The Princess's Forbidden Lover

by Clare Connelly

  “May I go now?” She asked with ice in her words.

  His expression was impossible to make out. “Sure.”

  Lilah stared at him for several beats, but when he didn’t speak, she rose gracefully from the bed.

  She had begged him to drive the desire and lust from her body; to satiate the need that had been building since she’d left America. But she would not beg him for more than that.

  She had her dignity to think of.

  Lilah pulled her dress on without underwear. She wanted to leave, and to leave quickly. She crossed the room, pausing at the door to cast a final look in his direction.

  If she had been in possession of a crystal ball, might she have paused? Might she even have reconsidered her departure and forgotten her pride?

  Perhaps.

  But Lilah couldn’t have known then what the future held.

  She left without another word.

  Two long days later, when her mind had been able to think of nothing but Will, she had finally stolen some time to return to his room. If they didn’t speak, she’d always feel that they had unfinished business.

  And she’d found it empty.

  Some time after making her love him all over again, Will Wright had disappeared, and Lilah was plunged into the depths of agony and despair.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Even a distraction in the form of a trip away with her new sister-in-law and beautiful little nephew couldn’t drive Will from her mind.

  Where was he?

  While she and Abigail spent day after day in the city palace, skirted by the capital and the ocean, Lilah’s mind was steadfastly back in the main palace.

  In the disused suite of rooms she’d had him moved to.

  In that bed, against that bed, on the balcony.

  Had she ruined it for good?

  Or had he?

  “Lilah? Can I make you a tea?”

  Lilah blinked, shaking her head to clear the image of Will that was burned into her brain. “No, I’m just about to go to bed.” She forced a smile to her lips. “You must be tired after this afternoon. That little master Michael gave us all a fright.”

  Abi winced, her pale blonde hair shimmering as she shook her head. “I suppose I’m just not used to his tantrums.”

  “If he’s anything like my brother is rumoured to have been as a child, you’ll need to get used to them,” Lilah laughed.

  “That’s what Doctor R’izar said.”

  “He would know,” Lilah said with a fondness in her chest for the doctor who had tended to all of their childhood injuries.

  “I’m sorry I bailed on movie night,” Abi said, curling her legs beneath her on the sofa and cradling a tea in her hands. “I just couldn’t concentrate.”

  Lilah’s expression was carefully neutral. “I can understand that.” She flicked at an imaginary piece of lint.

  Abi seemed distracted, but Lilah was not in the most observant frame of mind. She stood and sent a vague smile in her sister-in-law’s general direction. “Good night.” She blew a kiss and strode over the tiles, her shoes clicking noisily as she went.

  Lilah was not sleeping well.

  She tossed and turned every night, her dreams tormented and her mind alert. That night, as the moon was full and high in the heavens, was no excuse.

  She woke early, as though she had a presentiment of disaster. As she reached for her phone, it began to ring. She swiped it without checking who the caller was; after all, only a handful of people had her cell phone number.

  “Hello?”

  There was a small silence and then, “Lilah. It’s me.”

  Will. Had she conjured him from her imagination? Had her dreams brought him to life? She gripped her fingers around the phone and sucked in a deep breath. She ached to pour all the words from the heart of her soul. But she did not.

  “Yes?” She winced at the sound of the single word. It was so final, so cold. Where was her entreaty to him to be reasonable? What if he left the country thinking that she hated him?

  “Have you been online this morning?”

  She blinked, scanning the room. What time was it? “I just woke up,” she said, stalling for time. Her ipad was somewhere. “Why?”

  “There’s an article. No, it’s more like a beat up paparazzi piece.”

  “Oh, no. About us?” Her heart turned over. Kiral would be furious!

  “No, princess. Believe it or not, other people exist in this world besides you.”

  Lilah’s cheeks were white beneath her tan. “I am about two seconds away from hanging up on you.”

  “Wait,” he commanded but she shook her head.

  “Why, Will? So that you can insult me some more? So that you can blow hot and cold and then disappear again?” Tears tinged her words and he heard them with a sinking heart. “I cannot do this anymore. I am so tired.”

  He stared out at the desert and sighed. “I’m leaving you alone, Lilah, just like you wanted.”

  Her chest squeezed painfully. She didn’t want him to leave her alone. His absence was inducing a state of misery. “Why have you called me?”

  There was another pause. “The article is about Abigail. It’s pretty scathing.”

  “Abi?” Lilah pushed her legs out of the bed and scanned the room properly now. The ipad had fallen down beside her armchair. She scooped it up and flicked it to life. “Where is it?”

  He named a gossip site and she loaded it quickly. He stayed on the line as she read the article, her hackles rising indignantly with every single word. The accusations about Abigail, the inference that Kiral was still in love with the woman he had been supposed to marry.

  “None of this is true,” she spat angrily. “Abi is not an unwanted princess! She is adored, by me and my brother.” She continued to read the fabrication. “And we were not fighting when this photograph was taken!” She stabbed at the picture a paparazzi had grabbed the afternoon before. “We were joking about something and Michael was indulging a tantrum. This is all a complete lie.”

  “I presumed as much,” he said softly, closing his eyes and seeing the image as if it was right before him. He’d stared at it long and hard, looking for any sign that Lilah missed him. But there was none. She looked happy and relaxed in the photos that had been printed. She looked … perfect. “But Lilah? If Abigail has seen it, you must comfort her.” He paused, weighing up his words. “I interviewed her the day you left for the city.”

  Lilah shook her head, counting back the dates. “You can’t have. You were gone.” She bit down on her lip. “You left.”

  “I moved into the East wing,” he corrected softly. “It was better that way.”

  Lilah’s breathing was ragged. “You mean to tell me you were still in the palace?”

  “Yeah.”

  She closed her eyes. “You didn’t want to see me that badly that you hid?”

  “No good can come from torturing each other.” He cleared his throat. “It doesn’t do justice to how I once felt for you.”

  How I once felt for you. The words were daggers to her heart.

  “In any event,” he continued clunkily. “When I spoke to Abigail, I felt a fragility within her that worried me. It was clear she was struggling to adjust to life as Emira. I think you need to be on the watch for how this piece of junk affects her.”

  “Of course.” Lilah placed the iPad down and sat on the edge of the bed. “I’ll talk to her.”

  The silence was heavy between them, but neither wanted to sever the call. “Will?”

  He swallowed. “Yeah, princess?”

  She shook her head at the term. “I wish … if things were different.”

  “Yeah, sure.” He cleared his throat. “Catch you later.”

  And with that, the call was ended.

  Lilah brushed aside her own heartache. There would be time – years – to reflect on what she might have done differently. She had the rest of her life to miss Will and wish for him. In that moment, she needed to focus on Abigail. />
  She dressed quickly, pulling a black dress over her head and plaiting her hair over one shoulder. Her attendants would come soon, once they realized she was awake, and she needed to be stealthy. She crept out of her room, enjoying the early morning quiet of the palace. There were sentries marked periodically throughout the corridor but Lilah no longer noticed these men; they were simply a part of the furniture.

  Abigail was not in her room.

  Lilah moved downstairs quickly, her eyes scanning the various sitting rooms and parlours until finally she found her.

  Abi was in the middle of the floor, her legs crossed, staring straight ahead, while Michael played with some Duplo blocks. With a sense of solidarity, she moved to sit beside Abi, and wordlessly put a hand on her knee.

  “You’ve seen it.” Abi’s words were thin. Lilah understood the pain in Abi’s whispered statement because it matched the pain and indignation thrumming through her own heart.

  “It’s a lie.”

  A single tear ran down Abi’s cheek, dropping with a splash to the ground between them.

  “Abi.” Lilah put an arm around her sister’s shoulder, bringing her close to her. “Hush. You must not let a piece such as this upset you. It is a fabrication; an invention to sell stories. You know that! We were not arguing. And you are certainly not unwanted. Michael was having a tantrum. Remember the facts that so easily dispute the basis for this story.”

  “Is Kiral in Assing?” Abi murmured, referring to the country from which his intended princess heralded.

  Lilah bit down on her lip. There was no sense in lying. “I believe so. But he goes there often for business. They are our biggest trade partners.”

  Abi sent Lilah a soft smile then stood. “I’m okay. It’s nothing worse than I expected.” She lifted Michael into her arms and hugged him tight. He made a token protest and then snuggled into his mama’s shoulder, his little arms wrapping around her neck. They’d been a pair for so long that supporting Abi came instinctively to him.

  They made a lovely tableau. Lilah was excluded from it. Theirs was an intimacy unlike any she’d ever known.

  She stood jerkily. “You’re part of this family. You’re my sister. And we both know the article doesn’t change a thing.”

  Abi’s attempt at a smile, while valiant, was pathetic. “Thank you.”

  Lilah had the distinct impression she was being dismissed, as unusual a sensation as that was. She walked out of the room but paused to ask a servant to have tea and fruit taken to Abigail and Michael.

  Lilah dialed the number Will had used to call her; he picked up after one ring. “Lilah.”

  The way he said her name made her blood simmer. She pushed that aside. It wasn’t relevant. “She’s devastated. Will? Kiral needs to fix this. Is he still in Assing?”

  “No.”

  “Then do something. You must get him to fix this.”

  He nodded, then said, “Yeah. I’m meeting Alain shortly. We’re going to talk to him.”

  “My brother will be furious.”

  “As he should be.” Will ran his finger over his boot, his eyes settled far into the distance, towards the palace that housed Lilah and Abigail and the little royal prince. If he thought of such crap being written about Lilah, he would want to strangle the person responsible.

  Lilah’s mouth opened then shut. What more was there to say? “Goodbye.”

  Will could have shouted. “Wait.”

  Lilah did so, clutching the phone tight in her hand, but Will was silent. Eventually, his voice holding a faraway quality, he said, “How are you?”

  “I’m fine.” Was that really her? Sounding so formal and reserved, as though hearing him speak wasn’t ripping her to shreds. “And you?”

  His laugh made her stomach flip. “Yeah. Fine. Goodbye, princess.”

  Lilah threw her phone onto the bed and planted her hands on her hips. She stared at the ocean and she wished, more than anything, that she was across it, faraway, somewhere she could be herself.

  Somewhere she could say how she felt and be honest with Will, and also her brother. She thought of Abi downstairs and her sense of loneliness only increased. Jalilah didn’t have close friends, but now she had a sister. A beautiful, sweet woman who she wanted to get to know better but who was clearly going through her own heartbreak and turmoil despite her recent wedding.

  Lilah looked up when the door clicked open. Her attendants were there, standing with faces wiped of any emotion as they swept into the room and began to neaten and tidy. Thalia, her maid, lifted the outfit that had been prepared for Jalilah the night before, from a hanger.

  “It’s fine,” Lilah said in her own tongue. “I’m dressed.”

  Thalia turned, scanning Lilah’s ensemble with obvious doubt. The black dress was simple and casual; hardly fitting for a princess. “I’m not going anywhere today,” Lilah said softly. “Nor seeing anyone beyond my sister and nephew. I need not wear that.” She nodded towards the beige, jeweled gown and turned. On automatic pilot, she took the seat at the dressing table and waited while two of Thalia’s assistants began to style her hair and place the minimum of make up on her face. It was a ritual that she was used to and yet it increasingly angered her.

  Lilah, a twenty four year old woman, was perfectly capable of doing her own hair and make up. Did she really need to be pandered over like some hopeless, pathetic moron? Ditto choosing what clothes she was going to wear. Surely she was capable of consulting her diary and selecting appropriate attire for whichever events she had scheduled?

  A spark of frustration began to build into a bonfire. She needed to speak to Kiral. The doting and servitude of so many attendants had to cease. Lilah deserved a say in her own life. She deserved to make choices about how she existed. Why hadn’t she ever felt that before? Why had she been so happy to fall in with every little thing that was suggested of her?

  She stared at herself in the mirror as three women tended to her, a spirit of angry defiance settling around her shoulders.

  It wasn’t just about having a say in her life. She wanted her own life. A real life! Sure, she was a princess, and she knew that there were obligations and responsibilities inherent to that station.

  She heard the royal helicopter as it flew over the city and she knew Kiral would be on board. She fixed Thalia with a smile and nodded. “That’s fine. That will do. Thank you.”

  “But your shoes …”

  “I can get my own shoes,” she muttered, pinning the smile more firmly in place. “And Thalia? I won’t need you ladies for the rest of the day.” A frown puckered between her brows. “I intend to have you reassigned.”

  Thalia blanched and her hands began to shake. She instructed the younger women to leave the room and then bowed low and neatly before Jalilah. “I beg your pardon, your majesty, but have we displeased you in some fashion?”

  Lilah suppressed a sigh. “No, not at all.”

  Thalia looked confused and Lilah felt the first stabbing of guilt. “I shall speak to my brother and be sure he knows you have all performed your duties excellently. It is only that I wish for more … autonomy now than I used to have.”

  “Autonomy.” Thalia nodded. “Very well, madam.”

  She left the room and Lilah slipped her feet into a pair of heels before following after them. The helicopter would have landed on the roof. She walked quickly through the palace until she reached the elevator. She pressed the button impatiently, and it beeped open almost instantly.

  Sure enough, the helicopter was perched on the roof, a sparkling black bird against the crisp blue sky. The rota blades were still whirring; they must have just landed seconds earlier. She watched as her brother jumped from the back doors, his expression grim.

  Her eyes were not fixed on him for long, though. Will appeared at the door behind him, his frame strong and muscled, his eyes scanning the rooftop and landing on her instantly. Lilah had to fight to stop from lifting her hands to her mouth.

  She hadn’t seen him sinc
e that night. Her chest contracted as she remembered what they’d shared in his suite of rooms. The way he’d made her feel! She had not been a princess that night; she had been a woman, and an intensely desirable one.

  He moved with the athleticism she knew came innately to him.

  “Lilah? Where is she?”

  Lilah had to shake herself mentally to bring her focus back to the far more pressing situation at hand. “She is in the palace,” she said vaguely, ashamed to realize she couldn’t have said anything with more certainty.

  Kiral nodded, his face loaded with tension. “How is she?”

  Lilah put her hand on his upper-arm consolingly. “She is upset, Kiral.” Her eyes sought his, trying to understand what he was feeling and wanting. “If you care about her, you must fix this.”

  “You know the article was a ludicrous creation.”

  “I don’t mean only the article.” Lilah’s smile was kind but Kiral could see the condemnation in her eyes. “That woman is miserable, and because of you. I know you, brother. You are kind and you are honourable. Do not punish her for the past.”

  He nodded, but deep down, Kiral had lost any hope of redemption with his bride. “I need to speak to her.”

  “Yes. Go to her.” She stood on tiptoes and pressed a kiss against his cheek. “And Kiral?”

  “Yes?” He was already beginning to move off.

  “I have something to discuss with you too. Something … of vital importance.”

  “Is it about Abi?”

  “No. It can wait. But not for long.”

  He nodded. “Soon.”

  She watched him leave the helipad and then turned slowly. Will was waiting, only a little way from where she stood. How did she not run to him and throw her arms around him? She was aching to feel him. Aching to touch him. But she walked slowly towards him, like some kind of cold-hearted automaton. Lilah felt how she must have looked and she hated it. But that was who she was… who she had been raised to be.

  “Hello,” she said softly, her eyes showing the softness of her heart if the rest of her was incapable of doing so.

  “Hey.” His smile was constrained. He shoved his hands in his pockets and Lilah wondered if he was also tingling to touch her.