He was not about to tell the world the unvarnished truth about his private life. Even if he’d behaved in an exemplary fashion, that would have been extraordinarily difficult for him.
But his behavior had not been exemplary. Far from it.
He’d been an imbecile. On any number of levels. And it just wasn’t in him, to stand up and confess his own idiocy to the world.
The next day was as bad as the one before it. He and Sydney were polite with each other. Excruciatingly so. But they hardly spoke.
In his office, the phone rang off the hook. Every newspaper, every magazine, every radio and TV station wanted a few brief words with Prince Rule. He declined to speak with any of them.
And he stayed another night in the extra room. And then another after that.
The weekend went by. He spent time with his son. He and Sydney continued to speak to each other only when necessary.
Monday evening they had a meeting with Jacques Fournier, the architect they’d chosen, about the renovations at the villa. Sydney sent Rule an email about that on Monday afternoon.
An email. She was one room away, but she talked to him via email.
Do you want me to contact Fournier and tell him we won’t be available tonight?
He zipped her off a one-word reply. Yes.
She didn’t email back to update him on her conversation with Fournier. Just as well. He didn’t really care if the architect was annoyed with them for backing out on him.
What he cared about was making things right with his wife. Unfortunately, he had no idea how to do that.
Or if he did have an idea, he had altogether too much pride to go through with it.
* * *
That evening, she surprised him.
She came and hovered in the doorway to his little room. Hope flared in him yet again, that this might mean she was ready to forgive him. But her face gave him nothing. She seemed a little nervous, maybe. But not like a woman on the verge of offering to mend a serious breach.
“I called Fournier,” she said.
He set the book he’d been trying to read aside. “Thank you,” he said stiffly.
“Fournier said it was fine, to call and reschedule when we were…ready.” Her sweet mouth trembled.
He wanted to kiss the trembling away. But he stayed in the room’s single chair, by the window. “All right.”
“I’m sure he must know about that awful article…”
He shrugged. “He might.”
“Not that it matters what the architect knows.” She looked tired, he thought. There were dark smudges beneath her eyes. Was she having as much trouble sleeping as he was? “I… Oh, Rule…” She looked at him sadly. And pleadingly, too.
His heart beat faster. Hope, that thing that refused to die, rose up more strongly, tightening his throat, bringing him to his feet. “Sydney…”
And then she was flying at him and he was opening his arms. She landed against his chest with a soft cry and he gathered her into him.
He held on tight.
And she was holding him, too, burying her face against his chest, sighing, whispering, “Rule. Oh, Rule…”
He lowered his lips to her fragrant hair, breathed in the longed-for scent of her. “Sydney. I’m so sorry. I can’t tell you…”
“I know.” She tipped her head back, met his waiting gaze.
Crying. She was crying, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes, leaving shining trails along her flushed cheeks.
“Don’t cry.” He caught her face between his hands, kissed the tear trails, tasted their salty wetness. “Don’t cry…”
“I want…to make it right with us. But I don’t know how to make it right.”
He dared to kiss her lips—a quick kiss, and chaste. It felt wrong to do more. “You can’t make it right. I have to do that.”
She searched his face. “Please believe me. I didn’t suggest that press conference to shame you. I swear that I didn’t.”
“I know. I see that now. Don’t worry on that account. I understand.”
“I’m…too proud, Rule. I know that I am. Too proud and too difficult. Too demanding.”
He almost laughed. “Too prickly.”
“Yes, that, too. A kinder, gentler woman would be over this by now.”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “I have no interest in a kinder, gentler woman. And you are not too anything. You are just right. I wouldn’t want you to change. I wouldn’t want you to be anyone other than exactly who you are, any way other than as you are.”
“Oh, Rule…”
He took her shoulders and he set her gently away from him. “Can you forgive me?”
She shut her eyes, drew herself taller. And when she looked at him again, she wasn’t smiling. “I’m working on it.”
Strangely, he understood exactly what she was telling him. “But you aren’t succeeding. You can’t forgive me.”
She pressed her lips together, shook her head—and started to speak.
He touched his thumb to her mouth. “Never mind. You don’t have to answer. Let it be for now.”
“I miss you so. It hurts so much.”
Gruffly, he confessed, “For me, as well.”
She took his hand, placed it on her still-flat belly where their unborn baby slept. The feel of that, the promise of that, came very close to breaking his heart. “We have to…do something,” she said in a torn little whisper. “We have to…get past this. For the baby’s sake, for Trev. For the sake of our family. I have to get past this, put aside my hurt pride that you lied, that you didn’t treat me as an equal. We have to move on. But then, just when I’m sure I’m ready to let it go, I think of all the times you might have told me, might have trusted me… .”
“Shh,” he said, and lifted his hand to touch her lips again with the pads of his fingers. “It’s not your fault. I am to blame and I know that I am. Somehow, I have to make you believe that I do trust you in all ways, that no matter how hard the truth is, I will never lie to you again.”
She let out a ragged breath. “I want to believe you. So much.”
He lifted her chin and brushed one last kiss against her tender lips. “Give it time,” he said again. “It will be all right.” Would it? Yes. Somehow, he would make it so.
She stepped back and turned. And then she walked away from him.
It was the hardest thing he’d ever done, to watch her go. To let her go. Not to call her back. Not to grab her close again and kiss her senseless. Not to promise them both that everything was all right now.
When it wasn’t all right.
When something precious was shattered between them and he knew that, as the one who had done the shattering, it was up to him to mend a thousand ragged pieces into one strong, shining whole.
* * *
The answer came to him in the middle of the night.
Or rather, in the middle of the night, he accepted fully how far he was actually willing to go to make things right.
He saw at last that he was going to have to do the one thing he’d said he would never do, the thing he’d rejected out of hand because it was going to be difficult for him. More than difficult. Almost impossible.
But whatever it took, if it gave him a chance of healing the breach between him and Sydney, he was ready to do it. To move forward with it.
And to do so willingly.
Pride, she had told him. “I’m…too proud, Rule.”
They were alike in that. Both of them prideful, unwilling to bend.
But he would bend, finally. He would do the hardest thing. And he would do it gladly.
If it meant he would have her trust once more. If it meant she would see and believe that he knew the extent of the damage he’d done and would never do such a thing again.
He turned over on his side and closed his eyes and was sound asleep in seconds.
When he woke, it was a little after seven. He rose, showered, shaved and dressed.
Then he went to his office where he
got out the stack of messages he’d tossed in the second drawer of his desk—the stack he’d known somewhere in the back of his mind he shouldn’t throw away.
Not yet. Not until he was willing to make his choice from among them.
He chose quickly. It wasn’t difficult: Andrea Waters. She was a household name, with her own prime-time news and talk show in America, on NBC. She was highly respected as a television journalist. And women loved her warmth and personal charm.
He glanced at his watch.
It would be two in the morning in New York City. He would have to wait several hours until he could call her producer back himself.
* * *
He made the first call to New York at two that afternoon. By seven that evening, everything was arranged.
Now, to tell his wife. He rose from his desk to go and find her.
And there was a tap at his office door.
At seven in the evening? Caroline wasn’t out there to screen visitors. He’d told her she could go more than an hour before.
He called, “It’s open. Come in.”
The door opened—and Sydney slipped through.
He stood there behind his desk and drank in the sight of her. His lady in red—a red skirt and silk blouse, wearing those pearls her grandmother had given her, her hair smooth on her shoulders, just as it had been that first day, when he saw her in the parking garage and couldn’t stop himself from following her inside. She looked tired, though. There were still shadows under her eyes.
“I’ve been waiting to talk to you,” she said. “I…couldn’t wait any longer. I came to find you.”
“It’s been a busy day. I’m finished here now, though.” He tried on a smile. “I was just coming to find you… .”
Hesitantly, she returned his smile. “I hardly slept at all last night.”
“I know how that goes.” His voice sounded strange to his own ears—a little rusty, rougher than usual. “I haven’t been getting a lot of sleep, either.”
“I told you yesterday that I wasn’t there yet, I…hadn’t really forgiven you.”
“And I said I understood. I meant what I said.”
“Oh, but Rule…” Her smile widened. And all at once, her whole face had a glow about it. She hardly even seemed tired anymore. She had her hands folded in front of her. He thought she looked so young right then. A girl, an innocent. Looking at her now he would never have guessed that she’d given birth to his son, that she carried his second child under her heart. “Something happened,” she said. “Something wonderful.”
Something wonderful. His heart beat a swift tattoo beneath his ribs. “Tell me.”
“I don’t know. I…I was lying there, alone in our bed. It was almost one in the morning. I was thinking of how I missed you, beside me, in the dark. Thinking that I knew, I understood, why you had kept the truth from me. Objectively I could see how it must have been for you. Waiting too long to contact me, knowing you were up against the deadline of the marriage law. Telling yourself you were only waiting for the right moment to say the words. And then hearing about Ryan, about Peter. Fearing that if you told me the truth, I would suspect that you only wanted Trevor. And then, when you didn’t tell me, I could see how it only got harder for you, how every day the truth became more and more impossible for you to reveal.”
He shook his head. “None of which is any excuse.”
She put her hands to her cheeks, as if to cool the hectic color in them. “I just want you to know that I did understand…I do understand, intellectually.” She let her left hand drop to her side. Her right, she laid above her breast. “But my heart…my heart wanted you to trust in me. My heart wanted you to be bigger than your very realistic fears. My heart wanted you to give me the truth no matter the cost.”
“And I should have trusted you,” he said. “I was wrong. Very wrong. And I want you to stop torturing yourself because you can’t forgive me.”
She laughed then. A happy laugh, young and so free. And her eyes had that tear-shine, the same as the day before. She sniffed, swiped the tears away. “But that’s just it. I was lying there, thinking about everything, how wrong things had gotten between us, how I wanted to work it out but my heart wouldn’t let me. And all of a sudden, just like that…I saw you. I saw you, Rule. I…felt you, as though you were there, in our dark bedroom with me. And I saw that you love me and I love you and that’s what matters, that’s what makes it all worthwhile. And I didn’t even need to think about forgiveness anymore. It just…happened. I let my anger and my hurt and my resentment go. I realized I do believe in you. I believe in your goodness and your basic honesty. I believe that you love me as I love you. I want…our family back. I want us back.” She was crying again, the tears dribbling down her cheeks, over her chin.
“Sydney…” He was out from behind his desk and at her side in four long strides. “Sydney…”
She fell against him, sobbing. “Rule, oh, Rule…”
He wrapped his arms around her and held on tight. “Shh. Shh. It’s all right. It’s going to be all right…”
Finally, pressing herself close, she tipped her chin back and he met her shining, tear-wet eyes. “Rule. I love you, Rule.”
“And I love you, Sydney. With all of my heart. You are my heart. I looked for you for far too long. I’m so glad I finally found you. I’m so glad what we have together is stronger than my lies.” He lowered his head.
And he kissed her. A real kiss. A deep kiss. A kiss of love and tears and laughter. A kiss to reaffirm their life together. Again. At last…
That kiss went on forever. And still it wasn’t long enough.
But finally, he lifted his head. He took her face between his hands and brushed away the tear tracks. “I think you’re right. I think we’re going to make it, after all.”
“I know we will. I always knew—or at least, I kept promising myself that somehow, eventually, it would all work out.”
“I was coming to find you when you knocked on the door.”
She held his gaze, searching. “What? What is it?”
“You wanted me to call a press conference… .”
“Yes. I see now that was probably a bad idea.”
“At first, I though it was a bad idea, too. Mostly because of my pride.”
“It’s okay, Rule. Truly.”
“But I reconsidered.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No. I did reconsider—and I still decided against it.”
“It’s fine. I understand.”
“Instead, I’m going to give Andrea Waters an exclusive interview.”
She gasped. And then she made a sputtering sound.
He laughed then. “My darling, I believe you are speechless. I don’t remember that ever happening before.”
She groaned. “Oh, you…” And she gave him a teasing punch on the arm.
“Ouch!” He grinned.
“Really, Rule. You’re not serious.”
“Oh, yes I am. I’m going to tell the truth about you and me and our son. I’m going to tell it on Andrea Waters Tonight.”
“Um. Everything?”
“Well, I think it would be acceptable to manage the message, at least to a degree.”
She reached up, laid her hand on the side of his face. That simple touch meant so much to him. It was everything. To have her in his arms again, to feel her cool palm against his cheek, to know they were together, and that they always would be. “It isn’t necessary,” she said in a whisper. “It was too much for me to ask of you.”
“No. It wasn’t.”
She touched his lips with her thumb. “Shh. Hear me out.” She waited for his nod before she spoke again. “Yes, when it comes to us, to you and me, I demand total honesty. But I certainly don’t expect you to share all your secrets with the rest of the world.”
He took her hand, opened it, kissed the soft heart of her palm the way he’d always loved to do. “I think it should be possible to do this with dignity. With integrity.”
>
“You can cancel. I’ll be completely accepting of that.”
He only shook his head and kissed her palm again.
She said, “Okay. If you’re determined to do this…”
“Yes?”
“I want to be there, beside you, when Andrea Waters starts asking the questions.”
He turned her hand over, kissed the backs of her fingers, one by one. “I was hoping you would say that.”
“Are we going to New York?”
“No. She will come here, to Montedoro. There will be a tour of the palace as part of the broadcast. And then we’ll sit down, the three of us, and chat.”
“Chat.” Sydney shivered.
“Are you cold, my darling?”
“With your arms around me?” Her green gaze didn’t waver. “Never. But I am a little scared.”
“Don’t be. It’s going to go beautifully. I’m sure of it.”
“Kiss me, Rule.”
And he did, for a very long time.
Epilogue
Her Royal Highness Liliana, Princess of Alagonia, Duchess of Laille, Countess of Salamondo, sat alone in her bedroom in her father’s palace.
She wore a very old, very large green The Little Mermaid T-shirt, bought on a trip to America years before—and nothing else. Perched cross-legged on her bed, she held a delicate black plate decorated with yellow poppies and piled high with almond cookies. Lili intended to eat every one of those cookies. It was her second plate of them. She’d finished the first plateful a few minutes before.
Also, close at hand, she had a big box of tissues. Already, she’d used several of those. The discards littered the bed around her.
She was watching the television in the armoire across the room. It was Andrea Waters Tonight, an American program. Andrea Waters was interviewing Rule and Sydney.
Lili thought the interview was absolutely wonderful. Such a romantic story. She’d had no idea. Rule, a sperm donor? She never would have imagined that, not in a hundred thousand years. And Sydney’s little boy, Trevor—he was Rule’s all along.
Of course, Lili should have guessed. The resemblance was nothing short of striking.
The Prince's Secret Baby Page 19
