And he had gone back into the palace and, instead of attending his scheduled meeting with his father and Edwin to discuss his future, he had packed a bag, commandeered the royal jet and flown to Courchevel, where he had spent a week with friends. During the day he had skied every black run in the resort and by night he had partied hard. But it hadn’t worked. He hadn’t been able to outrun his hurt, the humiliation of having declared his one-sided love. And then there had been the guilt—the guilt of knowing that he was letting Edwin and his father down. But also the guilt that he was letting himself down. After a week he had returned to Monrosa, knowing he needed to find a new path for himself in life. One that would give him a purpose and meaning. One that might fill the vacuum inside of him.
Now he gently asked Kara, ‘How are you doing?’
Kara blinked hard. ‘Okay.’
He placed a hand on her shoulder and drew her into his side. Affection and concern clogged his throat.
‘It’s easier now that you are here,’ Kara added.
A few days after he had returned to Monrosa, whilst he had still been thrashing out exactly what his role would be, his father still advocating hard for him to take a position in the treasury despite his objections, he had walked into Edwin’s office and an argument between Edwin and Kara. Taken aback by how distressed they had both seemed, his first instinct had been to back out of the room, but something had told him to stay. At first they had both tried to deny that they were having an argument in the first place, and then they each claimed that the other person was overly committed to their work...and eventually, asking Kara for her permission to do so, Edwin had told him of their struggle to conceive a baby.
It had been a huge turning point in his life. Edwin and Kara confiding something so personal, trusting him with it, had deeply affected him. He saw the power and connection of family. The power of being there for one another. And, coming from that conversation, he knew he wanted to take over some of their responsibilities—in his role as Head of Sports and Tourism he would use his past experience and contacts to forge a different type of tourism, away from the mass tourism of the past to a sustainable model.
Studying him for a moment, Kara asked gently, ‘And how about you, Luis—are you okay?’
A few months ago he would have made a quip, shrugged off her question with defensive humour. But Edwin’s and Kara’s honesty, his own rawness since falling in love with Alice, the honesty, the truthfulness he had shared with her in the days they spent together, had him answer, ‘Everything went wrong with Alice... I don’t know what to do.’
‘Listen to your own instinct,’ Kara said, then, blinking hard, almost but not quite pushing away a gleam of tears, she added, ‘There’s always hope.’
He swallowed hard as he watched Kara walk away, knowing that she was thinking of her and Edwin’s much longed-for baby. And then he thought about his final letter to Alice that he had sent yesterday. It was his last throw of the dice. At times he wondered why he was putting himself through all of this—what if his instinct that he had told Alice way too soon that he loved her was wrong and in fact she simply didn’t love him?
He looked around the party. To the friends and colleagues and old rivals who had travelled from all over the world to celebrate with him. To the locals who had known him as a teenage rebel and had finally forgiven him for the all-night parties he had used to throw in the boat house, the noise travelling across the harbour and keeping half the city awake, causing a flurry of complaints to the palace. He saw his father and Edwin, involved in some grave discussion, his father still reluctantly letting go of power. Relationships were messy and complex...but the essence of life when you got them right.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE EXIT DOORS at the airport arrivals hall glided open and Alice stepped out onto the concourse on a wave of uncertainty. Should she turn around? Take the return flight back to Dublin? She studied the overhead signs, one directing her to the taxi rank, another towards Departures and the safe life she knew back in Dublin.
‘Miss O’Connor, welcome to Paris. I’m here to take you to your hotel.’
She whipped around at the softly spoken words to find a tall, dark-haired man, entirely dressed in black.
‘His Highness Prince Luis sent me.’ He took hold of her suitcase and gestured for her to follow him.
For a moment she considered wrangling the suitcase from him, but the man was built like a tank. She was so confused, her ability to think straight a thing of the past, fear taking over instead. She wasn’t even certain why she was here. She still had no faith in her judgement. But she knew she had to have some form of closure with Luis. She so desperately wanted to believe that he loved her but a voice in her head was mocking her gullibility. This wasn’t how love was portrayed in the movies. This was messy and emotional and so damn scary that she was barely holding everything together.
Their car was parked directly outside the arrivals hall in a no-parking zone. Two airport security men were standing by it. For a moment she thought they were about to ticket them but instead they shook her escort’s hand and wandered off. And then she realised it was a diplomatic car.
Inside the car, the driver had the engine idling. Her escort opened the rear door for her and once she was settled he sat in the front beside the driver. She studied the back of both men’s heads, it slowly dawning on her that she had seen both of them in Monrosa. Of course—they were Luis’s protection team.
She sank into her seat, hoping that neither of them had witnessed her ambush and kiss him that first time at Kara’s wedding, or worse still had watched her drag him into the woods on New Year’s Eve. They drove in silence into the centre of Paris. At her hotel, The Montclar, she was met by the general manager, who took her directly to her suite, where he informed her that His Highness Prince Luis had arranged for them to dine in an hour’s time in the privacy of his penthouse suite.
She nodded and smiled, taking the access key to the private lift that serviced the penthouse, assuring him that she would make her own way there, her smile only fading as her door clunked shut.
She counted to ten. Threw off her jacket. And opened the door again and rushed to the stairwell. She bolted down the five floors and into the reception area. Two protection officers were standing at the penthouse lift. They eyed her dubiously. No doubt his dates in the past would have worn something more glamorous than just jeans and a sweatshirt. She waved the access key at them and stated her name. They exchanged a look, but then one of the men pressed the call button. The private lift arrived within seconds. And its ascent to the twentieth floor passed in the blink of an eye. She pulled back her shoulders as the doors opened, expecting to encounter yet more security personnel standing in a corridor, but instead the doors opened onto a vast sitting room. And to Luis, who was sitting at a desk, working through a pile of paperwork.
He was wearing a white open-necked shirt, the grey suit jacket lying on the arm of a sofa matching his grey trousers. Her heart fluttered and danced to see him. She closed her eyes for a moment, exasperated with herself. Her heart knew nothing. It was a soft, squidgy thing that gave way too easily to lust and easy compliments and promises.
She stepped into the room. ‘I’m not in the mood for dinner.’
He stared at her.
She moved towards the desk. Folded her arms. ‘So what did you want to talk about?’
‘You’re angry.’
‘No, I’m not.’
She waited for him to say something but he just continued watching her. She clapped her mouth shut against the words bubbling inside of her desperate for an escape. She hated this new side to her, this irrational passion. Life had been so much easier before when silence had come so easily to her. But Luis had unleashed something inside of her and it scared her just how out of control it made her feel.
Why wasn’t he saying anything? This meeting was his idea. He was the cha
tty one. The one who always knew what to say. Panicking, she turned away, afraid of the emotions she was feeling. But at the lift she spun around and admitted, ‘Do you know what? Yes, I’m angry. And I hate it.’ She moved across the room, stopped in front of the desk, all sense of pride abandoning her. ‘I’m angry because I’m here and I don’t really know why I came.’
* * *
Luis’s heart was pounding. For the past week he had been dreading the prospect of Alice not turning up. He had tried preparing himself for the disappointment. And in the hope she would come he had also run through endless scenarios for how he would handle her silence and upset and wariness. But what he had not anticipated was this anger. She was practically sizzling with it. And he was at a loss as to how to deal with it.
Standing in front of him, wearing her trademark black jeans and a black sweatshirt, her silver eyes shining bright with emotion, her cheeks hot, she was throwing down a gauntlet that he didn’t understand. How was he supposed to react? What was she looking for from him? He scrambled for a foothold in understanding how to react. And then the words came to him. They were on the tip of his tongue, ready to be uttered, but he held back, knowing he was possibly going to make the worst mistake of his life. He opened his mouth, his heart, his pride, and said quietly, ‘You’re here because you love me.’
* * *
She snorted. ‘Do you reckon?’ She knew she was being nasty and irrational, something deep inside of her screaming for protection.
‘Being in love is scary.’
‘Scary? I’ll tell you what is scary.’ Inside, she shouted at herself to stop. Why was she doing this? Why was she fighting him? ‘Scary is not knowing if you are being duped, if you are reading a situation all wrong. Scary is never being able to trust your own judgement. Scary is being pushed to say things you’re not ready to say.’ She paused for a breath, the fire inside of her dimming.
‘And do you know what’s scary for me?’ he asked. ‘Not being believed in. I’ve spent the past twenty years fighting my father’s distrust. With you, I had thought it was different.’
She swallowed at the softness of his tone, the hurt in his voice. Her heart felt swollen with fear and love and confusion. ‘How can I believe you?’
He looked down at his hands clasped before him on the desk. For a moment she had a vision of him walking towards the lift and opening its doors, telling her that their meeting was over. Panic turned her stomach over.
He lifted his head, his expression intense. ‘Why can you believe me? How about the fact that you’re the first person I have ever declared my love to? And not because I was scared of love in the past...but because I have never fallen for someone like I have for you.’
‘We both know that your life is uncertain right now—what if you’re confusing the need for certainty and security with love?’
His gaze narrowed, his expression confounded. ‘I’ll admit to struggling as to what my future direction would be when we met.’ He flipped closed his laptop, his expression hard. ‘But do you seriously think that I’m so lacking in character and self-understanding that I would open my heart to you just to have a distraction, a new purpose in life? Really? Do you think so little of me?’
His voice carried a barely contained fury. She braced herself for the fear, for the panic that always hit her when faced with another person’s anger. ‘Why me, Luis? There are so many other women you could have chosen.’
His mouth tightened. ‘Why you? Because you’re the bravest, funniest, most intelligent, most contrary woman I have ever met.’
She stood. ‘I’m a physical mess around you and I hate being so out of control. We could have...maybe we should have...maybe it would have doused the fire between us.’
He stood and moved around the desk with the slow, easy grace of a panther. His eyes bored into hers. ‘You can say it, Alice. We should have slept together. Do you think that would have doused what’s between us? It would have only made it worse. Do you think it was easy for me not to have slept with you? Do you think I didn’t want to strip you naked and make love to you time and time again? Do you know how many times I fantasised about knocking on your bedroom door, or arriving on your doorstep in Dublin, and having sex with you?’
‘What stopped you? Why did you push me away? Do you know how that made me feel?’
‘I was trying to protect you.’
Her heart felt too big for her chest. She stepped back. Placed her hands on her hips. Testing him. Hating herself for being so needy. ‘I didn’t want your protection. I wanted your rawness, your desire. I yearned for you to want me without reason...the way I wanted you.’
He dipped his head, and then with a grunt he was moving towards her. He whipped her up in his arms and pushed her against the terrace door behind him, the uninterrupted view of the Eiffel Tower in the distance of no interest to either of them.
His mouth locked onto hers. His breath was hot, his tongue fierce. He wrapped her legs around his waist. She dug her fingers into his hair. Wanting to hurt him. Wanting this so badly.
He pushed up her sweatshirt, muttering a low curse on seeing her black lace bra beneath.
His mouth met hers again, his hand cupping her breast.
It was a duel of a kiss, sending her head and body spinning into a web of lust. Feeling every edge of resistance melt away, and terrified of that fact, she knew she had to test him even further. Breaking away she said, ‘Admit it, this is just about lust to you. It was just a cat-and-mouse game to you, to really hook me and get me under your control.’
His hand cupped her breast even harder, and she bit his neck.
He growled. ‘No! And you know that... I’ve never tried to control you. It’s your past that’s controlling you. Stop pushing me away. Believe in me. Believe in us.’ He twisted his head and whispered, ‘I love you...’
For a moment she considered giving in to him, giving in to what was in her heart, but the sceptic, the fighter in her, made her whisper, ‘How long before you start regretting saying it, though...how long before the novelty of thinking you’re in love with me wears off?’ She bit down softly on his earlobe. If she pushed him away, if she forced him to see the truth of their relationship, she could save herself from the heartache of being rejected. Her dad never loved her despite all of his declarations and promises. What if Luis was the same?
He groaned. She bit down a little harder.
His thumb flicked across her nipple. Her head fell backwards as a ripple of pleasure ran through her body. ‘I’m a one-woman type of guy; I’m never going to stop loving you.’
She kissed him, her mouth demanding, needing the connection her heart was too afraid to allow. What they had, the emotional connection, couldn’t be real. It was too fantastical. Real life wasn’t like this. Ending the kiss, she whispered, ‘It’s lust. Nothing more.’
His eyes met hers, passion and honour shining brightly. ‘You’re wrong.’
How could he be so certain? ‘Aren’t you scared?’
She cringed at her badly thought-out question, at the tremble in her voice. Hating the vulnerability she had failed to mask.
His forehead came to rest against hers, his unblinking autumnal eyes searching hers. ‘I’ve never been more scared in my entire life. But for the last six weeks I have been miserable and I cannot contemplate life without you. I’ve missed you. I’ve missed your laughter, your smile, your body, the way you roll your eyes...’ he paused and kissed her on the mouth, with a rough desperation she understood only too well, but when he pulled back the fire in his eyes was fading ‘... I’ve missed the sense of peace you bring to me. The calmness. The acceptance. I’ve been running away from myself for as long as I can remember, but with you, I’ve stopped running.’ He paused, his voice breaking with emotion. ‘Without you I’m not the person I want to be. I’m not the person I’m capable of being.’
He eased her away from the win
dow, stepped back, but she followed and gathered him into her, her heart aching. Against his chest she whispered, ‘I didn’t want to believe that you loved me, because I couldn’t understand why you would.’ She drew back and shook her head. ‘I’m an introverted control-freak virgin...could two people be more different? I’m broken, Luis. I’m not good for you. You deserve better. You deserve a woman who can love you blindly, who never doubts you.’
His hand touched her cheek. ‘You are the calm to my chaos. You get me. I have never met someone who wants to know me like you do, who wants to get beneath the person I choose to show to the world.’ Tension lines pulled at the corners of his eyes. ‘I love you, Alice...but I need to know that you believe me when I say that. I cannot be in a relationship where I’m not believed.’ He paused and planted a slow, tender kiss on her lips, his hands cupping her cheeks. ‘Or in a relationship where my feelings are not reciprocated.’ His voice dipped into a bare whisper. ‘I understand why you are scared of love. Your dad left you so scarred by his actions I understand why you would find it difficult to love...’ he stopped and let out a heavy breath, shrugging ‘...or perhaps I’m overcomplicating this and your feelings for me just aren’t the same. Maybe I’m not enough...’
* * *
Luis waited for her to speak, his heart breaking apart. He had done it again. He had rushed in with both feet, desperate to have her know how much he loved her...but even more desperate to hear that she loved him back. He closed his eyes, cursing himself. He had sworn to himself that this meeting would be calm and unrushed. But instead it was all passion and desperation. Was he, in truth, subconsciously handing her an excuse to back out of what was between them? He turned and looked out of the window. It was starting to rain, fat raindrops running down the glass and blurring the Eiffel Tower. He walked over to the fireplace, suddenly feeling cold to the bone. He waited for her to speak, the fire behind the glass screen of the modern inset stove doing little to touch the chill in his body.
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