by Ella Brooke
How long could he keep her by his side? They hadn’t spoken any more about her leaving, but the reality was that he would be back on set in a few weeks. He wasn’t sure how to get her to stay and wait for him, and if she went home, she might second guess this entire thing they had together and not come back. He needed something to intervene. He had already offered her a permanent spot in the royal family, and she had turned him down.
The only people on the beach were a mile or more away. Emrys pulled Caitlyn to his side and looked into her eyes. She smiled, the breeze lifting her hair slightly and billowing the hem of her dress, and squeezed his hands in her own. Their lips met and her hands moved up his back and held onto him tightly. He wrapped his arm around her and took her to the edge of the water. She sat, digging her toes into the wet sand and letting the cool water wash over her feet.
It was an excellent day to just exist.
But the next day proved otherwise. Caitlyn got a call from her friend Melinda, who had taken a picture of a tabloid on the stands in America, and by the time Emrys had gotten out of the shower, Caitlyn had found the article online and read the whole of it: “Who’s that GIRL? Fiancée Furious with Her Playboy Prince!”
They’d gotten so many things wrong. For starters, the pictures that the tabloid had taken of them together on the beach were labeled as the Playboy Prince and his Mystery Girl. Her face was away from the camera, true, but there had been no reason to assume that Emrys was cheating on his fiancée. But assume they did, and the single article multiplied over the course of the day; each new one delighted in recounting Emrys’s more public affairs of the past five years and before. One magazine had even dug up a picture of Caitlyn from France and commented that she was a part of Emrys’s chubby-chaser phase.
This paucity of journalistic ethics didn’t faze Emrys, but Caitlyn was new to being the target of such tactics, and even though he’d asked her to avoid reading any of them, she seemed to encounter a new one every hour. They were all over Facebook, too, it seemed. Eventually, she gave him her phone and locked herself in the bathroom, sobbing.
“Cait, this is ridiculous. They’re reporting my cheating on you with you!” He sat by the door and laid his head against the wall. “The rest of it—I wasn’t with you then. Many of them I dated to force myself to get over you, and Miranda didn’t mind because she didn’t want to marry me in the first place.”
He leaned his head against the door and listened intently. Her breathing was still shaky, and she didn’t answer him.
“Please be calm, love. Don’t let them spoil our time together. All they want is to sell stories.”
Emrys folded his hands between his knees and stared at them. This could not have come at a worse time. He’d been hoping to cement her affections for him over the course of this trip, and it had been working until now. The last thing he needed was for every news outlet in existence to rub Caitlyn’s nose in his bad behavior.
“My heart broke when I had to leave you,” he said quietly. “I have never made apologies for how I chose to tape it back together, but I would never want you to have to suffer the consequences of my actions. I’m sorry these people are forcing you to dwell on things that are over. Completely over, I promise. Not one of these women has ever meant anything to me.”
Emrys rubbed his hand over his mouth. He was thinking of leaving her alone to deal with this, when she spoke, her voice thick with tears:
“I know this isn’t your fault.”
“I’m still sorry you’re hurting over this.”
Caitlyn began sobbing again. Emrys set her phone on the table.
“Love, I’m going to that bar from last night for a drink, so you can be alone. If you want to talk to me, just call or text and I’ll be here. I think I’m not helping you at all just sitting out here, reminding you of the stupid prince who has let you down once again.”
He stood, hesitated only briefly, and left.
***
When Caitlyn finally managed to calm down a little, she got in the shower and turned on the water as hot as she could stand it. She had been crying so hard that her face was throbbing. The article hadn’t even been that vicious, though not for lack of trying. She had suffered much more hateful language criticizing her every move during high school. Maybe it was the combination of reminders: She wasn’t in fact the most beautiful woman in the world, no matter what Emrys said. And he had been with many, many other women who were far better matches for a prince.
Caitlyn had been trying to keep this affair light. She had wanted to protect her heart from getting too invested in Emrys again, but seeing these reports made it obvious that she was far from indifferent. She was in love with him. She had never stopped being in love with him.
But she didn’t know if she could do this. Did she have the strength to stay with the type of man who considered marriage a business arrangement to get his trust fund? Could she stand being in the tabloids whenever there was a slow news day?
Caitlyn came out of the shower, and true to his word, Emrys had cleared out to give her space. She was grateful. Even if she wanted his arms around her, having him near was too overwhelming. She went to her closet, slipped a dress over her head, and combed through her wet hair as she went over to the table to retrieve her phone.
She was tempted to check where the news cycle had taken this story, but as curious as she was, she didn’t want to start crying again. It felt like she might never stop if she started. Instead she called down to the kitchen to request tea be sent up, took her phone, and went out onto the balcony to try to relax and enjoy the crisp autumn air.
If this thing between her and Emrys could go nowhere, if she could never be good enough for him, then why let the paparazzi ruin her vacation? She could speak with him about arranging a plane home when he left to go film. Better to cut it off now before she found herself in so deep that she couldn’t pry herself away from him.
Her phone rang. She looked to find that Melinda was calling her again.
“Hey,” she answered.
“Hey, girl. Just wanted to check in on you. How has it been?”
“I’m just exhausted, honestly. I don’t know why this hit me so hard.” Caitlyn rubbed one hand over her arm. “I should’ve known he had other girlfriends.”
“Yeah, but nobody expects the paps to be all up in their business. This really does suck.”
Caitlyn stretched out like a cat. “It does. And our vacation was going so well, too. Aside from this and my incredible shrinking bras, everything was basically perfect.”
“Shrinking bras?” Melinda laughed.
Caitlyn cupped one of her breasts. “I don’t know what’s up with these things. They’ve been the same since I was sixteen, but now they aspire to be the size of my head.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I’m exaggerating. Can having too much sex make your tits swell?”
“No!” Melinda scoffed. “Well. Actually, they could if you were pregnant. Are you pregnant?”
“Of course I’m not pregnant! We always use condoms.” Well, almost always. Caitlyn licked her tongue in mock offense. “How rude.”
“I dunno, girl. It only takes once. Overly emotional, tired, swollen jubblies…”
“Don’t joke. That would be the worst thing that could happen right now. There are a million cameras on me.”
Caitlyn frowned and sat up to look at how her breasts fit into the top of her dress. It had been a long time since her last period, but she’d always been irregular, to the point where her doctor had told her she might have trouble getting pregnant. That knowledge had kept her from worrying about the occasional lack of protection.
“Maybe so. Sorry this is so rough on you. I guess getting whisked off to a European castle can’t be perfectly free of tension. Or if it is, you probably have to put up with singing rodents or something. I’m glad you’re okay, though. I was kind of worried that you’d disappeared for so long.”
“It’s just so hard to leave Emr
ys.”
“Because he wants you to stay?”
“Because I want to stay. I want to be with him, but…I don’t know if I can make this work.” Caitlyn rose and walked back into the bedroom. She stood in front of the full-length mirror, smoothing her hand over her dress and trying to determine if the curve of her stomach was curvier than it had been. She had been indulging a lot during their vacation, and it would be too early to see anything, even if it were true.
“What time is it there, Mel?” Caitlyn asked. “Can I call you back?”
“It’s almost five AM here. We’re nine hours behind you and I’m about to go out for a run. Any other time you called would be great.”
“Okay. Talk to you later.”
Caitlyn went to find underwear and shoes and headed out of the hotel on foot. She found a market where she could pick up a few things. Back in the hotel room, she stepped into the bathroom and ripped open the package. Used the test. Waited three minutes.
As she stared at the test, and it stared back at her, Caitlyn sucked in her lower lip and felt her heart pounding so hard that it shook the ruffle on the top of her dress a little.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” she murmured.
Chapter Ten
Tension shadowed them the remainder of their time in Greece. Emrys wanted to ask Caitlyn to stay, Caitlyn seemed to be stressed by their situation, and they spoke little of it. Sensing that she was feeling more than a little anxious about the potentially lurking cameras, Emrys planned their activities indoors—in their hotel room, clubs where he could ensure security would minimize photography, and private rooms when they went out to eat.
To make matters worse, Caitlyn seemed to be coming down with something. She would no longer take a drink of champagne with him, making the excuse that her stomach felt funny. He was beginning to think that she was just saying that to keep from letting her guard down with him. One morning he woke to hear her getting sick in the bathroom.
The water ran, and there was the sound of gargling and spitting, before Caitlyn emerged, one hand rubbing over her stomach, and slipped back into bed as though nothing had happened. When Emrys rolled over, she gasped, clearly startled.
“We should talk,” Emrys told her, stroking her cheek.
“We should?”
“I don’t like seeing you so upset. Tell me what I can do.”
“I don’t know if you can do anything, Em.” Caitlyn let him slip his arm around her back and pull her closer. She sighed and leaned her forehead into his shoulder.
He petted the back of her hair. “When I go on set, you should head back to the palace.”
“I should go home.”
“You don’t want to be on a long flight right now. You’re sick. And trust me, in the few weeks after a scandal, you don’t want to be spending any more time in the public eye than you have to.” Emrys lifted her chin with two fingers. He needed her to agree to this; the rest would follow. And his mother was expecting her. “Do as I say. Go to the palace. Rest. Spend some time catching up with your work with no eyes but those of the servants on you.”
“And your mother.”
“She went on vacation, too, to see her aunt in Denmark. She won’t be back for another week.” Emrys shrugged his head to the side. It wasn’t true, but Caitlyn would feel more comfortable going to the palace if she thought she wouldn’t be dealing with his parents. “Imelda might be there, but you know she’s always busy with work.”
Caitlyn seemed to be thinking on it. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, furrowing her borrow and huffing a little sigh.
“I would love to have you come with me for the shoot, but since you are obviously sick, you wouldn’t enjoy it much. Sometimes significant others will come on-set with the stars, but usually only for a short time,” Emrys explained. “Maybe if you start to feel better in a week or so.”
“And I doubt we’ll be immune from cameras on the set where Emrys Sébire is filming.” She lifted her head a little to give him a fresh, minty kiss. “I could stay at the palace for a little, I guess. But I’m not really sick—“
“I just heard you in there, Cait.” Emrys stroked one hand down her back. “But our family doctor at the palace will take care of you, and the staff will attend to whatever you need.”
Caitlyn frowned again, but then nodded. “All right. I’ll wait there for you.”
***
Caitlyn simply couldn’t find the words. She’d tried several times to explain to Emrys that they were expecting a child, but each time she felt her heart in her throat, and something stopped her. She knew that their relationship was on more precarious ground than it had ever been. What would happen to them with the stress of a baby?
She could just take care of the problem herself, but she didn’t want to do that behind his back. Secrets had never been good for them, and if she were honest, she didn’t know if she could take a child away from Emrys, no matter how he’d hurt her in the past. Besides, if she didn’t have this child now, she would probably regret it when her unpredictable fertility made it impossible. And she did want children, if it was an option.
Still, they’d never talked about children or their future together, unless Emrys’s ridiculous “trial engagement” week counted. Caitlyn wasn’t even certain, in spite of the paparazzi’s certainty of her status as both the fiancée and the mistress, whether she even counted as his girlfriend. Behind his ruse, everything they had seemed to be an extended fling.
And now it was turning into a long-distance fling while Caitlyn tried to decide what to do with this baby.
They said a tearful (on her part) goodbye at the jet, since he would be traveling in another direction, and when she arrived at the palace, Imelda was there to greet her.
“We’ve put to rest the rumors,” Imelda said after their perfunctory greetings. “The media is always a problem. They’re always looking for something sensational, even when it’s quite the opposite. You’d think that the prince’s sudden engagement would turn them on, but it’s not scandalous enough, I suppose.”
“They had to have known, though, right?” Caitlyn walked with her arms crossed over her. Somehow, Imelda seemed to be the kind of person who might look right through you. Plus, she’d had four children herself. She had to know the signs. “They had pictures of me here in Cabeau and in Greece. The first paper to leak the story must have known they were making it up.”
“I don’t know whether they did or not. I doubt they care, as long as it sells, and in the global scheme of things, it’s unlikely that certain countries think too hard on what the royal family of Cabeau is up to. Emrys only gets their attention because of his career.” Imelda took Caitlyn’s arm, obliging her to unfold them and walk with a straight back. “I expect now they’ll do some digging on you and try to publish an exclusive. I hope you don’t have any skeletons in your closet.”
“My closets back home are too small for my wardrobe. I couldn’t fit anything else in them.”
Imelda stared at her blankly.
“There might be some pictures of me in clubs where I’ve traveled, but I haven’t exactly led a life of debauchery. I’m a web designer. We spend a lot of our lives indoors.”
“That is good. They always have enough on Emrys. No need to give them more. In fact, if your background is that clean, it will probably encourage Father to give you his blessing to marry sooner.”
Caitlyn’s chest tightened. “How long do you think he’ll take to decide?”
Imelda shook her head. “I couldn’t guess. But I don’t think he’ll refuse you. At this point, marrying Emrys off to anyone of the female sex would be a beneficial end to this war between them.”
“That’s…nice.”
“Don’t get me wrong. You’ve no connections to speak of, and we’ll have our hands full training you in the next few weeks, but Mother and Father are really just eager to get him settled already. He’s been so much better behaved since you’ve been in the picture.” Imelda led them into a
sitting room where tea had already been laid out. “I think perhaps they are both a bit put out that you are such a civilizing influence on him. After all, they could have had this tamed version of Emrys for years if they hadn’t tried to marry him to Miranda.” She gestured for Caitlyn to sit. “Of course, the king does not make mistakes, you understand.”
“I, uh, right.” Caitlyn considered trying to get Imelda to let her retire to her rooms. She was tired and a little nauseous from the flight still, but Imelda wasn’t asking, really.
Once she was in her chair, Imelda lifted her chin, straightened her back, and motioned for Caitlyn to sit up straight as well.
“When you are in company, you must not slouch or fidget. You should assume that every eye is upon you, waiting for you to make a mistake,” Imelda instructed.
“Well, they are, aren’t they?” Caitlyn sat up straight, self-consciously trying to suck in her stomach a little, although the empire waists she was fond of tended to hide the bit of softness she’d gained during the vacation.
“Yes,” Imelda said seriously.
A pair of servants entered the moment she rang a little bell. One of them poured tea for each of them, and the other servant placed a few pastries on their plates with silver tongs. Caitlyn stared at the food. She was incredibly hungry, but she looked to Imelda to lead. This was obviously part of the “training” she was expected to complete.
Imelda gave her an approving nod. The way Imelda held the cup, how she gave a delicate sip, how she took small bites and dabbed the corners of her mouth—each move was calculated. Caitlyn tried to mimic her, but her sips were too loud and her bites too large. She got sticky glaze on the corner of her mouth, and Imelda gestured empathically to her napkin.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Just try again. You don’t have to be perfect, just not embarrassing.”
Was she embarrassing? It had never occurred to Caitlyn before that Emrys might have any opinion about the ways of moving and eating that came most natural to her. Was that one of the reasons he didn’t want her on set? Had she embarrassed him in France, here, and finally in Greece? She knew she had embarrassed him at the jazz club in New York…but it wasn’t as though Emrys was any authority on what was appropriate. Plus, he could be kind of a snob, when he was in a mood.
