‘Right now this has nothing to do with her and everything to do with you,’ Khal snarled, taking a step forward and jamming one finger hard against Roman’s shoulder. ‘You just couldn’t control yourself—admit it. You wanted a woman and so you had her. Does the Princess know that she is just another notch on your bedpost? Or perhaps you are both just as selfish and impulsive as each other?’
Roman surged forward. Their noses were now mere inches apart. ‘She is nothing like me,’ he said coldly. ‘She is kind and giving and she deserves more in a man than either of us could ever offer her.’
He paused, watching the anger drain from Khal’s face as his brows furrowed with surprise. With a deep, shuddering breath he stepped away, turning to face the window.
A long moment of deathly silence passed before he heard Khal exhale slow and hard behind him, a slight whistle escaping his lips. ‘I don’t believe this... You are in love with her.’
Roman braced one hand on the window ledge, looking out and seeing nothing. ‘Don’t be a fool. You said it yourself—women have only ever served one purpose for me.’
Khal’s low whistle of laughter sounded across the room. ‘I never thought I’d see this day. Roman Lazarov—brought to the edge of his infamous personal control by love.’
Roman shook his head, turning to take in the look of amused wonderment on the Sheikh’s dark features. ‘I am not prone to the sentiment. I simply believe Olivia has been treated poorly and I want to see it made right.’
‘You poor, naïve fool. Sadly, love is not something we can choose to feel or not to feel. Trust me—I know.’
‘I am not like you, Khal. I am not made for family life.’ He took a deep breath, knowing it was finally time to say out loud the words that he had wanted to say for a long time. ‘Look at my history with protecting the women I care for. My sister, your wife... I break things. I always have. I am simply not the kind of man she needs me to be.’
The mention of his late wife was usually enough to put an end to any conversation, but Khal surprised him, standing and placing a hand heavily on his shoulder.
‘It was not your fault that Priya was killed. I have told you this time and time again. Just as it was not your fault that Sofiya was killed. You cannot take on the blame for everything that goes wrong around you.’
‘What about Zayyar?’ Roman said, shaking his head. ‘This marriage was part of your great plan and now it’s all gone to crap.’
‘Perhaps not,’ Khal said cryptically. ‘I am not completely out of options just yet. Once Olivia ran away, the King and I discussed a possible fallback plan.’
Roman was silent for a moment. ‘The youngest Princess?’
Khal shrugged. ‘If she is willing, so be it. If not, I will retreat and regroup—as always.’
Roman nodded, glad that all hope was not lost for the two nations.
* * *
Olivia stood in her dressing room and placed the elegant emerald tiara upon her head for the last time. She met her own eyes in the mirror with a mixture of sadness and excitement, knowing that after tonight everything would change.
And yet everything had already changed for her.
Would anyone notice that everything inside her had undergone a massive transformation in the past few days?
With sudden momentous clarity she realised that for the first time in her life she truly didn’t care. From tomorrow she would be giving up her right to succeed to the throne voluntarily, and making the leap into actually leading Mimi’s Foundation. She was done with being a pretty face who smiled and waved. The time had come for her to use her own two hands to make the difference she craved.
Perhaps once all of this was over she might appreciate this moment more—the sudden power she felt as she left her suite and began to descend the grand staircase on the way to take her life back into her own hands. But at that moment she felt neither powerful nor relieved.
She had given her virginity and her heart to a man who had repeatedly warned her that he would treasure neither. She knew now that romantic souls could not simply choose to behave otherwise. She could not switch off the part of herself that yearned to feel loved, no matter how much she willed herself to.
A lifetime of training had taught her how to relax her facial muscles into a polite mask of indifference, even while emotions threatened her composure. Harsh decisions would likely need to be made, and comfort zones abandoned. But for the first time in her twenty-six years she was not worried about the unknown.
Olivia couldn’t recall the grand palace ballroom ever looking more beautiful. As she descended the long staircase into the crowd of guests below she reminded herself to smile and hold herself tall and proud.
Perhaps one day in the far future she might look back on this night and yearn for a moment like this. But even as the tug of uncertainty threatened she pushed it away. She had made her decision and the time had come to put herself first.
The Sheikh had not been half as forbidding as she had anticipated—in fact he had seemed more pensive than anything as she had carefully outlined her reasons for refusing his proposal. His gaze had seemed knowing as he had enquired about Roman’s treatment of her, but perhaps that was just her own sense of guilt.
She had her own reasons for keeping her affair with Roman private. She wanted to treasure her time with him, not have it sullied by the judgement of others. Either way, she had taken her power back and it felt great. The marriage would not be going ahead.
But she was not naïve enough to think that the hardest part was over.
Even as the thought crossed her mind she looked up to see her father watching her from across the ballroom. They had not yet formally met, but by now she assumed he would have spoken with the Sheikh. He would know that she had refused the proposal and he would be planning his punishment for her supposed betrayal.
Let him plan, she thought with a solemn shake of her head. He had no control over her. Not any more.
A commotion near the entrance caught her eye and she looked up to the top of the staircase to see a man pushing past the guards to descend the steps with ease. Two Royal Zayyari guards in crisp white and purple uniforms flanked him, holding off the Monteverre palace guards with ease and forcing them to stand down.
Roman.
Her mind went completely blank as the man she loved advanced towards her, his powerful frame accentuated by a perfectly tailored tuxedo.
‘What are you doing here?’ she blurted, so taken off balance by his appearance that it made her insides shake.
‘It’s good to see you too, milaya moya.’
His voice was like a balm to her soul. She hadn’t realised how much her silly lovesick heart had yearned to hear it again. Just one more time. It had barely been twenty-four hours since she had left Isla Arista, and yet it felt like a lifetime since she had stood in front of him. Since she had looked into his slate-grey eyes as he had broken her heart with all the practice of a pro.
He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by the booming voice of her father as he advanced upon them from the other side of the room.
‘Guards! Get this criminal out of my palace this instant!’ King Fabian was livid, his cheeks a bright puce as he came to a stop a few steps away from where Roman stood.
The ballroom seemed to have become very quiet all of a sudden, and Olivia was thankful that the room was only half full as the guests had only just started to arrive.
‘King Fabian—I was hoping I would see you tonight.’ Roman’s eyes narrowed, his shoulders straightening with sudden purpose.
Olivia reached out as Roman took a step towards her father, her hand on his arm stilling his movements. ‘This is my fight, not yours,’ she said, steeling herself as she turned to her father.
‘The Sheikh has said that you refused his proposal after your little trip with this thug,’ King Fabian spat. ‘Judging by the
lovesick puppy expression on his face, I can take a good guess as to why.’
Roman snarled, but remained dutifully silent.
‘Father, I had planned to have this conversation at a better time,’ she said, looking around to see that the palace guards had descended to herd the guests to the other side of the room, offering the royal family some privacy.
‘There is nothing you can say to save yourself now, girl.’ Her father shook his head sadly. ‘I hope he’s worth giving up your place in this family.’
‘He has nothing to do with me giving up my place,’ she said, as Roman frowned. ‘Well, he does—but not in the way that you think.’
She took a deep breath, facing her father head-on.
‘By giving up my right to succeed to the throne I am free of your control. That’s worth more to me than being a princess ever could be.’
Roman reached out to touch her arm, ‘Olivia, you don’t have to do this.’
‘I do. You see, my father has made more life-altering decisions on my behalf than this one.’ She looked back at her father, noting his gaze darken. ‘Such as when I inherited sole ownership of my grandmother’s foundation ten years ago and he had me sign away my rights to him. At sixteen years old I didn’t understand the repercussions. But now I do. And I know that by stepping out from under your thumb I’ll get to take control of my own destiny for once and truly start helping people.’
‘You can’t do that.’ King Fabian laughed cruelly. ‘You can’t simply walk away from this life.’
‘I already have, Father,’ she said sadly. ‘I’ve been in contact with external advisors over the past few months to discuss the legalities. Once I relinquish any claim I have to the throne the foundation goes back into my name alone. Just as Mimi wished it to be.’
She hated it that her own father could look at her with such open disgust simply because she had chosen to go against his wishes.
Her own personal happiness did not matter to him.
* * *
Roman’s eyes had widened as he listened to the exchange but he did not speak for her again. Nor did he attempt to interrupt as Olivia finished her conversation with her father and simply turned and walked away.
He took a moment to stand toe to toe with His Majesty, King Fabian. The urge to say everything he wished to say was so intense it consumed him. But Olivia had handled the situation with all the style and grace of the Princess she truly was. There was nothing he could add that wouldn’t ruin it.
And so he walked away, following the woman he loved and ignoring the slew of vulgar curses in Catalan shouted in his wake.
He followed her in the direction of the outer terrace, instructing the two Zayyari guards Khal had lent him to stand sentry by the doors and make sure they were undisturbed.
Olivia stood with her back to him, staring out at where the moonlight shone across the ornamental pond in the gardens.
He moved to her side, reaching out his hand, needing to touch her. She flinched away and something inside him flinched too, with the hurt of that small movement.
‘You’re angry with me...of course you are,’ he said softly, silently urging her to turn to look at him.
She didn’t speak. Instead she wrapped her arms around herself defensively and stared resolutely ahead.
‘I came here because I wanted to save you,’ he said. ‘I never even entertained the possibility that you were completely capable of saving yourself.’
‘I’m glad I surprised you,’ she said, irony dripping from her words as she turned to face him.
‘Olivia...’ he breathed. ‘I came here to make sure that the marriage would not go ahead. I told myself that I was doing it for you, to save you from making a mistake that would last a lifetime. But I know now that I was only lying to myself.’
He braced one hand on the balustrade beside her, making sure to keep some space between them.
‘I have never told anyone the things that I told you about my past.’ He looked away for a moment, out at the darkness of the water. ‘Something about you makes me want to tell you everything. To confide in you and trust you, even though I have spent a lifetime trusting no one. It scared me to death, to be quite honest.’
‘Oh, Roman...’ she said softly, reaching out her hand to touch him.
He raised his hand, holding her off. ‘Wait just another moment. I’ve been thinking all evening about what I would say when I got here, you see.’ He inhaled sharply, felt the adrenaline coursing through him. ‘I’ve spent years—decades—blaming myself for my sister’s murder at the hands of a man I trusted. She was shot right in front of me by Alexi, to teach me a lesson.’
Olivia’s hands covered her mouth and tears filled her eyes. This was all going wrong, he thought. He hadn’t meant to upset her—he just needed her to understand.
He stepped forward, taking her hands in his and kissing her knuckles gently. ‘No, please don’t cry. Anything but that.’ He looked deeply into her eyes. ‘I’m telling you this because I want you to understand why I’m such a cold, unlovable bastard. That monster wanted me to see love as a weakness. So he could break me down and make me easier to control. I have unknowingly let that lesson stick to me like tar for the past twenty years. I let that man’s actions shape me, even from beyond the grave.’
‘You are so brave to have overcome that...’ She shook her head. ‘To have become what you are now...’
‘My success is nothing so long as I am alone,’ he said simply, taking a breath and steeling himself for possible rejection.
She was utterly breathtaking, her long fiery hair backlit by the glow of the lights in the garden. The dress she wore was utter perfection in emerald silk, but truly she could have worn rags and he would have found her breathtaking. She was beautiful, it was true. But knowing her as he did now...knowing what lay below that surface beauty... It was infinitely more spectacular.
‘I came here to tell you that I love you, Olivia,’ he said softly, watching as his words resonated. ‘I didn’t know how much I needed you until I thought of seeing you on another man’s arm. Any other man. Of watching you become his wife and have his children... I cannot bear the thought of you marrying anyone...other than me.’
* * *
Olivia’s heart thumped wildly in her chest as she looked into the solemn, emotion-filled eyes of the man she loved. ‘Is that a proposal?’ she breathed.
‘I hadn’t planned on laying it all out like that so quickly,’ he said uncertainly. ‘I understand if I’ve done too much. If I’ve been too cold for you to ever trust me or feel the same way.’
She shook her head, a small smile forming on her lips. ‘I trusted you from the moment you offered to take me away with you.’
‘Foolish girl.’ He smiled, uncertainty still in his eyes.
‘But love...?’ she said, taking a step closer and running her hand over the lapel of his suit jacket. ‘That didn’t come until I truly knew you. Knew the man you are underneath all the bravado and the ice. Then I fell in love with you so deeply it took my breath away.’
He finally took her into his arms. His mouth was hot and demanding on hers as his hands held her tightly against him. His embrace filled her with warmth and strength. When he finally pulled away she groaned with protest, never wanting the moment to end.
‘Are you sure you want to marry me? Even though I am no longer a princess?’ She let a smile seep into her words as he tipped her back in his arms.
Roman shrugged. ‘I suppose it’s okay to settle for a simple philanthropist as my wife.’ He sighed, sweeping his hands down her sides. ‘If you’re okay with the fact that I don’t run an entire kingdom?’
She pretended to consider her options for a long moment, until his hands began to move lower on her hips and he pulled her hard against him in mock warning, with playfulness and a joy that mirrored her own in his eyes.
‘I l
ove you, Roman Lazarov,’ she said solemnly. ‘And nothing would make me happier than becoming your wife.’
The kiss that sealed their engagement was one filled with passion and promises. Olivia sighed with soul-deep contentment as she looked up into the face of the man she loved. The man she had chosen for herself.
Her own destiny.
* * *
If you enjoyed One Night with the Forbidden Princess you’ll love these other stories by Amanda Cinelli!
Resisting the Sicilian Playboy
The Secret to Marrying Marchesi
Christmas at the Castello
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One Night With The Forbidden Princess (Monteverre Marriages Book 1) Page 15