Vows to Save His Crown

by Kate Hewitt

  And the conditions were perfect, Mateo acknowledged as he slid slowly, inch by exquisite inch, inside her. Rachel’s eyes widened and her lips parted and she hooked one leg around his waist to draw him even deeper, so their bodies felt totally enmeshed, utterly entwined. As one.

  Here was the ultimate chemical reaction, where something new was created from two separate substances, and could never, ever be torn apart.

  Mateo began to move, and Rachel moved with him, hesitant at first but then with sinuous certainty, and they found their rhythm together as easily as if they’d always known it, minds and bodies and hearts all melded.

  It was wonderfully strange and yet as natural as breathing, as they climbed higher and higher towards the pleasure that was promised both of them, just out of reach until it burst upon them like a dazzling firework, and then, with a gasp and a cry, they fell apart, reassembling themselves together, as one, their bodies still entwined, their arms around each other as their releases shuddered through them.

  Mateo rolled onto his back, taking Rachel with him, their hearts thudding against one another with frantic beats.

  He’d meant to offer this—himself—as a gift to her, but it wasn’t, he realised now, that simple an exchange. He couldn’t give without receiving. He couldn’t offer himself and at the same time keep himself separate.

  If he’d thought he was in trouble this morning, after the ceremony, he knew he was utterly lost now. Lost—and yet found. And the thought terrified him, not for his own safety or self-protection, but for Rachel’s.

  He could not hold her heart in his hands. He could not bear to, for he would surely, surely shatter it.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  ‘THANK YOU SO much for your contribution, Your Highness.’

  Rachel smiled and nodded graciously at the head teacher of the girls’ high school in Constanza, where she’d been part of a round-table discussion on encouraging female pupils to study STEM subjects. The conversation had been wide-ranging and invigorating, and she’d enjoyed every minute of it.

  ‘Thank you for inviting me,’ she said as she took her leave, pausing for a photo op before shaking hands with everyone at the table. A few minutes later she was in the back of a black SUV, speeding back towards the palace.

  It had been a month since her wedding, and Rachel had done her best to fully involve herself as Queen. She’d selected several charities to support, and said yes to almost every engagement at which she’d been asked to appear. Maybe if she kept herself busy enough, she wouldn’t notice the empty space in her heart.

  She had nothing to complain about, Rachel reminded herself severely. It was a talking-to she had to give herself almost every day. Absolutely nothing to complain about, because she’d agreed to this; she’d known what she was getting into; she’d accepted the deal with full understanding of what it had meant.

  She just hadn’t realised how it would feel.

  Since their wonderful and frankly earth-shattering wedding night, Rachel had had hopes that something more—something a lot like love—would blossom between them, in time. When Mateo had held her to him, moved inside her, buried his face in her hair...

  She’d been so sure. Everything had felt possible.

  But in the month since that night, that incandescent sense of possibility had begun to fade, day by day and night by night. Mateo wasn’t cruel, or cold, or even cool. He was exactly what he’d said he’d be—a trusted friend, an affectionate partner. But he didn’t love her, Rachel knew that full well, and while she’d agreed in theory to a marriage based on friendship rather than love, she’d assumed it would mean that neither of them loved the other.

  Not, Rachel acknowledged hollowly as she watched the streets of Constanza slide by, that she would fall in love with a man who was determined not to love her. Who kept part of his heart clearly roped off, who had a shadow in his eyes and a certain distance in his demeanour that even a passionate night of lovemaking—not that she could even call it lovemaking—could banish.

  And meanwhile she felt herself tumbling headlong into something she was afraid was love. The kind of soul-deep, long-abiding love she had never expected to feel for anyone. But Mateo had been so kind...had made her feel so valued...had held her like a treasure and laughed with her and given her joy. Of course she’d fallen in love with him.

  It was just he hadn’t fallen in love with her, and had no intention of ever doing so, as far as Rachel could see.

  The SUV drove through the palace gates and then up to the front doors. A footman hurried out to open Rachel’s door, bowing as she stepped out. Four weeks of this kind of treatment and it still felt surreal. Rachel thanked him and then walked into the palace, heading for her private suite of rooms. It still felt strange, to live in a palace rather than her own home.

  Although Mateo had assured her she could redecorate her suite as she liked, Rachel hadn’t dared touch any of the antiques or oil paintings, the silk hangings and fine furnishings. As a result she felt as if she lived in a five-star hotel rather than a home, which was sometimes nice and sometimes a bit disconcerting.

  ‘Your Highness, you’re back.’

  Rachel turned to give her personal assistant a smile. ‘Yes, I am.’

  ‘The discussion was productive?’

  ‘Very much so, I believe. Do I have anything scheduled for the rest of the day, Monica?’

  ‘I don’t believe there is anything on your schedule until a dinner tomorrow night.’

  ‘Right.’ Rachel paused as she took off the heels she still hadn’t got used to wearing. ‘And do you happen to know where the King is?’ she asked casually.

  Monica’s face was carefully blank. ‘I believe he is out.’

  ‘Thank you.’ She dismissed her assistant with a smile and a small wave.

  Alone in her suite Rachel drifted around, grateful for an unscheduled afternoon and yet still feeling a bit lost. She’d seen very little of Mateo in the last month, besides formal events and nights—nights which were seared on her mind and made her body tingle. Still, she missed spending time with him, missed the easy friendship they’d once had, when it hadn’t been complicated by the demands of royalty—and marriage. Even if he would never love her, she wished he’d spend time with her.

  She had just changed into comfortable clothes and settled on a sofa by the window with her laptop, hoping to catch up on some emails to friends, when a light knock sounded on her door.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Hello.’ Mateo popped his head around the door, giving her a wry smile. ‘Are you busy?’

  ‘Busy? No.’ Rachel closed her laptop, trying to temper the feeling of delight that was spreading through her like warm, golden honey. Perhaps he just had a quick question to ask, and then he’d be on his way...

  ‘I thought we could spend the afternoon together,’ Mateo said, an unusual note of hesitation in his voice. ‘If you wanted to.’

  If? The smile that bloomed across Rachel’s face was impossible to suppress, not that she even wanted to. ‘I’d love that.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘What did you have in mind?’

  ‘I thought we could go sailing, just the two of us.’

  ‘On our own?’ After being shadowed by security and staff for the last month, the prospect was wonderfully liberating.

  ‘We’ll leave the security on the shore. They can’t live in my pocket all the time.’

  Rachel frowned. ‘Are you sure it will be safe?’

  ‘No one’s knows where we’re going.’ Mateo shrugged. ‘It would be good to get away.’

  Yes, it would. And the fact that Mateo wanted to spend time alone with her was intoxicating. ‘All right,’ Rachel said. ‘When do you want to go?’

  ‘How long until you’re ready?’

  She laughed. ‘Five minutes.’

  And it was only five minutes later t
hat they were driving in a dark green convertible, a palace car Rachel hadn’t seen before, but much preferred to the heavy SUVS with their blacked-out windows.

  With the sky bright blue above them and the sea sparkling below, the day felt full of promise.

  ‘Where are we going, exactly?’ Rachel asked.

  ‘A private marina where there’s a sailboat.’

  ‘I didn’t even know you could sail,’ she said with a laugh. Mateo threw her a glinting smile.

  ‘There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.’

  Today, with the sun shining and the sky so blue, that felt like a promise rather than a warning. Rachel smiled back.

  Half an hour later they were on a small sailing raft heading out into the shimmering blue-green waters of the Mediterranean Sea, with not a security officer or staff member in sight.

  ‘Where are we going now?’ Rachel asked as she tilted her face to the sun. ‘Do you have a destination?’

  ‘As a matter of fact, I do. There is a small island out here—not much more than a speck of land, but it has a nice beach. I used to go here when I was younger.’

  ‘To get away from it all?’ Rachel teased, and Mateo gave a grimacing nod.

  ‘Actually, yes. When I was out here, I could forget I was a prince.’

  ‘Was that something you wanted to forget?’ Rachel asked softly. She was aware, not for the first time, of all she didn’t know. She didn’t know about Mateo’s family, really, only that he was the youngest of three brothers. One had died, and one had walked away. Both, she realised now, must have left scars.

  ‘Sometimes it was,’ Mateo answered after a moment, his narrowed gaze on the glinting sea. ‘I’d always get punished for trying to escape. Sent to my room with no dinner. I suppose I deserved it.’

  ‘Your parents must have been worried about you.’

  ‘I suppose.’

  ‘You don’t sound convinced.’

  He shrugged. ‘As the third son, and a later surprise at that, I was a bit of an afterthought.’

  Rachel frowned. ‘Were you neglected?’

  ‘No, not at all. In some ways, it was a blessing—I had so much more freedom than either Kosmos or Leo.’

  ‘Tell me about your brothers,’ she said. ‘I’ve never heard you speak of them before.’

  ‘I suppose I haven’t had much to say.’ He nodded towards the sea ahead of them, and the shape of an island now visible. ‘Let me get us to the shore.’

  They spent the next few moments navigating the waters, and then mooring the boat in an inlet of a postage-stamp-sized island, no more than a strip of beach and a bit of scrub. With the sea stretching in every direction, Rachel couldn’t imagine a lonelier or lovelier spot.

  ‘I brought a picnic,’ Mateo told her as he reached for a wicker basket. ‘Or rather, I had the kitchen make one for me.’

  ‘Isn’t that how kings always do things?’ Rachel teased as she took his hand and he helped her out of the boat. She couldn’t remember when they’d last talked so much, or when she’d felt so happy. This was what she’d imagined, what she’d longed for—their friendship back, but something more as well.

  They strolled hand in hand onto the beach, and Mateo spread out a blanket before opening the picnic basket and setting out a variety of tempting goodies—strawberries, smoked salmon, crusty bread, a ripe cheese, and, of course, champagne.

  It was perfect, Rachel thought as he popped the cork on the bottle and poured them both glasses.

  Everything was perfect.

  * * *

  Mateo hadn’t planned any of this. It was strange, but his own actions were taking him by surprise. It felt as if one moment he’d been sitting in his study, staring out at the blue sky, and the next he’d jumped into a boat and sailed for the blue yonder.

  Not that he regretted what he’d done. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so relaxed, so free. He took a sip of champagne and closed his eyes, enjoying the sunlight on his face.

  He realised he didn’t even mind talking to Rachel about things he tried never to think about, never mind discuss—his family, his brothers, the deep-seated desire he’d had not to be a prince—or even a king. Yet somehow it felt different out here, sipping champagne on the sand, the barriers gone or at least a little lowered, the whole world wide open.

  ‘When did your older brother die?’ Rachel asked quietly, her generous mouth curved downwards, her eyes as soft as a bed of pansies.

  ‘Ten years ago. A sailing accident.’

  ‘Sailing...’ Those soft eyes widened and she glanced instinctively at the little boat bobbing gently on the waves.

  ‘Kosmos was a risk-taker. He loved living dangerously. He took a boat out during dangerous conditions, and sailed through a storm.’ Mateo remembered the shock of hearing the news, the sudden fury that his older brother, more of a distant, admired figure than someone he’d felt truly close to, could be so careless.

  ‘That was right when we started working together.’ Rachel frowned. ‘You never told me.’

  ‘We barely knew each other then.’

  ‘It’s more than that, Mateo.’ She paused, seeming to weigh her words. ‘Why did you never confide in me? I don’t mean about the royalty thing, which I actually do understand keeping to yourself. But other things. Your brother’s death. Your father’s death.’

  Mateo considered the question for a moment, rather than dismiss it out of hand, as he normally would have, saying, I never talk about myself. Or, There was never a good time.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said at last. ‘I suppose because, in doing so, I would have revealed something about myself.’ As soon as he said the words, he felt weirdly vulnerable, and yet also relieved.

  Rachel kept her soft gaze steady on him. ‘Something you didn’t want others to see?’

  He shrugged. ‘I was never that close to Kosmos or Leo. I looked up to them, but they were both older than me and they were very close themselves. They had a similar set of experiences—the heir and spare preparing for a life in the royal spotlight, while I was left to do more or less as I pleased.’

  ‘That sounds lonely.’

  ‘Like I said before, it had its benefits.’

  ‘Even so.’ Her quietly compassionate tone was nearly the undoing of him. Emotions he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding onto, buried deep, started to bubble up. Mateo took a sip of champagne in an effort to keep it all at bay. ‘It must have been a shock, when you were told you had to be King.’

  ‘It was,’ he agreed. He thought his voice was neutral but something must have given him away because Rachel leaned forward and laid her hand over his.

  ‘You’re doing an amazing job, Mateo. You’re amazing. I know I don’t even know a tenth of what you do, and with the talk of insurgency and this economic thing...’ She laughed softly. ‘I don’t know much about it, but I know you are doing the best job you can, giving two hundred per cent all the time.’

  ‘As a scientist, you should know better than to use the erroneous phrase two hundred per cent,’ he quipped, because to take her seriously would be to very nearly weep.

  ‘I’m a scientist, not a mathematician,’ she retorted with a smile. ‘And I’m not taking back any of it.’

  He shook his head, smiling to cover how much her words meant, how thankful he was for her. He wanted to tell her as much, but he couldn’t manage it because he felt too much and he wasn’t used to it.

  For fifteen years he’d kept himself from deep relationships, from love, because he was afraid of being hurt the way he’d been before, but more importantly, more deeply, because he was afraid of hurting another person. He couldn’t live with that kind of guilt and grief again, and yet here he was, treading on the thinnest of ice, in telling Rachel these things. In starting to care, and letting her care about him.

  He shou
ld stop it right now, but the truth was he didn’t want to. It felt too much, but part of that was good. It was wonderful.

  ‘I know you don’t want to hear anything soppy,’ she continued with an uncertain smile, ‘but I’m going to tell you anyway.’

  ‘I consider myself warned,’ he said lightly, although his heart gave an unpleasant little lurch. Was she going to tell him she loved him? He would not know how to handle that.

  ‘You’ve given me such confidence, Mateo,’ Rachel said quietly. ‘I haven’t told you much about Josh except that he didn’t break my heart. And he really didn’t. But he broke my confidence—not that I had that much to begin with.’

  ‘How...?’ Mateo asked, although from what Rachel had already told him, he thought he could guess. She sighed.

  ‘He was older than me, worldly and sophisticated. I had a crush on him. I suppose it was obvious.’

  ‘So what happened, exactly?’ Mateo asked, although judging by Rachel’s tone, the look of resignation and remembrance in her eyes, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

  ‘I suppose if it had been a romance novel, I would have said he seduced me. But if it was a romance, he wasn’t the hero.’

  ‘The one time?’ Mateo surmised.

  She nodded. ‘And the worst part was, afterwards he acted as if he didn’t know me. I bounced into class the next day, full of hope, of certainty. I thought we were a couple. He acted as if he couldn’t remember my name. Literally.’ She tried to laugh but didn’t quite manage it. ‘And then I overheard him joking to his friends, about how it would have to be a really desperate guy who was willing to...you know...with me.’

  ‘Oh, Rachel.’ Mateo couldn’t get any other words out. He hated the bastard Josh for what he’d done—the careless, callous disregard he’d shown for someone as lovely and genuine and pure as Rachel.

  ‘Anyway, I was telling you all this not to throw myself a pity party, but because you’ve changed that, Mateo. You’ve changed me. I used to always feel about myself—my body, my looks—the way he did. As if I was beneath notice. Easily forgettable. But when you look at me...’ Her voice trailed off and blush pinked her cheeks as she tremulously met his gaze. ‘I feel different. I feel...desirable. For the first time in my life. And that’s been wonderful.’ She gave an uncertain little laugh and Mateo did the only thing he could do, the only thing he wanted to do. He leaned forward and kissed her.