The answer to why I’ve hidden away is right here in my teenage handwriting. They didn’t want me and I didn’t want to be rejected again.
I lay down and accepted it . . . for too long.
What would a fighter do?
I close the book and hug it to me.
I can hear my father telling me that no one is better than anyone else. That the only way to overcome a fear is to face it.
I can do this on my own.
I don’t need Jana to make friends for me.
I don’t need her to show me how I can make a difference in the world.
I hug the book tighter.
I’m going to find my mother’s family and see for myself how they feel about me.
That’s my new plan.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Brice
I’m boarding a private jet a few days later, and pause to look back across the airfield. I hate the idea of leaving without seeing Savannah again. Without apologizing one more time.
Charles is right behind me. “Are we not leaving?”
I sigh. “We’re leaving.”
He chuckles.
I glare at him and continue on into the jet. I settle into a seat, and he takes the one across from me. He says something to me, but my thoughts are with Savannah. I called her—she didn’t answer. Not so much as a text in response.
She made her choice.
We’re in the air before I pull my attention from buildings that are getting smaller and smaller the higher we go. I hope Savannah finds what she came to Boston for.
I smile as I remember the first time we met. It’s hard to believe the woman who had strode away from me at the warehouse, the one who’d left me standing there with my heart in her hand, was the same one I’d first thought was a lost homeless person. Every single day with her had been full of the unexpected . . . and I hadn’t meant to get so involved, but the pull of her had been irresistible.
I rub my forehead with disgust as I remember how I practically chased her around Boston. I never would, but if I ever did share the story with my friends, no one would believe me. There has always been a steady supply of willing women—and if I ever came across a woman who wasn’t interested, I don’t remember the experience. I certainly haven’t cared enough to pursue any of them.
Was it because I felt she needed someone to protect her?
Was it her yearning to better herself that called to a part of me that wanted the same for myself? Two very different people, each trying to find their footing.
She said she wasn’t ready to meet me. What does she think isn’t already incredible about her, because I haven’t found anything.
She’s resilient.
Brave.
Funny as hell.
Does she think she isn’t polished enough? I would have fucked her in that stinky coat of hers. How she tangled me up on the inside had nothing to do with if her hair was styled and highlighted.
“Coffee, Your Highness?” a member of the royal staff asked.
I decline with a shake of my head. We aren’t even back in Calvadria, and my needs are already being anticipated. In Bachelor Tower, I definitely took advantage of the housekeeping and dinner service, but it was nice to put something down and not have it instantly put away.
I enjoy walking into situations where people are not predisposed to agree with me. It forces me to sharpen my awareness of others and what they want. In a few hours, I’ll be once again surrounded by people who will tell me every idea I have is brilliant.
Not my family. They’ll warn me not to bring the wildness of my partying home.
I glance across at Charles.
And not him. He doesn’t tell me what I want to hear.
I remember bursting into tears once when I skinned my knee. I’d been walking on a stone wall while my tutor quizzed me on math facts. Charles had taken me aside and told me a prince doesn’t cry in public. Never. Did I want my tutor to respect me? Did I want the staff to? Then I had to be strong.
I didn’t tell my mother what he’d said. She would have told me crying was perfectly fine. My father would have fired the tutor for putting me in danger in the first place. Mathias would have promised to watch over me. My little sister, Bianca, would have cried with me.
Not Charles. He told me the truth, even when it wasn’t easy to hear. Tutors often gossip, and although our people were still loyal to the royal family, they wouldn’t remain so if they perceived us as weak and incapable. They trusted us to maintain our borders, our economy, even our social stability.
I’ve never seen Mathias cry. I wonder if someone gave him the same talk.
“Bricelion,” Charles says, pulling my attention back to him, “when you first said you wanted to spend time in the United States without anyone knowing who you are, I hoped it would be a humbling experience for you. I had no idea I’d be flying home with a beaten pup.”
My shoulders flex and I sit up straighter. “I didn’t lose, Charles. I won. I’m an equal partner of Nintech, and we’ll be moving the headquarters to Calvadria. The financial benefits to this union outweigh what any arranged marriage could. Mathias is free.”
Charles nods. I expected him to at least look surprised by the news, but he doesn’t. “Mathias may honor the announcement out of a sense of duty, but at least you’ve provided him with an option.”
“Yes.”
“What you’ve done is truly impressive, Bricelion. It has changed the course of our country.”
“Then why have I never felt worse?” I hit my thigh with a fisted hand.
“Love is a double-edged sword. It can bring joy, but it cuts deep.”
“Love?” I dismiss the idea with a grunt. “Impossible. A week ago I didn’t know her. I’m homesick, that’s all. I’m sure I won’t remember her name by the time we land.”
Charles doesn’t look impressed by my claim. “Did you attempt to contact her before we left?”
“I did.”
“And that’s it?”
Now I’m confused. “You didn’t approve of my interest in her. Didn’t you suggest I should protect her from myself as well? I clearly remember you saying it was time for us to go home.”
“I said all that. I’m just surprised you listened to me.”
I look out the window of the jet without speaking for several minutes. Outside of my family, there is no one I trust more than the man across from me. “She wasn’t ready, Charles. You were right; she’s putting herself back together after losing her grandmother. I thought I could help her, but I was becoming the reason she might fail. I couldn’t do that to her.”
I take out my laptop.
Charles closes his eyes and reclines as if he might nap. “Did you tell her you’re a prince?”
His question takes me by surprise. “No. It didn’t seem relevant.”
Leaving without her was hard.
Having her suddenly change her mind about being with me—solely based on my title would have been tougher to swallow.
After a pause, I add, “My family doesn’t know about Savannah. I’d like to keep it that way.”
“Of course.”
“Do we still have anyone in Boston?”
“We do. I thought it was prudent to maintain a presence since you’ll likely be returning for business.”
It makes sense. My next request, possibly not so much. “Have them watch over her. Nothing obvious or intrusive. Just have them available in case she gets into any trouble.”
He watches me from beneath mostly closed lids. “Will you be expecting reports?”
“Not unless she gets herself into a situation that requires assistance. Then I want to ensure it’s handled appropriately.”
“Appropriately?”
I’m still working out what that means as well. I take a stab at it. “She shouldn’t know we’re involved. I’d rather have her believe her luck has turned around.”
“So let’s say she gets a flat tire, our men are Good Samaritans who stop to assis
t?”
His question puts me on the defensive. “Just for a short time, until she’s established in Boston with a network of friends.”
“Okay,” Charles says then closes his eyes again. “I’m proud of you, Bricelion. You’ve become the man I hoped you’d grow to be.”
I like that he didn’t say the prince. Boston wasn’t about that.
Later that evening, I’m standing beside the lit fireplace in the receiving room of my family’s countryside castle. We’ve shared a formal meal over which, per norm, very little of importance had been discussed. The staff was ever-present, and one learned at an early age to hold private conversations for times that were—private.
My father is seated in his favorite chair, reading on his tablet.
My mother is similarly occupied.
Bianca sighs loudly, clearly having something she wants to say. Being the youngest in this family and the only girl is a burden she doesn’t appreciate carrying. As protective as my father is of Mathias and me, it’s Bianca that has been the most sheltered. Or so my parents believe.
“What is it?” I ask, as she sighs again. “What’s the problem?”
“I’m just wondering if you enjoyed your trip?” Her voice has a sharp edge. She’s not happy for me or curious about my travels. She’s mad she’s not been allowed to do the same.
“I was working,” I remind her. “It wasn’t the least bit exciting.”
“Sure.” She snaps closed the book she was reading and places it down on the table by me.
“Mother I’m going to meet up with my friends at the barn. If that’s not too far for me to go.”
She gets only a nod in return to her clear sarcasm.
“I did miss you,” I offer, shooting her a look as she sweeps her long hair off her shoulder.
“Yeah, it was way too quiet around here without you arguing with Father.” That was her version of I missed you too.
I’ll take it.
Mathias is hovering. I told him I have an announcement but refused to give him a clue as to what it pertains to.
Now I’m gathering my thoughts, choosing my words carefully. Suggesting a break in tradition might meet with resistance. I don’t want my father to make the marriage a matter of honor, or Mathias won’t consider not going forward with the engagement.
“Did I mention I ran into one of Princess Kalisa’s friends while I was in Spain?” I direct the question to Mathias but ask in a voice loud enough for our parents to hear.
“No, you didn’t,” Mathias answers. “You sped off to the States before saying much of anything about Spain.”
“She told me the princess is heartbroken. She’s been dating someone she met at university before her parents informed her of the arranged marriage.”
“And that’s why women don’t belong at university,” my father says without looking up from his tablet.
Mathias and I both groan.
Our mother throws a pillow at him.
He catches the pillow and places it on the floor beside his chair. “I’m merely saying the old ways are difficult for those who are exposed to other cultures.”
“Perhaps because some of our traditions are outdated?” I counter gently. It’s a delicate subject of too much importance to rush.
“Perhaps,” our father concedes. He sighs and lowers his tablet. “The world is much different than when your mother and I wed. I understand the choices we made are less palatable today, but the prosperity of Calvadria depends on alliances with our neighbors. Mathias understands that. Princess Kalisa does as well. With time, they may grow to love each other as your mother and I have.”
Our mother purses her lips before saying, “I would not trade my life or my family. Your father is right, love came to us. But it took time, and we were lucky. Not all unions have been as blessed.”
“It’s a shame there isn’t a viable alternative,” I muse aloud.
Mathias squares his shoulders. “I accept my role without complaint, and Princess Kalisa and I have been friends since childhood. I will do my best to make it a happy union for her.”
I move to sit in a chair beside my father. “There are whispers that their family and their country is not as stable and wealthy as it once was. Kalisa’s father has not moved forward with the times and in his stubbornness has squandered much of their wealth. Mathias’s freedom is a high price to pay for what might prove to be very little gain. If only there was another way to boost our economy. Something more sustainable.”
My father waves a hand skyward. “From your mouth to God’s ears. Our population is double what it was when I was a child. When Mathias takes the throne, he will be challenged with addressing that concern as well as many others. Too many of our citizens cling to farming and producing exports that can be made cheaper elsewhere. It might be time, Mathias, to court the technology industry. Sadly, it’s the future for all of us.”
“Funny that you say that Father, because I didn’t go to the United States to party . . .”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Savannah
The noise of the city doesn’t bother me anymore. I hardly hear the grinding engines of buses or the honking of angry horns. The buildings feel smaller every day. I turn a corner and rather than being lost, I join up with the herd of people as naturally as if I’d always been a part of them. I navigate the T with ease. Tuck high heels into my purse so I can slip into them seamlessly when I reach my destination. The corner deli knows my order and gets it ready when they see me get in line.
I have friends. Female friends. Go figure.
I used to think I wanted to be the kind of woman who went from man to man without care or shame. I’m still a virgin, but I no longer mind. The more time I spend with women who have husbands and children, the more I realize I want that.
At first, I judged myself for that desire. Did it mean I didn’t want to be more? Claire and Ronda have helped me see there is no right or wrong. I’m not living my life to impress anyone else. I’m living for me.
It’s okay to live on my terms. It’s not a crime to want to be loved.
That doesn’t mean I’m not happy. I am. I’m carving out my place in this world.
I’ve extended the lease on my apartment. Started classes at BU. And I’m the lead phone agent at a child services hotline. I love clothes, but my closet has balance now. Yes, I have nice dresses, but I also have jeans and workout clothes. I’m finally comfortable in my own skin.
Brice still lingers in my thoughts. Often at the oddest times. I took a shortcut through a park one evening. The sun went down earlier than I thought it would. I’m never nervous about being out at night, but I watch the news enough to know Boston isn’t as safe as Coppertop. I was walking at a brisk pace when I felt like someone else was there. When I turned, no one was. Ridiculous as it sounds, I feel like Brice is still watching over me.
And it’s nice. In my imagination, I have my own guardian angel.
My phone fell out of my pocket one day. I thought it happened while I was jogging, but the doorman said someone found it right outside the door and turned it in. In jest, I said, “Thanks, Brice.”
Ronda says I need to forget him. She has a list of men she says she can set me up with. I might take her up on that offer one day, but for now I’m concentrating on me.
Claire still thinks there’s a chance I’ll hear from Brice again. I’m not holding my breath. Turning him down wasn’t easy, but it still feels like the right decision. My head was spinning back then. I didn’t know what I wanted, and I needed time to figure that out.
I don’t blame him for not waiting around.
I still smile every time I remember how he popped up everywhere and how crazy it made me. I wanted to strangle him for going to Jana. It took me a while to forgive him for that, but now I see that he did me a favor.
I didn’t need her.
I did this on my own and that feels pretty damn good.
Good enough that I reached out to my family—an act that brin
gs me here. I settle into a booth in an Italian restaurant.
A man approaches the table. “Savannah?” Dark hair. Dark eyes. He looks like the photos he sent me.
“Joel?” I ask, scanning his face as he takes a seat across from me. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” I connected with him online a few weeks ago.
“You look so much like my mom.” Joel’s eyes go wide as he takes in my features. “I didn’t know our grandmother, but you lived with her?”
“I did. You and I met, but you were probably too small to remember. Your mother came to my father’s funeral. I bet you were only four.”
He shrugs apologetically. “Yeah, I don’t remember. Sorry.”
“It’s all right. She was coming to meet me. Or that was the plan. I was supposed to go back to Connecticut with you and your family.”
“Really? What happened?”
“She must not have liked what she saw.” I sniffle back the emotion. It’s not Joel’s fault; he was a child.
He drops his head down. “My mother was crazy protective. She said your father was a violent man.”
“He wasn’t,” I defended. “He was a good man who did something terrible while trying to do something good. To me, he was a hero.”
He nods. It’s not an easy conversation to have. “My mother died a few years ago. Cancer. She mentioned you once at the end. I think she felt guilty she wasn’t there when you were born. She wanted to take you then, but your father wanted to raise you. When she met you, she thought you were too old . . . too . . .”
“Damaged,” I say the word in a whisper.
He doesn’t deny it. “Her opinion of your father was jaded. She didn’t know anyone who’d ever been arrested, never mind gone to jail. It wasn’t part of our life. I guess she was afraid that you might—”
I snort. “Infect you?”
He shrugs, and I remind myself he isn’t the one who rejected me. He’s being honest with me, and I’m grateful for that, even if it hurts.
“How do you feel?” I ask.
His smile reassures me. “I like the idea of having a cousin.”
Now I’m smiling. “Me too.”
Undeniable Bachelor (Bachelor Tower Series Book 3) Page 19