The bitterest, smallest details spilled out. ‘It was my ninth birthday when I met my grandfather for the first and last time.’
Jade sat so still on his lap he didn’t think she was even breathing. He wasn’t sure he was either. He couldn’t—because every pulse point in his body hurt.
‘He wasn’t interested, of course. He was irate. Yelling that he didn’t want to see them or me. He’d screwed up some investment. Screwed up his marriage. Sure as hell screwed up his daughter. In the end he just slammed the door. As far as Nathan and Lena were concerned, if there was no money, they didn’t want me any more. So they left me there—outside his locked gates. My grandfather didn’t open them. So I was alone.’
He’d been terrified, because the only people he’d known there had driven off, leaving him in some city miles away from the one person who’d ever shown him any kindness.
‘What happened?’ Jade asked.
‘Ellen came when she realised what had happened.’
‘How long were you waiting?’
‘I don’t know,’ he muttered. ‘Hours. She didn’t have a licence let alone a car. She had to bus and then walk and she’d only found out after she’d been at work all day. When she’d forced it out of a drugged-up, barely coherent Nathan.’
‘You must have been terrified.’
‘Cold and confused and starving.’ The memories twisted inside. ‘Ellen had made me that cupcake in the morning, but Nathan saw and before she left for work, he raged at her for wasting an egg on me. I was nothing but a drain on them then, you see. He smashed it in front of me after she’d gone. He was just so bloody mean.’ Alvaro had hated him. ‘But then, when it was dark, she came.’ Finally, finally, he’d been too relieved to even cry. ‘We never went back. She walked out on Nathan and Lena. She was finally furious enough to get past her own fear. Not for what they’d done to her. But to me. You should have heard how they used to talk to her. I’ll never forget it.’
‘And how did they talk to you?’
Yeah, he didn’t forget that either. How unwanted he’d been. How useless. How, if he wasn’t bringing them money, he wasn’t worth anything.
‘Ellen worked every job she could—taught me how a work ethic enabled a person to survive. Cooking, cleaning, picking crops, bussing tables, stocking supermarket shelves in the small hours...and she wasn’t young then, Jade. And it was hard and some days there was nothing much to make a meal with. And I was so hungry.’
‘So you worked hard too.’
He nodded. But he’d been on his own a lot—learning to cook as best he could, not just for himself, but for Ellen too. So she had something to come home to.
‘My birth mother had been a kid who made a mistake. But her parents? They were wealthy and they could have afforded to do the right thing. They could have gone through a proper adoption agency or something. But they were too obsessed with their own perfect image. So they passed her little mistake—me—off to someone else—never taking responsibility, let alone any kind of care for anyone other than themselves.’
‘What happened to her—your birth mother?’
‘No clue.’ He shrugged.
‘And her boyfriend?’
‘Apparently they paid him off too. My grandfather told me he took the money and didn’t look back.’
‘You’ve never tried to trace him?’
‘I don’t want to know,’ he said bluntly. ‘I don’t need that rejection all over again. Ellen and I got through—we got out of it. I’ve never seen any of them again and I never, ever want to.’
‘Alvaro, I’m so sorry.’
‘I’m not,’ he said, meaning it completely. ‘Not any more. I don’t need people like that in my life. People who only want to use you? Who’re only interested when you have something to offer them—like money. Or status. People who can’t stand there and take responsibility for their own damn actions.’
Jade looked upset and angry and he shouldn’t have told her. But once he’d started he’d been unable to stop and now she was...
‘They should have been more to you,’ she said with a broken voice. ‘They should have been there for you. They should have supported you.’
He shook his head. ‘Having it hard made me better. Made me fight in a way that maybe I wouldn’t have if everything had come easily. It made me appreciate Ellen and work my ass off to get her what she deserved.’
‘What you deserved too.’
Yeah. Becoming strong, becoming independent, had been everything. He’d refused to be a ‘burden’ to anyone any more. He would repay Ellen a million times over. And he would always make his own way with full independence. And he would never, ever need anyone again the way he’d needed someone that day when he’d been abandoned.
Only now Jade was watching and to his absolute horror a need deep within him was unfurling...for her. He needed her. Right now.
To lose himself in, right? To find that mindless obliteration in sex with her. Because he didn’t want—couldn’t want—to need her any other way.
But he couldn’t seem to move; his body was leaden. And his damned head hurt. Not just his head. His heart too. Everything. It all still hurt.
She carefully took the plate from him and picked up the black witch’s hat that had been placed there as that stupid Halloween decoration, putting it on her head to make room for the plate.
He nodded, because it was perfect. She did bewitch him. And that was all this was, wasn’t it? An ephemeral thing that wasn’t even real. She was like a beautiful witch. She looked at him unlike any other woman he’d known too. There was heat certainly, but tenderness too. None of that avariciousness in her eyes, no awareness of any kind of quid pro quo, it was almost an innocence. It was, he finally realised, an authenticity. And now she curled into him, wrapping her arms around him, holding him in an embrace that he couldn’t help returning. Enfolding his arms around her, feeling her soft skin and warm body, her gentle breath on his chest and the regular beat of her loving heart.
He should move, but he couldn’t. She was like an anchor in his lap. Not letting him leave. Giving him something to hold onto. Herself. Just to hold, here and now. And suddenly he was so very tired. He’d kept all that in, all his life. And now?
He’d never been as exhausted. As aching. And as okay. It was the strangest feeling of release.
‘Do you know what you are?’ Her whisper was so faint he had to concentrate hard to hear her. ‘All my birthdays and Christmases, rolled into one perfect present.’
Oh, but that was what she was for him. Unburdened by her crown, she was just Jade. And her gift to him was just herself. Not just her body, but her care too. He felt it flowing from her now. Everything.
‘No,’ he muttered as that most vulnerable part of his soul shrank from the burn of her tenderness.
But she rested her head on his shoulder and wouldn’t let him go. ‘I won’t hurt you,’ she whispered.
He should have scoffed at that soft promise, should have teased—as if she could?
Instead he closed his eyes and wished he could believe her.
CHAPTER TWELVE
ALVARO SLOWLY STIRRED the risotto, taking the time to make it creamy and rich and telling himself everything was just fine. It was only Christmas. Only a day in which there’d been a few smiles, a lot of sex, few words spoken. And what were words, after all? Mere moments that vanished with the next breath.
But he couldn’t believe the words he’d uttered today. He never thought about his past, let alone raked it up and told someone else of that miserable, lonely rejection. But, he rationalised as he swirled figures of eight with the wooden spoon, she was about the one person in the world he could trust. A queen—keeper of total calm and self-containment. She was ultra-discreet in her own life and so wary of exposing anything to anyone for fear of it being splashed across the media. She was resolute. And he res
pected her for that even though it annoyed him on an intimate level. But he knew he didn’t need to worry that she wouldn’t keep his past private. His knowledge of her true identity was the secret that bound them both to confidence.
So it wasn’t a fear of someone else knowing. No. The mistake he’d made ran deeper than some mere switch or even some mere affair. And it was more dangerous. Somehow her knowing, her seeing him, her soothing him had struck a vein within. And now that vein wanted to bleed even more.
The raw exposure was hideously uncomfortable. The irony was he’d wanted to tell her at the time. At the time it had actually felt good. He’d felt a deep peace after for all of...what...all of the time you had her in your arms.
For the first time in his life he’d fallen asleep on Christmas Day—slept half the afternoon away, like a damn baby. Cuddling her. And when he’d finally stirred, she was still there. She’d lifted her head and smiled at him and he’d done the only thing he possibly could.
He’d kissed her. Silencing, not just her, but the voice in his head telling him he didn’t deserve it...that he shouldn’t allow it...because that other part of him, that long-ignored, tiny, tiny part was more desperate than anything for it to happen. For him to take what she offered. All she offered. Again and again like a glutton, because he’d been deprived too long. Like the damaged, undeserving man he was.
And for as long as he was touching her, it had been okay. But now? Now there was something akin to panic. But he couldn’t suck it back. He couldn’t untell her everything. He couldn’t cut off the connection that had somehow been forged.
It doesn’t matter.
Because she was leaving. And this would end. She was the queen of a small country on the other side of the world. They would have nothing to do with each other again after she returned home in only a few short days. This was merely an interlude for them both.
But now, as he reminded himself of that, his panic magnified.
He should end it now. But he couldn’t. He shouldn’t have let any of this happen and yet he still couldn’t resist, still couldn’t refuse himself these moments.
He carried two bowls of the risotto up to the tower. She was curled in a chair up there, looking out at the coastline as the sky began to darken and the beacon began its work. Her smile was quick when she saw him and he desperately needed distraction before he sank to his knees and spilled out the rest of his soul to her. Somehow she knew. She made light jokes about the juxtaposition of cheap candy and rich chocolate. And in the end there was nothing he could do but haul her close again. He was determined to expend every ounce of this desire. But no matter how many hours he spent with her in his arms it deepened still. Even when, beyond exhaustion, he still wanted her close.
It seemed the guy could do everything. He wasn’t just strong and skilled, he was thoughtful—treating her to gourmet cakes and trashy take-out food, then cooking her a beautiful dinner. Making her move, making her laugh. And finding out the heartache he’d suffered had only made her appreciate his strength even more. The loneliness and the rejection that had given him such drive made her ache to her bones.
But he’d built a world for himself. He had not just a career but a whole company and ambition beyond. He’d made this his sanctuary, his security. She understood he needed freedom and independence. But in reality, he’d cemented his own isolation. Having glimpsed his background, she understood why. The problem—and it was her problem—was that she’d fallen in love with him. Deeply, completely in love with him.
She waited for a while—letting herself float through the next two days—hoping this emotion was just a wave of hype and hormones, a feeling that would pass like any other given enough space and time. Jade was used to managing emotions, she knew how to live with deep ones, how to keep them secret, how to mask them.
But this? This was too big, too raw, too unwieldy. She couldn’t contain this; couldn’t stop this; couldn’t cope with it for too much longer. And while she knew he wanted her, he didn’t need her. And she certainly didn’t think he loved her. He was too controlled for that.
And even if he did, this couldn’t go anywhere.
She needed to do what was best not just for her country. But for him too. And in this instance, yes, her own desires had to come behind his.
She couldn’t ask him to live a life of restriction and duty in the way she had to. She couldn’t ask him to sacrifice so much. He’d resent her eventually—as her mother had resented her father. And no way could they maintain a long-distance relationship either. She’d lived through separation with Juno and it was too hard to have someone you loved so far away for so much of the time. It would hurt her heart too badly.
So it was better to be over completely. And as soon as possible.
The conversation between them stayed light, but terribly fragile. It was as if he, too, was determined to make the most of these moments here. They walked on the beach, laughed about little unimportant things. Mostly they made love like wild animals every moment they could.
And the next morning, it happened.
‘Do you mind if we don’t drive back to Manhattan?’ Alvaro said.
Her bruised heart lifted. ‘What did you want to do?’
Did he want to escape somewhere else? Or stay here for ever? Either way she’d have said yes in a heartbeat.
‘It’s faster if we fly,’ he explained.
Her heart plummeted. So stupid. She’d known it was coming. Because despite their physical connection, she’d felt him pulling back personally. She had too. They’d had no discussion of his past since Christmas Day, not hers either.
Light and easy. Remember? Light and easy and so very fragile.
It wasn’t a long drive to the nearest town and a helicopter charter service there. It wasn’t long in the air either. But every second passed like sixty—amplifying the time she had to think. And all the while certainty sank like a lead stone in the lake of her churning stomach acid.
There was only one course of action. She had to go home. She had to say goodbye to him now. Anything difficult was best done sticking-plaster-style—ripping it off in one swift motion. In this case, she decided, it was the only way.
From the helicopter port, Alvaro collected a car. She didn’t know if he was planning to take her back to his apartment or not, but she knew she had to speak up. Now.
‘Can you take me back to Juno’s?’ she asked as he started the engine. ‘I have a couple of things there that I need.’
‘Sure, we can go now. It won’t take long.’
His easy-going accommodation of her request made her grit her teeth. The drive was familiar now. Her heart raced but she remained cool on the exterior.
As soon as he’d pulled over opposite Juno’s apartment she drew in a deep breath.
‘Alvaro, I’m going home.’
‘You are home.’
‘I mean to Monrova. Tonight.’
He killed the engine and swivelled to face her, his eyes wide. ‘You’re leaving New York tonight?’ He looked stunned. ‘I thought you had another couple of days—’
‘I need to get back to Monrova. Something has...’
She trailed off; she couldn’t bring herself to lie to him completely.
‘Something has...?’ he prompted. ‘What something? It’s not like you’ve had any calls—’ He gazed at her intently.
She glimpsed emotion in his face. A flash of anger, swiftly smoothed by determined acceptance.
‘That’s it?’ he said. ‘That’s all you can say?’
But she saw the bitterness of self-blame in his eyes. It was as if he’d expected it all along. And of course he would—she was always going to leave.
But not this soon.
They both knew that. And he took the reason, she realised, to be himself. That this was somehow his fault. She understood why he’d think it—it was what she would t
hink too. Two people who’d been hurt before. Who’d blamed themselves before.
Regret burned the back of her throat. Too late she realised she’d just hurt him. In a way that hadn’t needed to happen. He’d done nothing wrong; it wasn’t him. Suddenly she couldn’t leave without telling him her truth. Couldn’t let him think she didn’t care. Because she did.
Alvaro had been right when he’d said she needed to put herself first sometimes and say what she wanted. But really, he’d meant in sex. He’d not meant for them to become emotionally intimate. But they had. And in that too she needed to be brave.
More than that, she needed to do what was right.
She gripped the car door handle. She had to tell him. She couldn’t let him think he wasn’t wanted. And she couldn’t hold back her own truth. Even though it would change nothing that could happen, it might help him understand. There would be the slightest soothing of her soul too—and hopefully his—just from the power of knowledge.
‘I can say more,’ she said tightly.
He didn’t respond; he just stared at her as if he’d seen Medusa and been turned to stone.
‘I have more to say.’ Courage began flowing through her veins. ‘I have to go now, Alvaro. You want to know why?’
‘You’ve already said why. It’s something.’
She nodded. ‘It’s you.’
His eyes dilated.
‘Well, to be more correct, it’s my feelings for you.’
He was utterly still but already she saw it in his gaze—the denial.
She’d always put duty before desire; protocol before the personal. But her reticence in sharing anything, in admitting anything, in asking for anything, had been more than so-called duty. In essence she’d always been afraid. Scared that if she said what she really wanted she’d lose what she loved most. That she’d be sent away—as her mother and her sister had been. But she was leaving now anyway. And speaking her truth wasn’t just for him, but for herself too.
The Queen's Impossible Boss (The Christmas Princess Swap, Book 2) Page 15
