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Off-Limits to the Crown Prince

Page 17

by Kali Anthony


  ‘Come to the studio.’

  That was her war room, where she usually felt competent and safe. Though everything seemed a risk to her right now. Once again, Alessio was her greatest danger, and yet she still wanted to poke her fingers into the fire and be burned. But she’d remind them both of her place in his life.

  ‘I should thank you for the payment, even though you went against my wishes.’

  ‘I took two weeks of your time. It was the least I could do.’

  The least he could do... The pain of that morning roared back in a rush and she couldn’t hold it in. She didn’t care any more, striding right up to him, invading his space. Wanting to push him away and hold on tight, all at the same time. The burn of tears pricked at her eyes, but she was done crying. Too many tears had been shed over him already.

  She planted her hands on her hips. Better than reaching out to touch.

  ‘I would have walked away, at the end of it all. After those two weeks, I would have stepped onto a plane and you would never have heard from me again.’ As much as her heart had rebelled at the time, it was what she would have done because he was looking for someone other than her. Because she loved him and that was what you were supposed to do when you loved something: you set it free. ‘But you cheapened everything. Turned something beautiful into something dirty.’

  ‘I know. Only one of us was acting like an adult that day. I hurt you intentionally.’

  She bit on her lower lip, hoping the sting might take her mind off the pain his admission caused.

  ‘Is that what this is, a kind of sorry? You didn’t need to fly all the way here. You could have sent a card. My deepest apologies for being a jerk. Maybe some flowers as a final kind of blow-off.’

  Alessio stood there. Immaculate. Impassive. Taking what she gave. Even though he appeared a little careworn, it only added to his underlying appeal.

  ‘I’ll never forgive myself for how I treated you. I was afraid of what I felt but the coward in me chose to believe I meant no more to you than the money I could provide. That’s my issue. I shouldn’t have cheapened the most treasured time of my life because of fear, when the perpetrator of the press leak was closer to home.’

  ‘Who talked?’ Alessio trusted everyone in the palace. He had assured her that what they had could be kept secret. And yet someone had betrayed him. It had to hurt for a man like Alessio, that misplaced confidence. She saw the cracks in his façade then, not only the two-day growth and tired eyes, but also his slightly paler skin. The tightness around his mouth. All of him looking older and more deeply etched than before.

  ‘Stefano.’

  It was as if a rock had settled in the pit of her stomach. She almost reached out to him, to comfort. But Alessio hadn’t wanted her before, and if he pushed her away again she might never recover. There were some memories she wouldn’t allow to become any more tainted.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ She meant it. She understood betrayal from someone she should have been able to trust too. ‘Did he say why?’

  Alessio might have been cruel to her but she wouldn’t be the same to him. She was better than that. He walked over to the battered table holding her paint, brushes and palette.

  ‘His intentions were good, but misplaced. And yet I can’t find it in my heart to blame him.’ He mindlessly sorted through the tubes of paint. Picked one up. ‘Alizarin Crimson. The colour of righteous anger.’

  He might have smiled then. Something about him seemed to lighten for a moment, the hint of his lips turning up at the corners. It softened him, like a dry brush smudging over the sharp edges of a painted line.

  ‘You remembered,’ she said. A door inside her that should have been locked tight opened a fraction. But they wanted different things, didn’t they? He’d told her from the beginning. Yet her silly heart simply craved to beat to a singular rhythm.

  Alessio’s.

  ‘I remember everything. I can’t forget. But I’m not good at the words for this.’ He took off his coat, tossed it on the worn couch. Loosened his tie, as if he was going into a battle of another kind. An emotional one. ‘I don’t know how to be anything other than the Prince of Lasserno. It’s all I was trained for. Then I received the portrait and drawings. And I finally saw myself through your eyes. I want to be that man. The one in the picture. I want to be that man, for you.’

  Everything stopped. The silence, as if the universe waited and yet she couldn’t quite fathom the words.

  ‘What are you saying?’

  ‘Do I have a chance to make this right?’

  All colour in the world flooded back in a rush, as though things were too bright, too real. But the threat of his words crept up like some choking vine round her throat. That this couldn’t work, that dreams didn’t come true. Yet when she looked at him, all she saw on his face was hope. And her choice became clear. Saying no meant fear had won. Hannah was tired of losing that battle. She’d been afraid for long enough. It meant there was only one answer to give. So she let that hope fill her and overflow as she prepared to say one simple word.

  ‘Yes.’

  * * *

  Yes. That single syllable went off like a bomb in Alessio’s head, shattering everything. A chance. A fragile chance to repair what he’d broken. Build anew. She stood before him like a warrior. Tall. Proud. Putting him to shame. In her worn jeans with rips at the knees that perhaps hung a bit more loosely than the last time he’d seen her in them. Her hair in a messy topknot, strands falling about her face. Her green eyes flashing bright and vibrant, a warning to him that nothing here was certain. And yet he knew today was about laying his soul bare for her to trample on as she saw fit, even if it meant he lost the precious chance she’d granted him. Now was the time to be brave. As brave as her.

  ‘I love you, Hannah.’ Those words ground out of him, though easier than expected because they were his deepest truth. The root of all things good in his life. Her eyes widened a fraction, her hands clenched. He didn’t know what those things meant, but he carried on regardless. She deserved these words; she should have nothing less. ‘From the moment I saw you here I knew you were a danger to me, so to ruin any chance with you I was unspeakably cruel. But that doesn’t change the real truth. There is only you.’

  Her eyes gleamed a little brighter. Tears? What he wouldn’t give to hold her, to tell her it would all be okay, but he couldn’t, because he was the cause of her suffering.

  ‘What about your perfect princess?’

  ‘I’ve spent too long setting standards of perfection that were impossible for me to meet. I don’t want some perfect princess. I need the woman who captured my heart.’

  She turned and walked to the window, staring outside into the rambling cottage garden, bright and beautiful in the English summer. Her hand reached up to her face, swiping at it.

  ‘You hurt me. Claiming you now love me isn’t a free pass.’ Her voice was almost a whisper. The ache in it clawed at him, his own pain at what he’d done to her well deserved. His cross to bear. Alessio walked towards her, close enough to comfort if she eventually accepted it, far enough to give her the space she obviously needed.

  ‘I know. All I’ve ever seen of love is that it brings pain. It seemed to be a poisoned thing. What I failed to realise is the great joy it can bring as well. I want to repair what I’ve done here, even if you can’t love me back.’

  Her shoulders hunched. She wrapped her arms round herself, as if she were trying to hold all the pain in. He hated that he’d done this. Failed the person he cared for the most.

  ‘The problem is I can’t stop loving you.’

  He shut his eyes, giving a quiet thank-you to the heavens. It was as if everything that had been knotted up tight began to loosen. She loved him. She still loved him. His responsibility now was even greater than before. To honour her the way he should have from the beginning.

  ‘I want to take the
pain away by loving you back. Fiercely and for ever.’

  Hannah turned, her eyes pink-rimmed. It was all he could do not to reach out and hold her, but he didn’t have permission for that, not yet. She held out her hands in front of her, looked down at them. Splayed her fingers. The light from the window behind bathed her in an ethereal glow. She looked like a beautifully flawed angel.

  ‘I’m pretty sure princesses don’t have paint-stained hands.’

  He feared he’d been the one to make her unsure about this, about herself, when he’d witnessed her being more regal than most royalty he’d ever met. Being a mere princess was beneath her. If he could make her a queen, he would.

  ‘A princess can have whatever she wants. What I want is the artist who painted the portrait of the man now hanging in my bedroom. The man I should have aspired to be all these years. Not a prince, but a man in love. That love is what makes me a better person. There is no one other than you, Hannah. There never will be. The question is whether you want me for ever in return. And I’m prepared to wait. However long it takes.’

  She looked up at him, eyes wide and sad and yet still tinged with hope, because it was all either of them had left. Hope that each would take a chance on the other, to build something towering and great, that could withstand anything life threw at them.

  ‘What if however long is right now?’

  He couldn’t help the smile that broke out on his face, the fire of blazing happiness that lit inside. That she wanted him, that he was enough. The weight of the world rose from his shoulders. A lightening in his soul.

  ‘Then I’ll immediately accept whatever you allow. I don’t expect your trust, perhaps not for years. But I’ll fight for it each day. For you to be by my side. As my wife, my princess, my artist, my everything. You already own all my heart. Let me give you my whole world.’

  She took a step towards him. ‘You have my trust now. I’m not risking my heart for just anyone.’

  Alessio opened his arms and Hannah walked right into them. He tightened them round her, soaking in her warmth, relishing in the feel of her body against his. His love. His heart. His home. She tilted her head up, her lips parted. He dropped his mouth to hers, the kiss coaxing, loving, saying in his gentle way what he had trouble verbalising. That he loved her more than words could ever express.

  ‘It’s no risk, bella.’ That was his vow and promise, from this moment forward. ‘I will cherish and care for your precious heart for ever.’

  EPILOGUE

  ALESSIO STROLLED THROUGH the doorway of the pavilion where Hannah now had her studio. The afternoon sun filtered like a patchwork through the windows, warming the space. She didn’t look up at him as he entered. He loved that about her...her absolute focus when absorbed by her art.

  No words were necessary to describe the love they shared, even in those moments. As she’d begun painting his coronation portrait he’d sat for her, stretches of blissful silence where he could watch her work. The concentration. She had it now, a tiny frown plaguing her forehead, as if something about the canvas troubled her. Something about him, since she was still working on his picture.

  ‘I worry about you down here—it’s too far from the palace.’

  Her frown melted away. She looked up at him and smiled. The joy in it, seeing him, could light up his darkest places. When fear threatened, that he wouldn’t be enough to guide the country through what was ahead of it, she could chase it away with the tilt of her perfect lips. With Hannah, there was no room for anything other than courage, love and trust.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous. It’s only a short stroll and the light’s perfect.’ She rose from the stool on which she’d been sitting and placed her hands on the small of her back, arching in a stretch. The soft fabric of her dress moulded to show off her rounded belly. Four months along and the pregnancy news in his country had reached fever pitch, with speculation over whether the baby would be a boy or a girl and bets being taken. Not even he and Hannah knew. Not yet. They wanted to keep some surprises, and to them it didn’t matter. Either a little prince or princess would fill them with even more happiness, if that were possible.

  He welcomed every moment of the bliss Hannah had brought to his life. A flood of warmth coursed over him. Love, pride. A whole mix that filled every day. He walked towards her, slowly, because she’d banned him from seeing his portrait until she was satisfied with it. He wondered if she ever would be.

  ‘May I look now?’ he asked.

  ‘I think it’s done.’ That little frown was back again. He wanted to wipe it away, but at least the only time she ever seemed uncertain now was with her art. Not about his love, or her role. Never those things. He adored her; his people adored her. The murals she had designed and helped paint at the children’s hospital had cemented Lasserno’s love for its new Princess.

  Even his father had given public praise for Alessio’s choice of bride. Not that Alessio cared, but Hannah and her pregnancy had opened a door to communication that months ago would have seemed insurmountable. Perhaps miracles could happen. Alessio hadn’t put any faith in them till Hannah’s presence in his life made him believe anything was possible, including a truce with his father.

  ‘What are you waiting for?’ Hannah asked. Alessio shook himself out of his introspection. He walked round the canvas on the easel in the middle of the room and saw himself. It was like looking in a mirror. In this picture he sat in his office, surrounded by his ancestors. A magnificent representation of the Prince he’d once striven to be. His honours and regalia pinned to his military jacket. He didn’t care for any of it.

  The only honours he craved now were Hannah’s.

  ‘He seems almost forbidding. Unlike your other portrait.’

  Strange how his perceptions of what his country needed from him had changed with Hannah’s presence in his life, all the hard edges of himself burnished smooth by the love she brought to him. Love he wasn’t afraid of any more. Her love made him strong, not weak.

  ‘The first portrait is of the private man. The one only I’m privileged to see. I’ll keep him all for myself. This one is the Prince your country needs. Strong. Eternal. The greatest prince Lasserno will ever have.’

  That praise filled him. Her love, and how freely she gave it, was boundless. He swooped her up, swung her into his arms. She shrieked, and then started giggling.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Taking this somewhere more comfortable.’

  He moved to the seating area he’d installed in this place. Nothing wanting, for her at least. Every comfort available to her. If this was to be her studio, it had to be perfect. Given the time she spent down here, he hoped it was.

  He placed her gently on the large, soft sofa in the corner. Knelt in front of her. Kissed her pregnant belly. Her hand moved to his head, stroked through his hair. He shut his eyes and savoured her touch. One quiet moment of perfection in an otherwise long day. There had been so many small moments like this and Alessio relished each one.

  When he opened his eyes Hannah’s head tilted to the side, as if she were trying to peer inside him. He could hold no secrets. She owned them all.

  ‘Have you spoken to Stefano?’

  Ah. The one wound that remained unhealed. The only ache that hadn’t gone away. Being more open with the media now, Alessio saw what Stefano had tried to do. Lasserno was happier when shown their leader openly caring. In that way, he’d been right.

  ‘I’ve tried.’

  ‘You’re writing him missives, aren’t you?’

  Hannah knew him too well. In some things, change came slowly. ‘He may not want to speak to the man, but he will answer to his Prince. His family always has. It’s treasonous to do otherwise.’

  ‘Allow him his pride. He’ll answer when the time’s right. Anyway, I don’t answer you a lot of the time. Am I committing treason too?’ Her lips curled into a sultry smile. />
  ‘That’s to my benefit. You remind me I’m only human, and that’s all I have to be.’

  Hannah’s hand drifted to her belly and all he could see was their future, bright and brilliant.

  ‘I love the human side,’ she said.

  Alessio trailed his fingers up her legs and she shivered under his touch, goosebumps peppering her skin. ‘I love it when you’re wearing a skirt.’

  ‘I know.’ Her legs parted and his hands drifted higher, his thumbs circling on her inner thighs, her body pliant as it sank into the softness of the sofa.

  ‘I love it even better when you’re wearing nothing at all,’ he said.

  ‘Rule number two, I seem to remember.’

  ‘What about rule number one?’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘I didn’t promise to obey you when we married. But I did promise to love you.’

  Alessio laughed. There was so much laughter in his life now. Hannah brought it into every day. Yes, there was plenty of work too, but there was still play. She could infuse even the difficult times with a sense of fun.

  ‘I love you,’ he said. Those three words never seemed enough for the bone-deep sentiment they carried. He was aware of the privilege and the trust she’d shown him by saying yes. Alessio ensured she knew it every day, so there could be no doubt she’d made the right choice in choosing him.

  She cupped his face and the look she gave him could have cut him off at the knees, so it was good that he was kneeling right now. Her eyes were soft, brimming with emotion. So much emotion. He could constantly worship her...it was no trial at all.

 

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