He thought over their time together, looking for clues. When had he first begun to succumb to her charms? But he couldn’t see the exact moment. He couldn’t discern it at all and that frustrated him.
Krystiana had looked at him in shock afterwards. Had quickly waded away from him, clambered up the pool steps, apologising all the way.
No matter what had happened, he’d not wanted things to be awkward between them. He’d wanted to put it right. So he’d chased after her and asked her to the ball—as if his mouth had been operating on a different system to his brain.
It hadn’t been his place to invite her, and he hadn’t meant to ask, but he hadn’t been able to bear her running from him like that. He’d wanted to apologise, to put things right, but when she’d turned to face him the invitation had popped out instead.
Matteo pulled the cord that would summon Sergio, and when his servant arrived he asked him to fetch him a canvas and paints. Sergio bowed and disappeared, returning about thirty minutes later with the equipment he needed. Painting the garden had felt good before. Freeing. It had eased his mind and he needed that right now.
He set up the easel out on the sun terrace and thought about how he felt inside. And then, using his fingers, as he had before, he began to daub the surface of the canvas with paint.
He was so carried away with what he was doing he almost didn’t hear the footsteps behind him, and he started somewhat when Sergio spoke.
‘Dr Szenac, Your Majesty.’
Matteo turned, shocked to see her standing there, but he smiled, glad to see her. Glad that she didn’t seem to have been made uncomfortable by what had happened.
‘You caught me. I thought I’d try this thing again.’
She smiled back, but it was brief. Fleeting.
‘That’s good. That you’re getting something from it. Those colours look great, but you were great with them last time, so...’
He could sense she had something to say. ‘Are you all right?’
‘I’m going to leave.’
His heart thudded painfully and the smile dropped from his face. ‘What? Why? Because of what happened in the pool? I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable, I—’
‘I’m going to a hotel. I need to take back control of my life, Matteo. It’s slipping away from me here.’
He didn’t know what to say. Had he caused this? By kissing her? She had to know that it had been an accident. That it wouldn’t happen again.
But those words weren’t said. He couldn’t. It wasn’t as if he was going to beg her to stay. Princes didn’t beg. He had to respect her decision, and it was probably best in the long run anyway. Neither of them needed to get involved.
He felt the need to preserve his dignity and he lifted his chin. ‘When will you go?’
‘Tomorrow morning. I just thought it polite to let you know. As you were so kind as to let me into your home.’
‘It was the right thing...’ There was more he wanted to say but he was struck dumb, the words caught in his throat. He couldn’t say any of them out loud. The one person who soothed his soul, who made him feel he could genuinely smile again, was going because he’d screwed up?
‘It’s for the best. For both of us, I think,’ she said.
He agreed. It was for the best. But he didn’t feel ready. He’d thought he’d still got weeks left with her. Weeks in which they would talk and develop their friendship. In which to get her out of his system. But for her to leave now, so abruptly... Because he’d overstepped a line he’d never intended to cross...
This was why he didn’t get involved with people any more. Relationships got complicated.
‘I’ll always consider you my friend, Krystiana. I hope our...moment hasn’t jeopardised that.’
She shook her head. ‘It hasn’t. I’ve always felt connected to you and I think I always will. It’s been an honour to know you.’
He nodded.
She seemed to want to say something more, but no more words were forthcoming. Was she struggling to speak as much as he? Did she want him to fight for her to stay? Or just to let her go? What do I want?
She nodded a goodbye and walked away.
Matteo swore to himself, his anger and frustration rising. He turned back to his painting, looked at the happy colours, the swirls of green and yellow. His palette lay off to one side and he dipped his hand in black and swept his hand across the canvas. The black cut a swathe through the light—sorrow darkening the joy.
And he stared at it until his anger abated.
* * *
‘Which one do you want to try first?’ Mara spread her hand out at the array of dresses she’d hung up on the rail she had prepped for Krystiana. ‘I think the blue would really bring out your eyes.’
Krystiana was in no mood for any colour bringing out anything. Least of all her eyes. She didn’t want anyone to notice her. Didn’t want anyone to see the sadness that was in her soul.
‘What about the black one?’
Mara looked at her as if she was crazy. ‘The black one? No, no, no, Krystiana! The black is too safe. It’s wrong for you. How about the red?’
No. Red would be too much. Everybody would look at her.
‘What about that one?’
Mara hefted it from the rail. ‘This one? I think this one will look lovely on you. Try it on!’
Krystiana took it, draping the pale grey silk over her arm and going into the bedroom to try it.
The grey was perfect. Almost silver, but not quite. Sleeveless and with a sweetheart neckline. It was understated. The kind of dress that wouldn’t make her stand out. And despite it having been designed for Mara, who was sylph-like in build, it fitted Krystiana perfectly, moulding her curves.
She twisted and turned in front of the mirror, admiring it but telling herself to not get too excited. Tonight, she would hug the wall, a glass of wine in her hand, which she probably wouldn’t drink, and after an hour or so she would slip away, unnoticed.
She was sad that she had made the decision to leave, but it was for the best. Matteo was getting too close. Getting under her skin. And she didn’t know what to do with that!
She’d kissed him in the pool.
She could feel her attraction for him growing and it hurt. Pained her that she could do nothing about it because it wouldn’t be right. Getting involved with a man like him... Losing control... Giving him power over her...
If she went into a relationship with a powerful man like him she’d lose. Her heart and her soul. She’d be open and out of control. That short kiss had shown her how out of control she had become in such a small amount of time. One kiss and already she’d knocked down the walls keeping him out.
He belonged to his people, not her, and if she tried to be with him in any way the media would want to know who she was. They would begin to dig into her background and her life—her history would be revealed to all.
No one on Isla Tamoura except for Aunt Carolina and Matteo knew about her past, and that was how she wanted it to stay. She had built a new life here. People didn’t look at her with the knowledge of her past in their eyes. She wasn’t pitied. She wasn’t asked about it and that was the way she wanted it.
‘How does it look?’ Mara called from the other room. ‘I hope you’re going to show me.’
Krystiana pulled open the door and stepped out, smiling at Mara’s obvious glee. ‘What do you think? Does it look all right?’
Mara gazed at her in awe. ‘È bellissimo!’
‘It’s not too much?’
‘No! You look breathtaking.’
Krystiana gazed down at the gown and bit her lip, reconsidering. She didn’t want to look ‘breathtaking’. At all.
‘No, no! Don’t look like that. You’re wearing it. I’ve even got a clutch to match it. And shoes. What size are you?’
Krystiana
told her.
‘Perfect! You’ll be the belle of the ball!’
‘I don’t want to be the belle. I’m not a guest of honour—just a friend, that’s all.’
‘Oh, come, now. That’s not all!’
She frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
‘You like him, yes?’
Krystiana blushed madly. She couldn’t tell Mara! Mara had once been his wife!
‘Not like that.’
Mara raised an eyebrow. ‘I wish I could believe you.’
‘There’s nothing between us. In fact, I’m leaving tomorrow.’
‘You’re leaving?’ Mara looked shocked.
‘Tomorrow morning. I have to.’
Mara nodded. ‘Maybe that’s wise...’
Krystiana turned away and began to unzip the dress. Even Mara could see that she and Matteo would be a bad thing.
Mara laid a hand upon her arm, stilling her. ‘I know it will hurt you to leave.’
‘It’s the best thing for both of us.’
Mara nodded her head solemnly. ‘It’s a pity, but I admire you for being so sensible.’
‘I’m not being sensible. I don’t know what I’m being.’
‘What do you feel for him?’
Krystiana blinked. Unsure how to answer. ‘I like him. Maybe too much,’ she said.
Mara nodded. ‘He’s easy to like. Easy to love.’
Krystiana stared at her. ‘I don’t love him, Mara.’
That was just ridiculous!
* * *
She’d read somewhere that when you felt attracted to someone you could blame your medial prefrontal cortex, because that was the part of the brain that was responsible for any love at first sight activity. The inferior temporal cortex reacted to visual stimuli, the orbitofrontal cortex reacted emotionally, the anterior cingulate cortex caused physiological responses and the right insula dictated arousal.
Basically, it meant that most of your brain was going overboard, so no wonder you couldn’t think straight!
But as she got ready in her room, trying to sort out her hair and make-up for this, her last evening at the palace, she tried to tell herself that she was doing the right thing—even though she strongly suspected her thoughts and decisions were based on her emotional responses.
She liked Matteo. More than she should. So getting away from him was the obvious solution. Besides, he probably wouldn’t want to speak to her much tonight, anyway. She’d clearly shocked him when she’d told him she was leaving, so perhaps tonight would be okay? They could avoid each other all evening.
She put in her diamond drop earrings and stood in front of the mirror, checking her reflection. The grey dress was actually very beautiful. Understated and classic. It was a pity it was on loan, because she loved it very much.
Krystiana checked her watch. Nearly time to go.
Why do I feel so nervous?
There was a tentative knock at her door and, suspecting it was Sergio, she went and opened it. Only it wasn’t Sergio at all.
It was Matteo.
Her heart leapt into her throat when she saw him standing there in dinner jacket and black bow tie. He looked gorgeous! She almost took a step back. Not sure why he was here.
‘I’ve come to escort you to the ball. On your last night here with you as our guest it seemed right. No hard feelings?’
‘Oh. Right. Okay.’
‘We’re okay?’
She nodded. ‘Absolutely. I can’t thank you enough for all that you’ve done for me.’
Matteo gave her a short smile. ‘You look bellissimo. Truly.’
She flushed at the compliment. ‘Thank you. So do you.’
He held out his arm for her to slip her hand through, and they walked arm in arm down the palace corridors.
For a few moments she felt quite awkward, being with him. She’d not expected him to come to her door, but he was most certainly a gentleman and clearly he didn’t want an unescorted lady arriving at the ball. He was wearing some kind of scent that was playing havoc with her olfactory senses, so she tried a bit of mouth-breathing to try and calm them down.
‘How many people are going to be there?’
‘A few hundred.’
A few hundred...
‘Where is the ball being held?’
‘In the White Room.’
‘I don’t think I’ve been there.’
‘We use it only for the most special of occasions.’
She nodded, walking alongside him, trying not to think that this might be the last time they’d be together. Trying not to think of how much she liked him. How much he might think that she was running away. Because she didn’t like to think that she was.
‘Will Mara and Alex be there? So I can say goodbye?’
‘Of course.’
‘Great. That’s...great.’ She didn’t feel great. She felt sad. But she had to do the right thing.
A few hundred.
He stopped suddenly. ‘I think I should leave you here. If we arrived together it would send out the wrong message.’
‘Maybe you’re right.’
She was wrong for him. He was trying to tell her that. The kiss in the pool had been a blip on both their parts. They couldn’t be anything more. It had just been physical.
She nodded. ‘I’d rather everyone assumed I was just a normal guest. Nothing to do with you.’
Which I’m not.
He removed his arm from hers and straightened his jacket. ‘And of course I’d hate to throw you to the wolves. The press,’ he explained.
‘Exactly. I’d rather stay out of the papers.’ Though that was the least of her worries. She’d rather stay as far away from him as she could because she just didn’t trust her physical reactions to him.
He smiled ruefully. ‘You promise not to leave without saying goodbye?’
‘I promise,’ she said, hating every word, knowing that deep in her heart she longed to be in his arms and held by him, pressed close, cherished and adored. Their kiss in the pool might have been the biggest mistake she’d ever made, but it had felt so good! And that was why it was so confusing.
‘I don’t want you to leave without a chance to...’
She got sucked into the hypnotic gaze of his eyes. ‘Chance to what?’
She saw the hesitation in his eyes. The fight within him. And then he was stepping close.
He reached up to stroke the side of her face. ‘I feel like I know who you are. And that I’ll never meet anyone else like you again. I’m not sure I want to lose you.’
Krystiana sucked in a breath, trying to steady her racing heart. ‘I...’
‘You feel it, too.’
‘Matteo...’
And suddenly his mouth was on hers.
She closed her eyes in ecstasy. Giving herself one more moment of bliss. A single moment in which she’d allow herself to take what he could give.
Her hands lay upon his chest and she could feel his heart pounding, the muscles beneath his skin, the way he wrapped himself around her as he pulled her closer still.
Her logical mind was screaming at her to stop, but she couldn’t. She silenced the voice. No, that was wrong. The voice disappeared. Because all she wanted to experience was the feeling of his lips upon hers. Her body pressed against his. The fire building in her soul. The heat that was searing her skin, making every nerve-ending electric.
She’d never felt this before. Never been like this with anyone before. Not like this. There’d been awkward fumbles and kisses from guys she’d not felt such attraction for, and with Adamo it had been good, but with Matteo it was a fierce thing—a force that powered through her like a hurricane. Unstoppable and unrelenting.
As the kiss deepened and her tongue entwined with his she groaned in delight, cradling his face in her hands, fe
eling the soft bristles of his beard beneath her skin. She knew she wanted more. Oh, so much more... But...
They broke apart and stared at each other, both surprised, both overwhelmed by what had just happened. Stunned.
Her fear at what would happen when she had to leave had just been made worse! Kissing him had just made it a lot harder.
Why am I doing this to myself? What on earth is going on?
Krystiana looked up and down the palace corridors but no one was around. This was just between her and Matteo.
‘I’m sorry. We...er...shouldn’t have done that.’
‘No.’
‘But we keep doing it.’
‘Yes.’
‘Why? Why would we punish ourselves like this?’ She was almost in tears. Could hear it in her voice.
He took a step back. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t mean to. It’s just that when I’m with you...’
‘What?’ She needed to know what was driving him. What was causing him to keep kissing her. Because then it might make sense to her why she kept kissing him.
He frowned and took a step towards her, his gaze dropping to her mouth before he looked back up at her eyes.
‘I’ll see you in the ballroom.’
* * *
The White Room was exactly that. White walls and ceiling. A white marble floor. Columns thick as tree trunks like silver birches, pulling the gaze upwards towards numerous crystal chandeliers. Huge gold vases held swathes of white lilies, roses and jasmine.
As she descended the steps towards the milling crowds, accepting a flute of champagne from a server, Krystiana hoped she could lose herself in the crowd. Even if she did feel there was a huge neon arrow above her head, lit up with the message I just kissed your prince!
She felt torn. And exhilarated. Confused and trapped. Could the whole world see the imprint of his lips on hers? Was it written all over her face? Heat and lust and secrets?
I should have known better!
She was muddled in her thinking. Being with Matteo stopped her brain from working properly. She really felt something for him, and it wasn’t just attraction—it was something more than that. Krystiana had never wanted to be with a guy as much as she wanted to be with him. She had never felt more attracted to someone in her life.
The Prince's Cinderella Doc Page 10