The Prince: The Young Royals 1

by S. A. Gordon

  “Maybe not,” her mother had said grudgingly, “but I don’t want my precious girl having her heart broken by some idiot with a roving eye. I don’t care how blue his blood is!”

  Caitlin thought she could hear her mother stomping her foot and she couldn’t help but smile.

  “He’s actually very decent,” Caitlin had protested. “He’s been kind to me.”

  “He’s got you into a mess!” her mother had squawked. “I don’t see why you have to end up in all the newspapers when he’s the one from that family.”

  “Mom …”

  “I won’t stop caring about you just because you’re famous,” her mother had said definitively, and Caitlin couldn’t help but realize that only her mother would think to stop caring because she might be famous—most other people would start caring then.

  As Caitlin sat on the couch with no TV, no books, no magazines—and no NPR—to distract her, she heard her phone ting-ting.

  Finally, David had sent her a message.

  Papa has taken a turn for the worse, it read. Sorry, can’t call at the moment. Will ring as soon as possible. Dx

  The whole time she’d been in London she hadn’t been able to escape the reality of the King’s condition and David’s concern for his father. She knew that the King might get worse. And now that it had happened, she felt like the most hideous person in the world for wondering—just for a moment—what it meant for her and David. In her gut, she didn’t like her prospects of seeing him again soon—if ever. So as she cried, she felt even worse, because she knew she wasn’t crying for the King—for David’s father—but for her own selfish reasons. And maybe that really did make her the worst person in the world.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  After over an hour of lying awake, her brain crowded with useless thoughts that just ran around in circles and got her nowhere, Caitlin had finally fallen asleep. She was in the middle of a dark dream when her cell phone rang, and she pulled herself out of the depths to sprint into the kitchen and answer it. She never kept it in her bedroom, believing that it was probably giving off a signal that would zap her brain cells while she slept, but at times like this she wished it was closer by.

  She had a second to register the blocked number before answering.

  “H-hello?” she said croakily.

  “I’m so sorry to wake you,” came David’s voice—that lovely, modulated voice she now knew so well.

  “It’s …” Caitlin breathed, realizing her heart was racing. “It’s all right.”

  “I needed to hear your voice.” She heard his own voice slip a bit—it didn’t crack, as if he was crying, but it was clear he wasn’t his usual self.

  “What’s happening?” she said.

  He cleared his throat.

  “David? Something’s wrong. I mean, I know something’s wrong—but something worse.”

  “I need you,” he said softly. “Here. With me.”

  She gasped and couldn’t hide it.

  “I need you, Caitlin,” he said and it sounded like pleading. “This … Papa isn’t going to recover. His body is giving up. He’s been trying so hard but he’s just worn out.”

  Caitlin heard him sniff.

  “I need you,” he said again. “I know what’s coming and I know I’ll cope a lot better if you’re here.”

  “I’m so sorry about your father,” Caitlin said, stalling. She wanted nothing more than to go to him, of course, but she was in trouble at work and she was about to have to leave her apartment—all because of being involved with him—and now that he was asking her to return to London, she realized how vulnerable a position she was in. If she went to him, she could be there for a long time. And then what? She’d lose her job for sure. She wouldn’t be able to afford to keep paying for any apartment, let alone this one.

  So she could go to him, be there for however long, and she’d return to a life she’d have to start over again, in a city that rarely gave second chances. New York would move on without her. Within the cold prism of calculation, she could understand why her mother had been worried: there was a chance that she could give everything to David and end up with nothing but memories and paparazzi. She and David loved each other, yes, but their days together had been so desperately present that they hadn’t really talked about the future. It seemed strange now that they hadn’t, but she had honestly believed that their intensity of feeling for each other would just propel them into whatever the future was meant to be. She had believed he felt the same.

  “I don’t know if I can leave again so soon, though,” she said finally, aware she’d kept him waiting. “My work …”

  “Quit your job.”

  “Says the man who can never quit his,” she said quickly, trying to make him laugh, hoping he would.

  She was rewarded with a short chuckle.

  “Indeed,” he said. “I realize this is an incredible imposition, my love, but I just don’t think I can manage without you. Or, rather, I don’t want to manage without you.”

  “Honestly, I don’t want you to have to. But it’s not … Um, can I think about it and call you back? I need to work out logistics—for my job, for the apartment.”

  “I’ll take care of your place.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ll pay the rent on it.”

  Part of Caitlin was relieved to hear that, and then part of her realized the implication: he’d pay the rent on it so she could fly over to be with him and stay for however long, and then she’d be back in New York.

  What did you expect, she heard in her head, a proposal?

  No, she hadn’t expected a proposal. She didn’t even know if she wanted one—she knew how she felt about David but she still wasn’t sure how she felt about his life and everything that went with it. But that also meant she wasn’t sure if she wanted to abandon herself to that life for an indefinite period of time.

  “This is all …” She breathed. “So fast.”

  “I know,” he said, his voice quiet.

  “Do you?” she said, her tone sharper than she’d meant.

  David was silent and Caitlin immediately regretted speaking to him so harshly.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m just … I want to come, David, I do. But I’ve just arrived back here. I have a job. I have a life that I need to get on track.”

  “Aren’t I part of your life?” he said and she thought he sounded like a lost little boy.

  “Yes,” she said. “You are. But I’m just trying to figure things out.”

  “I realize I can’t make you any promises,” David said, sounding slightly desperate. “Not at the moment. I can’t even make myself promises. And I realize that this is a lot to ask of you. Honestly, I do. I have always been aware of how much I’m asking of people when I ask them to help me.”

  “You’re not asking me to help you,” she said flatly.

  “No. I’m asking you to be with me. To come here and be with me.”

  “You’re sure you want that?” she said after a pause.

  “Yes,” he said quickly. “Are you?”

  She swallowed, trying to stall again. This was all she’d thought she wanted, but … what? Why was she hesitating? Because you didn’t want this under these circumstances, she told herself. No, she wanted it untrammeled by other concerns; she wanted him to want her just because he wanted her, not because he needed her to support him.

  Life wasn’t like that, though, she knew. She could hold onto her romantic dreams but they were fantasies that weren’t true for anyone she knew; they were mere stories spun to keep real connections elusive and relationships dissatisfying. David might fit the prototype of the romantic hero but it hadn’t taken long for her to discover that his life was anything but romantic. That didn’t meant that what they shared wasn’t worth something of substance. It didn’t mean that it couldn’t become something of more substance. It didn’t mean that she shouldn’t take a chance. He was taking a chance on her—and possibly a bigger risk than s
he was taking on him. He had more to lose, really. She had her job, yes, but her apartment was as good as gone anyway, and she was young enough to take a risk on her job. It wasn’t like she loved it—it was more the financial security of it that she was worried about losing. And she still had her family and her friends.

  “I’m sure,” she said.

  After that, everything happened quickly.

  *

  “So she’s on a plane right now?” said Alix, looking askance at her brother as she poured them a cup of tea each.

  “Why are you glaring at me?” David said, reaching for his cup.

  “I’m not.”

  “You are.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Is this how we’re going to discuss this?” David flared his nostrils and took his turn to glare.

  “We’re not discussing anything—you’re telling me that you’re flying this girl over here so you can have a bit of company while our lives are falling apart.” Alix pressed her lips together and turned away to place the teapot on the bench behind her.

  “She’s not ‘this girl,’ Alexandra. She’s Caitlin.”

  “I’m Alexandra now, am I? I must be in trouble,” Alix said as she turned back to face him, but her face did not betray whether she was truly annoyed with him or not. “And I know her name, David. But what I don’t know is what you’re doing.”

  David sipped his tea, taking his time. “What do you mean?” he said at last.

  “It’s not like you to do something like this. You keep them at arm’s length. Right when you don’t have time to see anyone, really, you’re basically setting up home with her.”

  “That’s hardly what I’m doing,” David said, his face like thunder.

  “Well, it should be,” Alix said indignantly. “You can’t haul Caitlin out of her life—out of her country—and promise her nothing more than a paparazzi pursuit and a few weeks shut up in KP. It’s not fair to her, David. You should know better.”

  “And what is it, exactly, that you’re offering Jack?” David said, fiery.

  Alix slammed down her teacup. “That’s not the same. Jack knew exactly what my life was like when we got involved.”

  “Well, Caitlin knows what mine is like.”

  “Not in the same way. Jack knew the hard parts as well as the good parts. He’d seen it all. Caitlin has seen a sliver of the bad but mostly it’s been good—and neither of you really knows each other that well.”

  Alix’s sigh sounded frustrated.

  “Look,” she said, “this is not about me not wanting you to have a girlfriend. I do. For one thing, it would mean Maggie and I could stop worrying about you.”

  “Why do you worry about me?” David said, looking perplexed.

  Alix made a noise of exasperation. “Honestly, Day—how can we not worry about you? Ever since Mummy died you’ve been lost. Your heart is just roaming around on the high seas with its anchor all damaged, looking for the safest port possible. You keep pulling into these very pretty places that are not at all the right harbor.”

  “I knew they weren’t the right harbor,” he said, but he looked sad. “Not that I’m not enjoying your analogy.”

  “And I’m enjoying bringing it to you. But you see what I mean.”

  David took a thoughtful sip of his tea. “I didn’t realize you were worried about me. Even though I worry about both of you.”

  “Oh, I don’t worry about Maggie. She can take care of herself. But you and Mummy … we all knew how close you were to her.”

  “We all were.”

  “Not the way you were. Sorry, Day,” Alix said as he opened his mouth to protest. “It’s true. She just loved you more.”

  He looked crestfallen. “She didn’t,” he mumbled.

  “Or maybe you two just had better communication.” Alix shook her head. “Whichever. It doesn’t matter. But I think it means you miss her a lot more than Maggie and I do. We miss her, of course—but you miss her every single day. Don’t you?” she said, her voice softening.

  David’s eyes reddened and he glanced down at the table. “I do,” he said softly. “I really do. But that’s not why I want Caitlin to be here.”

  “Darling,” Alix said kindly, “it is normal to want a relationship because you’re lonely—it doesn’t matter how you got lonely in the first place. We have relationships for all sorts of reasons.”

  Alix looked out the window to her small walled garden. “I need a man who can make me feel safe. That’s for my own reasons.”

  “It’s not that unusual for anyone,” David said and smiled weakly.

  “No, I guess not.” She looked back at him and he saw only love. He realized how much he loved his sisters—how much a part of the fabric of his whole life they were. He didn’t want to do anything to disrupt that, because ultimately they were all going to be bound up with each other for the rest of their lives. But he also needed to make a separate life, and he wanted to have his own family. If not now, then someday.

  “Still,” said Alix, breaking into his thoughts, “you need to be careful with Caitlin. You could ruin her life—not because that’s your intention, but just because you’re not aware of the impact all of this—” she waved her hands around “—could have on someone who isn’t us. We’ve been in the bunker for so long that we forget what it’s like for civilians.”

  David frowned. “What’s with you and your metaphors today?”

  “Oh, shut up.”

  He grinned. “You have to admit, they’ve become a feature.”

  “I admit nothing. But we’d best get to the hospital.”

  David sighed heavily. “Yes, we should. I feel bad even being here while Papa is there.”

  “David,” Alix said firmly, fixing her gaze on him, “he’s dying. And he’s not been conscious for a while. There’s nothing we can do for him. And we just can’t be there all the time. Things need attending to. We have meetings. We have engagements.”

  “Ever the pragmatist,” he said, only slightly cynically.

  “I have to be,” Alix said bluntly. “Sorry, but it’s true. This is not just about our father dying—this is about the country losing one monarch and getting used to a new one. I have to think about that change, David—I have to think about what it’s going to mean for people. Not just for you, me and Margaret. We are but one element.”

  David nodded slowly. “I understand.”

  Alix walked around the table and surprised him by drawing him into a hug. “But we’ll be fine,” she whispered fiercely. “We have each other.”

  “And we have other people too.”

  Pulling back, Alix looked at him. “Yes,” she said. “We do.” She kissed his forehead. “Don’t forget to go to the airport to pick her up.”

  Now it was David who initiated the hug, and he was glad that Alix couldn’t see the tears rolling down his cheeks.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  As soon as David had carried her bag into his bedroom rather than taking them across the courtyard to Margaret’s apartment, Caitlin knew that she was not just there for support or to keep him company during a hard time. She was there because they were together. They were in a relationship. Putting her in his own room—for the household staff so see—was, she knew, a declaration. She felt exhilarated by that, yet she was also confronted by the realities of it. There was to be no honeymoon period—they’d already had it. The situation with his father meant that she had to put aside any excitement about being with David and just be there for him, for whatever he needed.

  “What are you worrying about?” David said, breaking her thoughts.

  “Huh?” She felt slightly dazed as she looked at him.

  “I can tell from the look on your face that you’re worrying. Do you not want to stay in this room?”

  Now she looked at him slowly, intently. “There is no other room I want to be in,” she said, and she felt the truth of it.

  David looked slightly taken aback, and then he squared his shoulders towards h
er. They stood, staring at each other, and she watched as a hunger more powerful than any she’d seen in him before transformed his face. She’d seen desire, of course, but this hunger seemed primal and urgent. More urgent than the time he had taken her into the woods and fucked her three times in an hour. More urgent, certainly, than the first time they had made love.

  Wordlessly, he walked over and closed the door.

  “I want you,” he said as he approached her from the doorway, stopping a few feet away. “You know that already. But you don’t know how often I want you. How often I think of you. How it distracts me when I should be thinking about all sorts of other things—about my work, about my father, about all the things I’m meant to do in any given day. And I haven’t told you before now because you’re so often in my head that I tend to think I’ve been speaking to you all day. It isn’t until the time is not right to call you that I remember that I actually haven’t spoken to you.”

  He moved closer to her.

  “But I’m speaking to you now. I’m telling you, now, that I want you and I love you. I will always love you, Caitlin.”

  She breathed in and held the air inside her. She looked at him—at the magnificence of him, with his athletic frame and his regal bearing, the lines of his jaw and the curve of his forehead, at the essential masculinity of him—and she wanted him too.

  She breathed out and felt everything inside her uncoiling. All the worry about what would happen when she got here dissolved. All the useless concern about whether or not she’d done the right thing just didn’t exist anymore. There was him, standing before her. There was her, standing before him. She felt her breathing quicken and she watched his do the same.

  Caitlin closed the short distance between them, taking one hand to the back of his head and placing the other on his hip, pulling his face to hers, kissing him—quickly at first, short kisses to match the pace of her heartbeat. Then they pressed their bodies together and their kisses grew longer and deeper. Caitlin hardly knew where his hands were on her or hers on him—she was just aware of them touching each other, of the heat of their bodies combining as David moved them toward the bed.