The Crown Prince's Bride

by Donna Alward

“A baby.” He let out a huge breath. “Did you have a feeling? Ask for the test?” He frowned. “Miss your period?”

  She shook her head. “He did a test for my checkup. Routine, apparently. I can’t go to Tanzania now. My shots aren’t up-to-date and it’s too risky to go without and not safe for me to have a few of them while expecting.”

  “I’m sorry,” he offered, surprising her.

  “You are?”

  “I know that you were looking forward to it. It wasn’t planned under the best circumstances, but it was going to be a new adventure for you.”

  “Well, it looks like I have an adventure of a different sort coming in the future.”

  They sat in silence for a bit, then Raoul nudged forward. “You know, Steph, I keep thinking about the things you said when we talked. About me avoiding making a decision about us. I was a coward, and I know it. It’s not like me to run away from my problems. I make decisions. It’s what I do.”

  “I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

  “You deserve someone who’s going to be decisive. Someone who is going to follow through. Now we’re going to have a baby together, and it’s not the time to be ambivalent about anything. It’s a responsibility we’ll bear together.”

  Unease rippled through her veins. “What are you saying, Raoul?”

  “I’m saying I think we should get married.”

  She nearly fell off the settee. What once would have filled her with joy now filled her with a mix of sadness and frustration. For years she’d daydreamed about Raoul popping the question, but there’d been no question here, just a statement, and only because she was carrying his baby.

  It was wrong, all wrong.

  “No,” she heard herself say.

  “We can do it quietly; no one will think it terribly odd if my second marriage is a smaller, private affair.”

  “No,” she repeated. “Raoul, did you hear me?”

  “And if you’re only a few weeks along, the sooner the better. Even if there’s speculation, we can simply say we’d planned it for a while but didn’t want to overshadow Rose and Diego’s big day.”

  He stood now, started pacing. “But first we’ll have to tell father. And Diego. You can move into my suite.”

  She stood, too. “Stop talking. Just stop.”

  He halted. “What?”

  “Raoul, I said no. I will not marry you.”

  He laughed. “Of course you will. I know things have been screwed up, but we both need to let our pride go. It’s the right thing.”

  She clenched her teeth to keep from crying. “Raoul, for a smart guy, you can really be very stupid. I don’t want to do the right thing, don’t you see? I want . . . I want . . .”

  He stepped forward so that they were face to face. “What do you want? Because I’m really trying here. My God, Stephani. I’m willing to make you a queen.”

  The tears she’d held back started to choke her. “You’re a bastard,” she cried out, unable to keep her cool any longer. “Willing to make me a queen? Did you just say that? Why are you not the man I thought you were? Why aren’t you the man who—”

  She stopped. The words sat on her tongue, so thick she was choking on them. Raoul’s brows had pulled together, his cheeks red with . . . anger? Was he angry at her?

  “The man who what?” he bit out.

  “The man Ceci loved!”

  She turned away then, ashamed. She had never truly coveted what Ceci had. Or if she had, she hadn’t ever wanted to take it away from Ceci to have for herself. It wasn’t like that. But what she’d wanted was to have him look at her the way he’d looked at Ceci once upon a time. She didn’t want to be a replacement. She wanted to be loved for herself.

  “What do you mean?” he asked, his voice dangerously low.

  She took a breath. Turned back around.

  “You said you weren’t ready. I accepted that. And I don’t know all the details about your relationship with my cousin, but from what I saw, you always treated her with respect, and love, and affection. Tonight you offered me your kingdom but you didn’t offer yourself, Raoul. That’s not respectful, loving, or affectionate. I’m not a replacement for her. I’m my own person, and I deserve to have someone love me the way you loved her. You didn’t even ask. You just informed me we’d be married, that the wedding would be some slapped-together private affair, and the sooner we did it, the sooner we could make the world think that this baby was conceived after the wedding.”

  Her voice shook but she was determined. “In all the years I’ve been here, Raoul, until tonight you have never made me feel cheap. But I do. I’m a problem to be solved, and I’m telling you right now, I won’t have it. I’ll have all of you or nothing. I can’t spend my life trying to live up to what she was to you.”

  She lowered her shoulders, surprised at herself for delivering such a speech, glad she’d done it, terrified of the result.

  He ran his hand through his hair. “You don’t know what you’re asking!”

  “I know exactly what I’m asking. And you being so freaked out gives me my answer. So here’s my counter offer.” Her stomach turned and she willed the nausea away. “I’m going to inform Diego about the change of plans. I’m going to work with Sofia to bring in the new assistant. Then I’m going to take some time off and enjoy my pregnancy.”

  “That’s not an offer. That’s a statement.”

  “It’s as much of an offer as you made to me, Raoul. And just about as emotional.”

  He spun away. “Dammit, Stephani.” He put his hand on the back of a chair, clenching it tightly. “You want all of me. I don’t have all of me to give. Not anymore.”

  Her throat tightened. “I know that now. I do, Raoul. That’s what I’m saying. You told me the truth about your feelings and I’ve accepted it. So let me tell Diego about the change of plans. And everything else we’ll do one day at a time.”

  She put a hand to her stomach, seriously afraid she was going to throw up now, needing to get out and get some fresh air. When Raoul didn’t answer, she turned on her heel and left the library, then headed to the back of the castle where her car was parked.

  Marco was there, closing up the garage for the night. He took one look at her and came over, his dark eyes concerned.

  “Stephani. Are you all right?”

  She shook her head. “Yes and no. I need a moment.”

  “Do you need me to drive you home?”

  She shook her head once more. “No, I . . .”

  The sickness became overwhelming and she rushed to a hedge and threw up.

  Marco was there by her side, holding out a handkerchief. “Wipe your mouth. It’ll help get the taste out.”

  She took the square of fabric and did what he said. His big hand was on her back, anchoring her as she gulped in big breaths.

  When she was better, she stood up straight. “I’m so sorry.”

  He watched her carefully. “Ceci wasn’t often sick with the babies, but if she got worked up . . .” He leaned down a bit to look straight into her face. “I’m guessing you’re in the same situation.”

  “That’s a pretty big leap, Marco.”

  “I have sisters. Four of them.” He smiled a little. “I’m sorry, Stephani. It’s complicated, isn’t it?”

  She nodded. “Incredibly. He’ll ‘do the right thing’ by me, but he doesn’t love me, Marco. And I don’t think I can marry someone who doesn’t love me. Or who will always love someone else better.”

  He gestured with a hand, motioning toward the garage. “Come with me for a moment. I want to tell you a story.”

  He led her inside and to a desk area. She’d never been inside Marco’s personal “office,” and it was plain but comfortable with a desk, computer, filing cabinet, and not much else. She sat in a sturdy chair and he grabbed a rolling stool and perched on it.

  “I was driving the night of the accident,” he said softly, regret hanging on his words. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wondered what I m
ight have done differently. If I’d taken a different route, or gone slower, left a few minutes later . . . Ceci would still be here. Mariana, too. And the children . . . they were so scared. It was the worst night of my life, but it’s nothing compared to the pain Raoul felt.

  “I know you saw him after. We all watched him go from shock to grief to . . . well, months of going through the motions. He made a big show of having a stiff upper lip. Not that he fooled anyone, but did you ever see him cry?”

  Stephani shook her head. Not once. She’d known he was holding it all inside, but he’d never broken down in front of her.

  “I did,” Marco said, his voice hoarse. “When he came to the hospital, and she was gone, and I was alive. And he hugged me and cried, Stephani. Sobbed like a baby on my shoulder and said he didn’t want to live if he had to live without her.”

  The pain in her heart was real, and stabbed at her like knives. “I know he loved her, Marco. I can’t compete with that.”

  He shook his head. “See, that’s where I think you might be wrong.” She opened her mouth to protest, but he held up a hand. “Hear me out. The thing is, I’ve known Raoul for a long time. Longer than you, actually, and when he falls in love, he goes all in. Then he lost her in the blink of an eye. No chance to say goodbye, no nothing. Just a phone call saying his world had collapsed. Tell me, how eager would you be to love like that again, knowing how it feels to lose that one person who was everything?”

  She sat silently, unsure of what to say.

  “Stephani, I watched the two of you in France. What you have is real, but he’s scared to let himself care too much. It’s not that he can’t. Or that he doesn’t. It’s that he won’t let himself. I’m not saying you should marry him for the baby. But I guess I’m saying, don’t give up.”

  “I can’t hold on to an impossible dream forever, Marco.”

  “Then maybe just take a breath and let things unfold over the next few weeks or months. He’ll figure it out.”

  “And if he doesn’t?”

  He smiled. “My eldest sister runs a design business right here in Marazur. She’s stubborn and also brilliant. Having a partner to run the administration would be perfect, and I have leverage.”

  She laughed then. This really was home, both the Navarro family and the people who worked here. “Thank you, Marco. I needed the chat to get out of my own head a bit.”

  He stood up and held out his hand, helping her rise. “You’re welcome. I care about both of you, you know. I think you would make him very happy, and you’d make a wonderful queen, too.”

  He walked her to her car and she made the drive home in the dark, thinking about what Marco had said. Maybe Raoul really did love her. Maybe it wasn’t that he wasn’t ready, but that he was afraid to lose again.

  But until he could admit it, she was no further ahead than before.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Raoul met Diego up on the battlements, as per his brother’s request. He had a feeling he knew what the conversation was going to be about, and also why Diego had chosen it. Every single time Raoul had given Diego a lecture on behavior and responsibility, he’d taken him to the top of the castle where they could survey all of the royal grounds, and much of the surrounding island.

  That he and Diego had seemed to have switched places was disturbing.

  Diego was waiting, his hands resting on the stone wall and the wind ruffling his hair and he looked south toward the ocean. When Raoul approached, his shoes clacking on the rooftop, Diego turned.

  His brother looked happy, and grown up. It made Raoul proud, and also, for the first time, a little out of his depth with his brother.

  “I’m glad you came,” Diego said, holding out a hand. Raoul shook it, felt a reassuring connection there. Diego had become a man he was comfortable with, and he was glad of it.

  “I figured you’d want to talk after you met with Steph. She told you everything?”

  “Congratulations,” Diego offered dryly.

  Raoul pulled his hand away and went to the wall as well, needing to feel the wind and sun on his face. “I’ve messed things up in a big way. And I’m sorry about your project.”

  “Don’t worry about that. Brenna’s still keeping things going and she’s going to look at hiring. I’m more worried about you.”

  “Don’t worry about me. Worry about Steph.”

  Diego sent him a sideways glance. “Steph has her shit together. You don’t.”

  Raoul bristled, said nothing. The lecture was starting, it seemed.

  “Stephani will have this baby with or without your help.”

  “She knows I’ll help her. Mierda, Diego, I would never shirk my responsibility.”

  “She doesn’t want your responsibility, brother. You’re always responsible. You take care of things and she knows you’ll make sure neither she nor her baby want for anything. Except your love.”

  Raoul turned sharply to look at Diego, only to find his brother watching him with a mild look in his eyes.

  “I offered to marry her.”

  “Begging your pardon, and correct me if I’m wrong, but you offered to minimize the scandal with a slapped-together wedding.”

  Raoul rubbed a hand over his face. “For God’s sake, it’s not that simple.”

  “But it is,” Diego replied. “Do you love her?”

  “Again, not so simple.”

  “And again, that’s bollocks.”

  “You’ve been spending too much time with your British friends.”

  Diego laughed. “Actually, that’s too much time with my British wife, and there’s no such thing, because I adore her beyond reason.”

  Raoul’s heart thumped. “I know you do.”

  “That’s right. Because you loved Ceci that way.”

  “Ceci’s gone.”

  “Yes, she is, hermano. And you’re alive. And you have a woman who loves you, who is carrying your child, and you are too afraid to love her back.”

  Raoul’s insides trembled.

  “I’m not ready,” he answered, his voice barely a whisper above the breeze.

  “No one is ever ready. It just happens. And either you reach out and grab it or you mess it up and regret it for the rest of your life. Steph doesn’t care about a crown or a palace or any of the things you offered her. She wants you, and just you. She wants you to look at her and say you love her, and to mean it. She wants you to make her feel like she matters, more than any crown or royal duty. She’s looking for a partner, Raoul, and you have to prove yourself worthy of her love. Because make no mistake, that woman loves you. She loves you for the man you were and the man you still are, in here.” He thumped a hand on Raoul’s chest. “But you can’t have her and protect your heart at the same time.”

  “I’m scared,” Raoul admitted finally, letting out a long, shaky breath. “I never want to go through something like that again. And the children . . . how do I tell them I’m going to love someone else? Max has nightmares still. Emilia clings to the memories she has left.”

  “You stop doing what you did to me.”

  Raoul looked up sharply. “What do you mean?”

  “You stop trying to shelter them from anything bad, or try to make everything right for them. You did that after mama died and I felt utterly useless. You grab at life, and you live it. And you teach them to live it, and you teach them that you embrace the love and embrace the fear because locking your heart up in a box for safekeeping is no way of living at all.”

  Tears formed in Raoul’s eyes and he blinked them away. Sniffed, blinked again. Diego was right. It killed him to admit it. He’d always tried to do everything right, he realized. “After mama died, I tried to be perfect,” Raoul said. He looked out over the palace grounds, so expansive that he couldn’t see where they ended and public land began. Beyond was the capital; inland was another city teeming with people who depended on the Navarros and their government. “I tried to be the best son and brother to spare you and Papa. And then I met Ceci, and
I didn’t have to try so hard. I never wanted you to feel the pain I felt. And when Ceci died, the pain was back and I swore I’d never do it again.”

  “I know. And it’s not wrong, Raoul. It’s just that you have to choose which life you want, and live with the consequences. Unless you’re willing to open your heart again, you’re going to lose her forever.” Diego put his hand on Raoul’s shoulder.

  He walked away, leaving Raoul alone on the ramparts to think things through.

  * * *

  Stephani didn’t take much from her desk. There were her special pens, and she was keeping her laptop, so she could work from home if either Sofia or the new assistant, Marcella, needed help. But today was her last day working full time at the palace. She was going to go home, take a week or two’s vacation, and then take it from there. She was planning on spending a little time in Corfu. With all the upheaval lately, the idea of going to her childhood home held a wistful appeal.

  She packed the pictures off her desk—ones of Emilia and Max, another of her with Ceci on her cousin’s and Raoul’s wedding day. She touched the glass with a finger and felt tears well up in her eyes. “I tried,” she murmured, her voice catching. “I’m sorry.”

  She sniffed, put the photo in the box, and folded over the flaps.

  Then, with a heavy weight in her stomach, she went to Raoul’s door and knocked.

  “Come in.”

  She opened the door and stepped inside. “I just wanted to let you know . . . I’m going now.”

  His gaze held hers for a long moment. Then he held out a hand, motioning to a chair. “Please, sit for a minute.”

  She did, wanting to leave, wanting to prolong the moment at the same time. Today felt very, very final.

  “We’ve been through a lot in this office,” he said quietly. “And you have always, always been an asset to this monarchy and to Marazur.”

  “Thank you, Raoul.”

  “Don’t thank me for that. Please, don’t. Because while it’s true, I’ve done you such a disservice, Steph. And I am so, so sorry that I hurt you.”

  She put her hand to her abdomen without thinking. Their child rested there. She was eight weeks along now, not showing, but feeling a change inside her, nonetheless.