The Millionaire's Royal Rescue
Page 11
“I...I’m sorry if you got the wrong idea,” he stammered. His heart was pounding so hard now that it was echoing in his ears.
“I didn’t.” She glanced away and started straightening up the papers. “It was just a slip of the tongue. Honest.”
He wanted to believe her, but he recalled the intensity of their kiss. And it sure wasn’t just him who had been into it. She’d been a driving force that had kicked up the flames of desire.
Perhaps it was time to straighten a few things out between them. He certainly didn’t want her to get the wrong idea and end up getting hurt.
“Annabelle, we need to talk.”
“About the note?”
He shook his head. The hopeful look on her face fell and he knew that he was on dangerous ground. One wrong word or look and things would go downhill quickly.
“Listen, Annabelle, I think I gave you the wrong impression.” Boy, this was harder than he’d thought it would be. And with her staring right at him, he struggled to find the right words. “I didn’t mean to imply with that kiss that there could be anything between us. I...I just got caught up in the moment.”
Her gaze narrowed in on him and he prepared himself for her wrath. He was certain that someone as beautiful, fun and engaging as her was not used to being rejected—not that he was rejecting her. He was just letting her know that he wasn’t emotionally available. And he didn’t know if he ever would be.
Annabelle got to her feet. “I didn’t think that this,” she waved her hand at the couch, “was a prelude to marriage. I may be a bit sheltered thanks to my father and my uncle, but even I am not naive. Or perhaps that’s what you’re worried about, my father and uncle forcing you to marry me.” Her eyes grew dark and the room grew distinctly chilly. “Trust me. That would not happen. I wouldn’t allow it. And I’m sorry you think so little of me.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
She turned her back to him and began gathering all of the papers. Oh, boy, had he made a mess of things. Where had the smiling and laughing Annabelle gone? And how did he get her back?
He jammed his fingers through his hair. “Annabelle, that isn’t what I meant. It’s just that, well, I’m not ready for anything serious. And I didn’t want you to get the wrong impression. I like you, but that’s all it can ever be.”
With all of her papers and pens gathered, she straightened. Her guarded gaze met his. “Thank you for sorting it out. I’ll make sure that nothing like that ever happens again. And now, I’m going to bed. Alone.”
When she started toward the door, he called out, “But what about the note?”
She paused and for a moment he wasn’t sure she was going to say anything, but then she turned back to him. “That’s not your problem. I appreciate what you’ve done. But I won’t be needing your assistance going forward.”
“Annabelle, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
She turned and marched out the door.
Great! Could he have made more of a mess of things?
Frustration balled up in his gut. He felt like throwing something. He’d never felt this sort of overwhelming sense of failure. He’d meant to protect Annabelle and instead he’d done the exact opposite.
Energy built up in his body and he needed to expunge it. But when he glanced around, he knew this was not the place to take out his emotions. This palace was more exotic than any museum he’d ever visited. He might be rich, but he’d be willing to guess that most of the pieces in this room were priceless. He needed to get out of here.
He headed for the door. There was no way he’d be able to go to sleep anytime soon. He was wide awake and he had a decision to make: cut his losses and leave Mirraccino as soon as possible or stay and try to make this up to Annabelle.
Deciding to burn off some of his pent-up energy, he headed for the beach. The sand was highlighted by moonlight, but he barely noticed the beauty of the evening. His thoughts were solely on Annabelle.
He started walking aimlessly. He had to work all of the frustration out of his system so that he could think clearly. He didn’t know how far he’d walked when he finally stopped.
He’d known the truth before he’d even set off on this stroll—he wasn’t going anywhere. At least not yet. He had too much to wrap up here, from testifying over the purse snatching to judging at the festival. But he knew those were just excuses. He wanted to stay and make things right with Annabelle. At this point, he had to wonder if that was even possible.
By the time Grayson returned to his suite, his body was exhausted. After a cool shower, he stretched out on the king-size bed. He closed his eyes, but all he saw was Annabelle’s face with that hurt expression that sliced right through him. He tossed and turned, but he couldn’t find any solace or drift off to sleep.
He turned on the bedside light and reached for his phone. Annabelle may have taken all of the paper copies of the note with her, but she’d forgotten that he still had a photo of it on his phone. He pulled it up and stared at it for a moment.
For being a genius, he sure hadn’t displayed much intelligence when it came to revealing the secrets of this note. What was up with that? He was usually very good at this type of thing. And then the answer came to him. He hadn’t wanted to solve the mystery of the note. He liked having an excuse to spend time with Annabelle.
But now that he’d gone and ruined all of that, there was no reason for him not to finish it. Perhaps it could be some sort of peace offering. After all, he wanted Annabelle to find the truth about her mother. He just hoped it would bring her the answers she craved.
He stared at the message. He believed the key to solving it was more obvious than he’d first surmised.
He read it again. Tea is my Gold.
Could that mean T equaled G?
Grayson retrieved his computer and set to work setting up a spreadsheet to imitate a cipher wheel. In the end, he determined that the capital letters and misspellings were red herrings.
He set the cipher wheel with T equals G. The other sentence in the message referenced the first and forth. After trial and error, he decided that it was referring to the first letter in the first and fourth words.
In the end, he ended up with: SUNDIAL. FIVE. TWO.
Grayson went over the message again and again. It always came back to the same thing. He stared at the message. That had to be right.
What were the chances that he’d got it wrong and the words were so clear?
None. This was it.
He was holding the answer that Annabelle had been seeking. But where was this sundial? And what would they find when they got there?
He wanted to go wake her up, but he didn’t dare. She’d been so upset with him earlier that perhaps some sleep would improve her mood.
In the meantime, he searched on the internet for a sundial in Mirraccino, but he couldn’t find any. That was odd. Was it possible this mysterious sundial was on another island? Or in a different country?
He yawned. At last, he was winding down. He glanced at the time on his laptop. It was well past two in the morning. If he didn’t get some sleep, he’d turn into a big grumpy pumpkin come sunup.
* * *
Talk about overreacting.
Annabelle made her way to the village for today’s baked goods competition. She’d delivered her entry early that morning and returned to the palace to finish some work on another of the South Shore revitalization projects.
The truth was that she hadn’t slept much the night before. Once she’d calmed down and gotten over the sting of Grayson’s rejection, she’d realized that she could have taken his words better. A lot better.
Did she really have to storm out of the room? Heat rushed to her face. He was honest with her and that’s what she’d wanted. She just hadn’t expected him to turn away her kisses.
Was she that bad at it?
The thought dug at her. Or was there something wrong with him? After all, what did she really know about him? That he lived in California. That he was rich. And that he was estranged from his family. In the grand scheme of things, that wasn’t a whole lot of information. Perhaps she’d been saved from an even bigger hurt. She clung to that last thought, hoping it would ease the pain in her chest.
She approached the tent where her triple chocolate cake was to be judged. It was then she realized that she’d forgotten to notify the festival officials that Grayson wouldn’t be judging. She was certain after the scene last night that he wouldn’t waste any time leaving Mirraccino.
And the fate of the South Shore? Her stomach clenched. She hated the thought of letting down her cousin, the king and the students at the university. Everyone was very enthusiastic about the trendy café.
She would reach out to Grayson after the judging and see if he would still consider taking part in the South Shore. If need be, she’d extricate herself from the project. That would make it simpler for everyone and hopefully give him less reason to take his business elsewhere.
Annabelle stepped into the white-tented area and stopped. Her gaze searched for one of the officials. At last she spotted Mr. Caruso.
She made her way over to him. He’d just finished speaking with someone and turned to her. “Good morning, Lady Annabelle. The festival is going along splendidly. I was so happy to learn that you’re taking part in it this year. As a representative of the royal family, it really helps relations with the citizens.”
“And I was very happy to take part. I had a lot of fun.” Her thoughts momentarily strayed to Grayson. It wouldn’t have been nearly as fun without him.
“I hope you’ll be taking part in the community dinner as well as the masquerade ball.”
“I’ll definitely be here for the dinner. I wouldn’t miss it.” Without Grayson around, it didn’t sound nearly as inviting, but she would not let the people down. “As for the ball, I don’t think I’ll be able to attend.”
“That’s a real shame, but we’re really pleased to have you here for the rest of it.”
She forced a smile that she just didn’t feel at the moment. This was the moment when she needed to admit that Grayson would no longer be around and there was no one to blame for that but herself. She’d driven him away.
She laced her fingers together to keep from fidgeting. “There is something I need to tell you. I’m sorry that it’s last-minute, but Mr. La—”
“Is right here.”
The sound of Grayson’s voice made her heart skip a beat. She spun around to find him standing a few feet away. The expression on his face was blank. To say she was surprised by his appearance was an understatement. She thought for sure that he’d already be jetting off for Italy.
Regardless of why he’d stayed, she was happy to see him. Very happy.
But just as quickly, she realized that his presence probably had more to do with the South Shore Project and less to do with whatever was going on between them. That thought dampened her enthusiasm a bit.
Annabelle swallowed hard. “Grayson, what are you doing here?”
His brows drew together. “Did you forget? I’m one of the judges for today’s contests.”
“Oh. Of course.”
Mr. Caruso spoke up. “And we’re very happy to have you. Trust me, judging today is definitely a treat.” The older man turned back to Annabelle. “What did you start to tell me?”
“Oh, it’s nothing. Nothing at all.”
She walked away, letting Grayson and Mr. Caruso talk about what was expected of him during today’s baking competition. She couldn’t deny that she was happy to see him. But what did this mean? Did he regret rejecting her?
And if he did, could she trust him not to hurt her again?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“ANNABELLE! ANNABELLE, WAIT UP!”
Grayson had excused himself, telling Mr. Caruso that he’d forgotten to relay a message to Annabelle and that he’d be right back. It wasn’t exactly the truth, but it wasn’t exactly a lie. He did have something that he had to tell Annabelle, but he hadn’t forgotten. He just didn’t want to make a scene in front of the man. There was enough gossip going around about them already.
Was she walking unusually fast? Or was he just imagining it? He picked up his pace. He wasn’t going to let this awkwardness between them drag on.
“Annabelle.” Foot by foot, he was gaining ground on her. When at last he was just behind her, he said, “You can keep going, but just so you know, I’ll keep following you.”
With an audible sigh, she stopped and turned to him. “Grayson, what are you doing here? I thought we said everything last night.”
“Annabelle, I want to apologize.”
She shook her head. “Don’t. You were honest.”
“But there was more I should have said.” When her eyes lit up just a little, he knew he had her attention. “I overreacted last night and didn’t handle things well. I...I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“It’s for the best.” There was a resigned tone to her voice.
“Really?” Surely he hadn’t heard her correctly. “You’re fine with ending things?”
“Yes. After all, it’s not like there was anything serious between us.” Her voice was hollow and lacked any emotion. “You made perfect sense.”
He made sense? He wasn’t sure how to take that.
Her gaze didn’t quite meet his. “And don’t feel obligated to judge the baking competition. I can make your excuses.”
“You aren’t getting rid of me that easily.” He smiled at her, but she didn’t smile back. “I’m looking forward to this.”
“I just don’t want you to do it out of obligation.”
“I’m not—”
“And I hope this won’t affect the South Shore deal.”
“Business is business. I’m expecting to hear from the board today or tomorrow.”
“Good. Now I have to go.” She turned and walked away with her head held high and her shoulders rigid.
He blew out a frustrated breath. He’d really messed things up. He stood there watching her retreating form. She’d said all of the right things and yet he didn’t believe a word of it.
He might not be in a place for a relationship, but that didn’t mean he was okay with hurting Annabelle. He felt awful for his outburst the prior evening. There had to be a way to make it up to her. He wanted to make her smile again. But how?
He thought about the problem for a moment. And then he latched on to the heritage festival. Annabelle had been so excited about it. He thought about the baking contest today. It’d be great if she won, but he didn’t know what she’d baked and he wasn’t one for cheating. If she won, it had to be on her own merits. That was the only way it would mean anything.
No, there had to be something else. He pondered it some more as he walked over to the tent to get his judging paperwork. He was almost there when the idea hit him. A little payback for Annabelle signing him up for all of these activities. He would now sign her up for an event.
* * *
Second place.
Annabelle shook hands with so many people congratulating her on her accomplishment. She knew that it was foolish and petty, but she’d been hoping to take first place. She wanted to show Grayson what he was passing up by brushing her off.
She gave herself a mental jerk. Since when did she worry so much over what a man thought about her? There had been no one else in her life who had ever affected her so greatly. It was best that he would be leaving soon. She needed to think clearly because she still had a note to decipher. She wasn’t giving up...even if Grayson would no longer be helping her.
Having spent a few hours at the festival, and with
the baking competition over, it was time she left. She didn’t want to have to force a smile on her face any longer. She needed some alone time.
With Berto following close behind, Annabelle was almost to the palace when Grayson came rushing up from behind. His sudden appearance startled her. “Grayson, whatever it is, it’ll have to wait.”
“Hey, is that how it’s going to be from now on?”
She kept walking. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do. You’ve said all of the right things, but you don’t mean any of them.”
She stopped and glared at him. “Grayson, what do you want from me? You said there shouldn’t be anything between us. I said I was fine with that. And now you’re upset because I’m trying to maintain some distance between us. You can’t have it both ways.”
He frowned as he considered her words. “Would it help if I admitted that I’m confused—that you confuse me?”
“No. It wouldn’t.” She started walking again. The palace was in sight. Just a little farther.
He reached out, touching her arm. “Annabelle, don’t run away.”
That stopped her in her tracks. She did not run from anything or anyone. She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. She turned to him. “What do you want from me?”
“Nothing.”
That was not the response she was expecting. “Then why are you here?”
“It’s what I can do for you. I figured out the cipher.”
“You did? It really is a cipher?” The longer it’d taken them to crack the code, the more her doubts had mounted.
He smiled and nodded. “I figured it out last night.”
“You did?”
“I couldn’t sleep, so I worked on it.”
He hadn’t been able to sleep last night. The thought skidded through her mind, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it. She had to know about the note. “And what did it say?”
“That’s the thing. It didn’t mean anything to me. I hope it makes sense to you.”