity came later that afternoon when the early winter sunset and sudden drop in temperature chased them from the tunnels. Geoffrey was waiting for them, ready to pounce as soon as they stepped through the door.
“Where have you been?” he asked Catherine. “I’ve been looking for you the entire day and that imbecilic Gascon never knows a thing.”
Gascon knows more than the lot of us put together, Nicolas thought smugly, momentarily willing to give the bodyguard a couple of points so long as they were taken off Geoffrey.
“Um, we were just…” Catherine turned her eyes up at Nicolas, as if he had a lie ready.
Nicolas was happy to oblige. Throwing an arm around her shoulder, he pulled Catherine a little closer and gave Geoffrey a lazy grin. “We took advantage of the sunny day and decided to picnic down by the stream.”
His grin grew as she moved her foot unobtrusively and ground her heel into his toes. Unfortunately, for Catherine, the rubber sole of her trainer was no match for his leather boots.
“That sounds like fun,” Geoffrey said a little uncertainly as he looked from one to the other. “I would have come along.”
Nicolas felt Catherine pulling away and tightened his grip. “But then, we wouldn’t have had nearly as much fun, would we, Catherine?”
Her head shot back just in time to meet his adoring gaze with those flashing blue eyes.
He chuckled softly, then made a show of remembering that Geoffrey was still there and grimaced apologetically. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to monopolise Catherine’s time the entire day. One thing led to another, you know how it goes when there’s sunshine, champagne and that nice little picnic blanket without another soul around for—”
“Nicolas,” Catherine objected lightly, her voice totally at odds with the steel grip she used to push his arm away. She left his side to tuck her hand in Geoffrey’s arm and led him away before Nicolas could do more damage. What was he up to now, anyway?
“What was he talking about?” Geoffrey asked stiffly.
Catherine patted his arm with her free hand and laughed. “I have no idea. We actually went for a walk in the forest and time did sort of run away with us. We started discussing my mother and that led to all the other projects he’s worked on. It’s quite fascinating, really. I never realised that—”
As she’d known he would, Geoffrey quickly lost interest and cut her off. “My father called this morning. He’s concerned about Helene and is thinking of flying in tomorrow.”
“Wonderful,” Catherine exclaimed, genuinely looking forward to a visit from the elder Talacon. “My mother will be delighted. How long will he stay?”
“If I know my father, he’ll stay until he can take some good news back with him.”
Catherine smiled up at him and saw the strain in his light blue eyes. For the first time in ages, she felt positive that they were close to discovering the nature of her mother’s illness and she wanted to share a small part of that with the Talacons. “It may not be that long, then.”
His eyes cleared. “You’re ready to set a date?”
Her smile froze as she slid her hand free from his arm. “I thought we were talking about my mother.”
“Oh, yes, well, that as well, of course. It goes without saying.”
The strain was back, fogging his eyes, and Catherine was immediately unsettled. Why was he pushing so hard all of a sudden? She’d always assumed that once she’d finally made a decision, she’d be the one dragging Geoffrey to the altar in between one or other party. He’d never been adverse to the idea when the subject had been broached ad nauseam by their families, but he’d never dropped onto one knee either.
“I’ve upset you,” he said, frowning.
The observation was actually remarkable for Geoffrey, but she wasn’t in the mood to dole out compliments. “Yes, you have. Please excuse me, I have work to do before supper.”
She hadn’t gone far when he called her back.
“Catherine, I really am sorry about your mother. I know you’ve a lot on your mind right now.” He gave her a goofy grin that at times was quite endearing, although now was not of those times. She shrugged. “I won’t bring up the subject again. When you’re ready, you know I’ll be waiting.”
She nodded, her mind in a turmoil as she watched him disappear into the Billiard room. Geoffrey had his faults, but he wasn’t all bad. She had a plethora of childhood memories that carried much of the weight pushing her in his direction when it came to making a decision, but that was just it. Geoffrey had never grown up and she was no longer sure that she could handle marriage to an adolescent boy.
No, she was sure.
She couldn’t do it.
In theory, Geoffrey was the perfect solution, but she’d been deceiving herself every time she found yet another reason to stall. She’d never intended to go through with it all. She had no intention of ever marrying. Not if she couldn’t have Nicolas.
A moment of absolute panic sucked her lungs dry and she couldn’t draw air. She put a steadying hand to the wall and ordered herself to breathe. In. Out. Rest. In. Out. The t
ightness passed.
It was no wonder she’d deliberately blinded herself to the truth.
The consequences were devastating.
She was deluding herself. She alone could provide the next generation of Ophella rulers. She had to marry. The future of Ophella was her responsibility.
And she had a responsibility to Geoffrey as well.
Grim faced, Catherine put her shoulders back, lifted her chin up high and set a determined course for the Billiard room.
Geoffrey was at the corner bar, splashing brandy into a glass.
“I’ll take one as well,” she said softly, so as not to startle him.
After a quick glance over his shoulder, he pulled a second glass from the overhead rack and poured a single shot. “You’re learning my bad habits.”
She shrugged and returned the grin as she accepted the glass. “It’s well after noon. Besides, we need to talk and I think I’m going to need this.”
His thumbs stroked the crystal tumbler cradled in his hands as he looked at her. “I’m listening.”
Catherine threw back the brandy and waited for the burning sensation to travel down her throat and warm her tummy. Then she set the glass on the counter and faced him. “I can’t marry you, Geoffrey.”
He stared at her a long moment, his mouth slackening, his brow creasing, and then he shook off the shock and placed a hand on her arm. “You’re not thinking straight, darling. Don’t make this decision now. I was wrong to push you.”
“I’m sorry.” She took his hand from her arm and held it in both of hers. “I know this must be sudden and unexpected, but I’m not going to change my mind.”
Slowly, as if a little stunned, he extracted his hand and turned to lean on the bar counter. His head tilted back as he tossed down the contents of his glass. “My father isn’t going to happy about this.”
Catherine moved to take a stool to the left of where he stood. “And what about you?”
His head slanted her way, but he didn’t look her in the eye. “I suppose I’ve always found it a little too incredible, marrying someone as special as you. I know I’m not the most dependable of men, but I do care for you. I always have.” His gaze completed the turn to meet hers. “How do I feel? I feel as if I’ve been waiting for some giant bubble filled with unrealistic dreams to blow up in my face and, now that it finally has, I guess that what I mostly feel is relief.”
“Oh, Geoffrey, I am so— I didn’t realise how much—” The words choked in her throat.
“Don’t, Catherine.” He stretched for the bottle and poured them each another brandy. “Don’t start giving me attributes I don’t deserve.”
He pushed a tumbler into her hands, then clinked it with his own, keeping their glasses touching as he looked on her with a smile. “As much as I wanted you, I wanted everything else that came with you as well. I wanted to be able to boast that I live in a castle and own an entire country. For once, not even my father could have been disappointed in a son who was actually a prince. And can you imagine the look on my brother’s face?” He took back his glass and sipped. “You know me, Catherine, and nothing much has changed. So don’t feel too bad about your decision.”
Having long suspected much of what he said, Catherine was nevertheless grateful for the confirmation. For a moment there…but, no, Geoffrey was more disappointed than heartbroken. Thank God. She’d never wanted to hurt him. “I hope we can still be friends.”
“Have we ever been anything more?” he asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. “Of course we will be. That is, if my father lets me live past tomorrow.”
That uneasy feeling returned. “You make it sound as if your father’s determined to see us married.”
“And your mother isn’t?”
Catherine thought on that for a moment and realised that her mother was more astute, or maybe just more inwardly honest, than herself. She’d stopped hinting long ago. It had been years since she’d last contrived any manner of ploy to get them somewhere alone for a weekend. “She would like it, but I think she’s already resigned herself to the fact that it’ll never happen.”
“I’ll deal with my father,” he said firmly.
Catherine slid to the ground. “Thank you, Geoffrey. You’ve made this easier than it might have been.”
Even though she could not have hoped for a more satisfactory outcome, Catherine’s nerves were worn through and tattered at the edges from the unpleasant task of letting Geoffrey down. She strolled into the hall on heavy legs, feeling so weary, it was an effort to draw breath.
She was just about to head up the stairs, thinking she’d lie down for an hour, when she glimpsed Nicolas returning from outside, the case of samples he’d gone to retrieve in hand.
Her lethargy instantly evaporated, she changed direction to confront him at the door. “Why did you do that to Geoffrey?”
His shoulders lifted in an unconcerned shrug. “We needed an alibi.”
Her brows rose sharply. “And that was the best you could come up with?”
“Maybe not the best, but the most amusing.”
“You deliberately set out to tease him.”
“Um, no, that would be you.” Nicolas closed the distance between them with one long step. “Haven’t you kept him dangling long enough?”
Catherine gasped. “That is none of your business.”
“Release the poor man,” he murmured, bringing his head down low so that his breath scorched her cheek. “Release the man and be done with it. You know you don’t want him.”
She jumped back a pace. “Firstly, Geoffrey is hardly a prisoner. Secondly, I don’t take orders from you.”
“Don’t be so defensive, Catherine.” His dark eyes glittered. “Besides, it wasn’t an order, merely a suggestion.”
But she wasn’t finished. “Thirdly, you have no idea what I want.”
He advanced to take back the ground she’d gained. Her initial instinct was retreat, but at the last second she brought her feet together, folded her arms and glared up at him. “What is this really about? And don’t tell me that you’re suddenly concerned for Geoffrey’s welfare.”
“You want to know what this is about?” His husky tone was warning enough, even before his mouth started its descent. “Why don’t I show you?”
She arched backward and brought her hand up, tipping his jaw aside with her forefinger. When surprise registered in his eyes, she smiled. “That’s right. I might not be totally immune to your kisses, Nicolas, but I can resist if I put my mind to it. Now, I’d like to know what you’re up to, or are you too afraid to come clean?”
Truthfully, she was so frazzled tonight, just about the only thing she wouldn’t resist was a couple of hours of reclusive peace. But Nicolas didn’t need to know that.
“You needn’t blackmail me with the cowardice card.” He stepped back. By the way his gaze lingered, she was left in no doubt that it was to get a better look at her and not an acknowledgment of defeat. “I want you back.”
Her eyes went wide in disbelief. Oh, she knew that he hadn’t accepted her reasons for rejecting him, but Nicolas was not the kind of man to grovel once he’d been flatly denied. Then again, he wasn’t exactly grovelling. He’d made a statement, not a plea, and by the possessive gleam in his eye, he obviously wasn’t suffering from a lack of confidence.
While his persistence cut her to the quick, his arrogance raised her barriers.
“You want me back,” she repeated dully. “If it’s a brief fling you have in mind, I’m not in the market. If it’s something more permanent, again, I’m not in the market. I can’t make myself any clearer than that.”
“You’ve made yourself very clear,” he said.
Her eyes narrowed into his, distrusting his agreeable tone. Then she scowled as his lips lifted up at one end in the beginnings of a grin. “Are you quite sure you understand?”
“I understand you perfectly.” He lifted the case of samples up between them, shrugged his regret, then moved past her. �
�I have work to do.”
As much trouble as she was having with the men in her life today, Catherine knew she shouldn’t have expected any reprieve from Gascon, but the side he chose still ruffled her.
“You’ve finally sent that snivelling snot off for good.” He actually rubbed his hands with glee, which was just not like him. Once he’d finished chuckling, he sobered up to fix a dark look on her. “If Nicolas wants you back, take him before he changes his mind. The man has merit and you know it.”
Catherine shook her head. “Geoffrey handled everything remarkably. Give him a little credit. As for Nicolas!” She stamped a foot beneath her desk in frustration. “That man has no concept of what ‘No’ means.”
“There’s a crater between obtuseness and tenacity and don’t pretend you don’t know what side he’s standing on.”
“Stop defending him.”
“Why? You’ve kicked him down so many times, Nicolas deserves an army at his back.” Gascon grunted his dissatisfaction. “At least you’ve got rid of the other one.”
“Is that why you coerced Geoffrey into this visit?” Catherine hissed, angry at the sudden suspicion of being manipulated. “To pit them against each other and show up Geoffrey’s flaws?”
“Me? Invite Geoffrey here?” Gascon’s voice lifted in incredulity. “You know my feelings for the dumb wit. I thought you’d invited him.”
“No.” Her nails drummed the desk as she thought it over. “Oh, what does it matter anyway? Geoffrey knows he’s always welcome here. The point is, I’m not marrying either of them.”
“You have to marry someone.”
“Maybe not,” she snapped, aware that he was trying to back her into Nicolas’s corner. “Maybe I’ll bring Ophella irrevocably into the twenty-first century and supply an heir through IVF and an anonymous donor.”
Gascon erupted into laughter at the joke.
She didn’t join in.
She’d hit out in irritation, but now that the thought was out there, she warmed to it. Why not? She was destined to be a single mother anyway. It was certainly a better solution than marrying some as yet unknown entity when she knew her heart belonged to Nicolas and always would.
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