Heart Captivated

by Lindsay Bergman

  “Thank you, Bree,” Sophie said softly. “I know you really wanted to go sailing, but I just can’t be around him right now.”

  “Then what are we still doing here?” I demanded, suddenly angry. “Why don’t we just go home?”

  “Because I’m not ready to give up yet.”

  “But you’re not even trying!” I jumped to my feet and glared down at her, my hands braced on my hips. “If you care so much about him, then why aren’t you fighting for him? What are you waiting for?”

  “I’m waiting for him to look at me!” Sophie shouted, rising up onto her knees. She stabbed a finger at me. “Every time I’m around him, he’s only looking at you. He doesn’t see me anymore. He doesn’t see anyone, but you.”

  I opened and closed my mouth a few times, at a complete loss for words. Finally, I whispered, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say. I’ve tried to stay away from him, and I’ve told him that there can’t ever be anything between us.”

  “And yet he still can’t keep his eyes off you,” Sophie said waspishly, the jealousy obvious in her voice. “How am I supposed to win him back if he won’t even look at me?”

  I took a deep breath, then answered her honestly. “Sophie, did you ever think that maybe you and Ashton weren’t meant to be?”

  Her gaze hardened as her hands clenched into fists. “And you think you two are?”

  “No, that’s not what I’m saying!” I said quickly, trying to prevent the storm before it raged. “I’m just saying that you can’t force someone to have feelings that aren’t there. If Ashton isn’t interested, then there’s nothing you can do about it.”

  “But we have the same exact face, Brielle!” Sophie snapped. “Why would he want you, and not me?”

  “Because it’s about more than just our looks. He can find us both attractive, but unless there’s a deeper connection, our identical faces don’t matter.”

  Sophie slid off the bed to meet me face-to-identical-face. Her eyes searched mine. “Do you two have a connection?”

  I thought about lying to her for the briefest of moments. “Yes,” I admitted in a whisper. “But it doesn’t matter,” I rushed on, when her expression crumpled. “I would never do anything to hurt you, Sophie. I know how you feel, and I promise that I won’t get involved with him. We’re only friends.”

  She stared at me for a long, tense moment. “I wish I could believe you,” she murmured painfully, before turning her back on me.

  My heart cracked as I watched her walk away, leaving me broken and split into two. As much as I yearned to be near Ashton, I knew I had to sever ties once and for all.

  I might have been falling in love with him, but I had loved my twin sister since we’d shared a womb. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for her, including giving up the one man who had claimed my heart.

  Chapter Eighteen

  As I moved down the grand staircase, my heart pounded out a remorseful beat within my chest. Halfway down, I spotted him. My hand tightened on the curved banister, knuckles turning white. I was breathless at the mere sight of him. He was waiting for me at the landing, and looking way too adorable in white slacks and shirt. His beige blazer was rolled up to the elbows, and the collar of his shirt was unbuttoned, exposing a glimpse of olive-toned skin. No one should have the right to look that gorgeous. He was a GQ model, not a prince.

  When he saw me, a grin stretched wide across his face. My answering smile was brittle.

  “Bonjour, ma belle.” Ashton reached for my hand the moment I stepped down onto the landing. “Are you ready to go?”

  My pulse throbbed. “No, actually. I’m … not going with you.”

  “What?” He stared at me in surprise. “Why not? Is everything all right?”

  “I can’t go with you,” I said slowly, as I retracted my hand from his grip, “because I can’t be around you anymore.”

  “Bree,” Ashton groaned. “Not this again.”

  “Yes, this again!” I snapped the retort, unusually close to losing my control. I was upset with him for continuing to pursue me, and I was upset with myself for allowing it. “I told you before that nothing could happen between us. I asked you to keep your distance, and not to hug me or call me sweet nicknames.” I jabbed an accusing finger at him. “And yet here you are, calling me beautiful!”

  Frowning, Ashton clasped my hand and towed me into the privacy of the front parlor. When we were alone with the door shut tight, he whirled around to face me. “Brielle, what happened?” Ashton demanded, seeking answers. “You were fine yesterday, more than fine, actually. It seemed like you enjoyed being with me.”

  “I did enjoy being with you,” I admitted in a hoarse whisper, looking away.

  “Then I don’t understand the problem.” He angled his head, trying to get me to look him in the eye. Since I refused, he spoke to my profile instead. “If you want to be with me, then be with me. Stop letting your sister dictate your life.”

  My head snapped up. “I’m not letting her dictate my life. I’m trying to be considerate of her feelings, Ashton!” I held up my hands, confused and frustrated. “What would you do if you were in my shoes? Would you go after the girl Alex was in love with?”

  “No, of course not,” Ashton sighed, dragging a hand through his hair.

  “Then you do understand the problem,” I said quietly. “I can’t be with someone that my sister has feelings for.”

  “Bree—” He stepped toward me, reaching out as if to take me in his arms. I backed away, as skittish as a frightened deer. Ashton drew to a halt and scowled. “Stop running away from me. I’m not trying to seduce you into submission, Brielle.”

  My laugh was a harsh bark. “Your definition of seduce is very different than mine.” With my wary eyes on his, I shuffled sideways until the butter yellow couch was safely between us. “This is why I told you we couldn’t even be friends,” I muttered, ignoring the way his eyes narrowed. “You’re incapable of keeping the distance between us.”

  “Brielle, you are driving me crazy,” Ashton growled. He kept his distance, but braced his hands on the back of the couch and leaned forward to better make direct eye contact. “I understand that you don’t want to hurt Sophie. But what she’s feeling is just a crush; it won’t last forever. And until that happens, I want to be near you. I want to be your friend, but I also want you to understand that I am waiting to be more than that.” His eyes darkened with promise. “I’m not giving up on you.”

  “But you should,” I whispered, my throat closing. “There’s no future for us.”

  “How can you say that?”

  “Because there are too many things stacked against us.” I listed them off with my fingers. “We’re from two different worlds: the rich and the poor—”

  “You can be my Cinderella,” his playful voice interrupted. “And I’ll be your Prince Charming.”

  I paused for a single heartbeat, distracted by his teasing dimpled smirk, then said hurriedly, “We’re from two different countries! My life is in America, and yours is here. Not to mention, you’ll be joining the Royal Navy in September. What kind of relationship could we have then?”

  Ashton crossed his arms and smiled wryly. “People have long-distance relationships all the time, Brielle.”

  “But you’re a prince, and I’m a cowgirl—”

  “And you sure look good in a cowgirl hat and boots.”

  “Ashton, please be serious about this,” I pleaded, looking away from his heated gaze. I gestured between us with one hand. “This, us—it’s just not meant to be.”

  He studied me for a long moment. “What are you so afraid of, chérie? You’re trying very hard to find a thousand reasons for why this won’t work. But no relationship is perfect, and every couple has their differences.” His gaze burned, seeing through to my soul once again. “There’s something here, and I know you feel it too. Give us a chance to see where this goes.”

  “Ashton …” I bit my lip, floundering for the right words. At first, it h
ad been about protecting Sophie’s heart. But the harder I fell, the more I realized that my fear of commitment stemmed from the pain of my past. My heart was more tattered than Ashton could ever realize.

  “Tell me, Brielle,” Ashton urged, his voice holding a hint of command. “Tell me why you’re so scared to even give us a chance.”

  Since he could see past my barriers anyway, I might as well confess the entire truth. “Even if Sophie’s heart wasn’t involved, I still don’t think I could take that leap. I’m not brave like you, or impulsive like Sophie, or reckless like Maddy. The truth is, I’m a coward.”

  He scowled. “You’re not a coward, Brielle.”

  “Oh, but I am,” I insisted. “Since my mom died, I’ve been too afraid to go after anything that might make me happy—only to then risk losing it. I’m too afraid of being hurt again.”

  “I would never hurt you, bien-aimée.”

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” I whispered painfully. “You see me as a country girl who can fix fences, ride barebacked and shoot clay pigeons. But can you honestly see me as a princess?” I shook my head sadly. “I don’t belong in your world, Ashton. I could never fit in here; I’d be a commoner pretending to be a princess.”

  “Madison did it,” he argued. “Her life is a Cinderella story, just like yours could be. She faced challenges and hardships, but she never gave up, and now all of Coradova adores her.”

  I smiled ruefully. “Maddy always believed in happily-ever-afters and fairytales. I’m glad she found her prince.”

  “Haven’t you found yours?” Ashton questioned boldly. “Our life together could be a fairytale.”

  “But I don’t believe in fairytales—or happy endings.” I looked away from his searching expression and stared blindly out the window. The constricting pain in my chest made it difficult to breathe. I rubbed the spot over my heart, pointlessly trying to ease the tightness that wouldn’t go away. “Not when my entire life has been nothing more than a series of disappointments.”

  “Life is full of disappointments, Brielle,” Ashton said softly. He moved briskly around the couch and caught hold of my arm before I could flee. “But it’s also filled with love and laughter, and moments that are worth fighting for.” He brushed his fingers along my cheek and clasped my chin. Carefully, he tilted my face up until my gaze met his, rich with emotion. “You are worth the fight, mon coeur.”

  “No, I’m not,” I whispered, closing my eyes against the painful truth, and trying to banish the hint of love I could see in his warm gaze. “If I wasn’t good enough for my own father, how could I ever be good enough for a prince?”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Try as I might, I couldn’t erase his dejected expression from my mind as Ashton had stalked out the front door to go sailing without me. After my confession, he’d spent close to half an hour trying to convince me otherwise, but I wouldn’t budge. Ashton couldn’t possibly understand the pain of abandonment that had haunted me for over a decade. He didn’t know about all the years I’d spent wondering why my dad had left us, why I hadn’t been good enough for him to stay, or to love.

  After arguing in circles, Ashton had given up and crossed over to the door. “You were right, Bree,” Ashton announced, looking at me over his shoulder. “You really can be stubborn sometimes.”

  A couple hours later, I was sulking alone out in the garden when I noticed the dark gray thunderclouds that were rolling in. Passing the cypress trees that led out onto the long stretch of lawn, I strode quickly down the pathway to the scenic lookout. Angry clouds were gathering overhead, smothering the previously blue sky in a blanket of gray. Beyond the palace walls, the water grew dark and ominous, the swells rising along with a fierce, billowing wind. The end of my ponytail whipped around to hit my face as drops of water began to rain down from the sky.

  A summer storm had appeared out of nowhere. My heart suddenly stopped.

  Ashton was out sailing right now. He was going to be caught up in the storm and held at the brutal mercy of an unforgiving sea. I spun on my heel and dashed across the lawn, rain pelting down in sharp pricks. My wet flip-flops skidded across the marble flooring as I raced across the threshold, slipping and sliding my way along the hallway.

  When I finally stumbled into Madison in the front parlor, I blurted out, “Have you heard from Ashton?”

  Her face fell, worry clear in her eyes. “No, the cell service is down all across Coradova.”

  My hair had come undone during my run through the storm; I pushed the wet strands away from my face, unconcerned that I probably looked like a drowned cat. I spotted Alexander hovering behind her and grasped desperately at his forearm. “What will happen to him? Could he …” I couldn’t force myself to say the words out loud.

  Alexander gave a single, brisk nod. “Storms in the Mediterranean can be very dangerous. Small sailboats like Ashton’s have been known to capsize.”

  Madison made a small noise, the worry deepening in her eyes. Alexander stepped close to her back and rubbed her arms in a reassuring gesture. “He’ll be all right, cuore mio,” he murmured to her gently.

  “What usually happens if a boat capsizes?” I couldn’t help but ask, my heart hammering in fear.

  Alexander could barely meet my eyes as he answered, “We don’t often find any survivors.”

  Dread settled in my stomach like a rock. I sank down onto the nearest chair, fear turning the blood in my veins to ice. What happened if Ashton drowned out in that storm? I would never see his dimpled smile, or warm ocean-blue eyes again. I’d never have the chance to tell him how much he really meant to me … to tell him that I loved him.

  Because despite everything—every barrier and every obstacle, and every reason not to—I had fallen in love with the youngest prince of Coradova.

  For the next two hours, I could barely focus on anything other than my fear. Everyone had gathered in the front parlor to wait for news of Ashton’s safety. As the minutes dragged on, the worry clogging my throat gradually increased until I felt as if I could barely breathe.

  Sophie and I were huddled together on a large wingback chair, arms entwined and heads pressed close together. Our spat was temporarily forgotten in light of Ashton’s life-threatening circumstances. Madison sat across from us in the matching wingback chair, squeezed in beside Mackenzie. Her shoulders were straight and face calm, but occasional flickers of worry danced across her eyes as she followed Alexander’s pacing form at the back of the room. Every so often he would pause to glance over at her, and it was as if just that brief connection of eyes was enough to strengthen them, before his pacing resumed and her silent vigil continued.

  Arianna and Bennett were seated beside her parents on the long couch, each of them wearing a perfect mask of composure. I was amazed by their ability to contain the riot of emotions I knew was tumbling through every one of them. As it was, I felt like I barely had a hold on the fear churning through my stomach.

  We all straightened at the sharp knock on the parlor door. King Mathis rose to his feet in a flash, and met the guard who entered the room upon his invitation.

  “Your Majesty,” the guard said, giving a bow. “We’ve heard from Beau by satellite phone. They were caught up in the storm but managed to run her aground along the northwest side of the island. They’ve taken cover to wait out the storm.”

  “And my son is safe?” King Mathis clarified.

  “Yes, Your Majesty. Prince Ashton is safe.”

  A collective sigh of relief filled the room. I let out the pent-up breath I’d been holding, feeling the worry in my chest ease at the confirmation of Ashton’s safety. I knew it wouldn’t completely abate until he was back home, safe and sound, but at least we knew he wasn’t lost to the mercy of the sea. Since he was safe, I would have another chance to see his dimpled smile and warm eyes, but I didn’t know if I’d have the courage to confess my love.

  Four hours later, I stood with half of the Royal Family and a collection of guards at the ed
ge of the harbor, eagerly awaiting Ashton’s safe return. Two hours after the satellite call, the storm had finally calmed enough for the prince and his guard to tempt the churning waters once again.

  A crowd had collected after word spread about Prince Ashton’s predicament. Eager faces peeked around others for a better view, everyone waiting for proof of the prince’s well-being.

  Waiting anxiously beside Arianna, I felt a prickle against my skin, almost like someone was watching me. I scanned the nearby crowd, searching for the eyes I could feel on me. There, at the back of the gathered crowd, was a man dressed in jeans and a black coat. His dark hair was a little too long, in need of a cut, and he had a growth of whiskers on his chin. And his intense, dark gaze was focused directly on me. I tensed when I realized that he was the same man who’d been watching me from the trees in Montana.

  Although we were separated by over forty yards, I knew he was watching me and not Princess Arianna standing close to my side. The intensity in his unwavering gaze was the same as it had been in Montana. A chill scuttled down my spine as fear settled in my chest. Was he the man who’d been asking around Coradova about me and Sophie?

  “Look, I see him!” Sophie exclaimed, darting around Arianna to hook her arm through mine. She pointed out across the harbor to the small, white sailboat steadily approaching.

  My entire being focused on that one pinpoint of a sail, watching as it drew closer, until finally she was docking at the end of our row. The crowd surged forward, only to be held at bay by the circle of royal guards surrounding us. More than one black-suited man rushed forward to help tie the Liberté into place. I raised up onto my tiptoes to look over their heads, searching the sailboat for a glimpse of raven-black hair and blue eyes.

  Ashton appeared a moment later near the stern, and swiftly climbed down. Surrounded by an escort of royal guards, he approached with a smile in place and brief wave for the exuberant crowd. He spoke to the man walking beside him, all the while scanning the nearby faces. His windblown hair was wet and mussed, and sand stained the white of his outfit, but otherwise, he looked unharmed. He looked over the anxious faces of his family, before locking his sights on me.