“To be honest, I’m not surprised Dad reacted that way,” Edward said. “He’s used to getting whatever he wants when he wants it.”
“It didn’t shock me either,” he said. “But now Kyra definitely doesn’t want a relationship with me, doesn’t want me involved in the baby’s life. She’ll just go back to the US when the project is over.”
“So, Dad will get exactly what he wanted, regardless of his behavior,” Edward said.
Marcus nodded. “But maybe he was right about one thing—maybe it’s for the best that she leaves.”
“You don’t seem convinced on that point.”
“I’m not, I guess,” he admitted. “There was something different about Kyra. She made me want to be different, better.” Marcus was silent for a moment, considering what might have been. “But in the end, Dad was probably right to want her to go away. I’ll probably just go back to my old ways. The partying. The women. That’s what everyone expects, anyway.”
“Wait a minute,” Edward said. “I don’t expect that of you.”
Marcus gave Edward a doubting look.
“I’m serious,” Edward insisted. “You’re totally committed to this project, like I’ve never seen you committed to anything before. You’re the one who came up with the idea of using the estate for the shelter. You approached Clementine and me. You vetted it. You secured the investor.”
Marcus shrugged.
“I’ve seen your true colors come out when you’re passionate about something, and you care about this project. It’s not just about impressing a girl.”
“You’re right,” Marcus said. “I do care about the shelter, but that changes nothing with Kyra. She’s still going to return to the US. I still won’t see her or our baby again.”
“Maybe,” Edward said, then elbowed him playfully. “But maybe not. It depends on how things shake out from here on in. And most importantly, it depends on what you both want, not what Dad wants.”
“We know what Dad wants, and he’ll likely get it. He usually does.”
Edward shook his head. “Stop worrying about Dad. He was never a big fan of Clementine, but he came around eventually.”
“You’re probably right,” Marcus said. For better or worse, that was how their father worked. “But it’s Kyra I’m worried about. I’m not sure she’ll ever come around.”
In fact, Marcus was pretty damn sure Kyra had made up her mind for good.
13
Kyra folded her favorite black blouse and placed it inside her suitcase. She took the two dresses off of their hangers and tucked them next to the blouse. She was tired of hotel living and anxious to get back to the comforts of home, to cook herself a meal in her own kitchen and sleep under her own thick comforter.
The Sovalon project was wrapping up. Repairs and renovations were underway at the estate, and plans to open the women’s shelter were already set into motion. She’d put the contacts in place for all the initiatives the shelter would need once it opened—it would be someone else’s responsibility to see them brought to fruition. It had been a little over a week since Kyra had said goodbye to Marcus at her hotel room. She’d seen him from afar at work, but with the board broken up into committees, they had no real need for contact at this point. His focus was financing, and hers was in day-to-day operations. Kyra avoided Marcus as much as she could, both for her own protection—she didn’t want to get wrapped up again—and for the good of the shelter. They needed to maintain a positive professional manner with each other.
She was originally slated to head back to Atlanta four days from now, but seeing that everything was basically finished, she’d decided to move her flight up and leave early. Her flight left in a few hours. It seemed pointless to stay here and torture herself with worry over running into Marcus, when she could remotely complete the remaining tasks that needed to be done.
There was the whole issue of his being the father of her child. It seemed harsh to just up and leave without even saying goodbye, but she wanted things to be clean-cut and clear between them. No contact, no interference. His father would definitely approve of that. They could tie up any loose ends over the phone.
She continued packing her things until everything was neatly tucked away. Other than the precious cargo she carried in her belly, she would do the same with every memory of her time in Sovalon.
Tuck them away. Far, far away.
She cradled her stomach and pondered what the future might have been like if things hadn’t gone awry with Marcus. No matter how she tried to tuck away the thoughts, she’d never truly forget the magical time they’d spent together at the estate. Every time Ava asked for spaghetti dinner from now on, she was sure she would think of him and what could have been.
Kyra forced herself to finish her packing and pull herself together. She’d always been strong and focused. She couldn’t fall apart now. Now was the time when she’d have to be stronger than ever.
She picked up the phone and called down to the front desk.
“Can I help you?” the receptionist asked.
“Yes. I need a taxi for the airport. Can someone at the front desk take care of that for me?”
“Absolutely, Miss Rogers. We’ll get right on it.”
Thirty minute later, she ducked into a cab.
“Sovalon International Airport?” the driver asked.
“Yes,” she said, trying hard to ignore the twinge of regret she felt. From the backseat, she glanced into the rearview and watched her hotel fade as they drove farther out of the city.
Suddenly, her phone buzzed, jarring her from her thoughts.
“Hello, this is Kyra.”
“Hey, Kyra, it’s Neil Bryan.”
Neil was a fellow member on the board for the women’s shelter.
“Hi, Neil. What can I do for you?”
“I just wanted to share the latest good news,” he said, sounding cheerful. “A significant financial contribution has been made to the project. It’s enough to not only complete everything on the desired timeline, but we can even upgrade some of the plans.”
“Wow, that’s amazing.”
At least she could return home feeling like she’d succeeded in doing a great job on the project.
“Yeah, and it’s all thanks to Prince Marcus,” Neil said with a snort. “Who’d have thought he would have been such a valuable addition to the board, huh?”
Thanks to who? “Sorry, Neil, could you repeat that?”
“Apparently the playboy prince made quite the impression on our generous investor,” Neil said. “We already knew he’d agreed to make the contribution—he got the ball rolling on that after his night out with the prince. But today, the actual payment came through, and it was even more than the amount he’d initially promised. He included a message saying the additional funds were as thanks to Marcus for showing him the town.”
Kyra shook her head, wondering what exactly Marcus had done to leave such an impression.
“Except, rumor has it that Marcus isn’t quite the party animal the media makes him out to be,” Neil continued.
“What do you mean?” she asked, her attention fully piqued.
“Apparently, the investor commented that the prince didn’t really live up to his reputation of debauchery,” Neil said. “Glasgow is quite the womanizer, I guess, but when they went out, Prince Marcus wasn’t hitting on women. But it all worked out, because Glasgow said he was impressed by the prince’s professionalism, said it made him feel safe handing over his money.”
Kyra was quiet for a long second, then thanked Neil for calling her with the good news.
She hung up the phone feeling like a fool, and as the taxi neared the airport, Kyra’s thoughts spun circles in her head. Had she made the right decision in pushing Marcus away?
She was still angry that he’d lied, making her think he was turning in for the night when he’d actually been heading out clubbing. And she was still upset with the way the story had been spun by the media. But the second part w
asn’t really Marcus’s fault, and the first part…was it really so unforgiveable? If she made it clear that honesty was crucial to her in a relationship, did she trust him to never make that mistake again?
She did, she realized. She trusted him—and she cared for him, in spite of herself.
But what was she supposed to do about that now?
* * *
Marcus’s driver was waiting for him outside the Center for Social Welfare. It had been a grueling day of meetings with the financial directors and advisors for the women’s shelter project, and he was beat. All he wanted was to go home and chill. The minute he got into the Bentley, he sank into the comfortable leather seats and closed his eyes. A few seconds later, his phone rang.
“This is Marcus,” he said, wondering what fire he was going to have to put out now. Discussions about budget had been brutal today, and he wasn’t in the mood for more of the same.
“Marcus, it’s Edward.”
Thank God. It was just his brother.
“What’s up?”
“Nothing pressing,” Edward said. “I’ve been reviewing the plans that you and Kyra put together for the estate, and I just wanted to tell you I’m damn impressed with your work. I’m proud of you, brother.”
Marcus smiled sheepishly. He wasn’t sure anyone in his family had every said those words before.
“Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”
“You and Kyra really pulled off a job well done, I’ll tell you that. You make a good team.”
Marcus was silent. He appreciated his brother’s support, but he couldn’t go there. The memory of her telling him to leave was still too raw.
“You know,” Edward continued, “relationships like that are hard to come by, professional or otherwise.”
Hard to hold onto as well, apparently.
“Thanks for calling, Edward,” Marcus said. “It’s nice to get positive feedback, and hearing it come from you really means a lot.”
Marcus said goodbye to his brother and hung up the phone, but Edward’s words and veiled message wouldn’t leave him be. He and Kyra had really clicked. They were a good team, and they would make great parents. Sure, relationships took work, but everything that was worth anything took work.
He was willing to work to maintain their relationship, but she’d given up. She’d pushed him away.
But had he given up too easily? He could have fought a little harder to make her give him another chance. He’d always felt unstoppable when he was with her, so why was he letting anything stop him now?
“Roland,” he said to his driver, “turn around please. Head to Hotel Sovalon.”
He had to make Kyra see what he saw. What Edward saw. The two of them could have a future together if she’d just give him a chance.
When Roland pulled up to the hotel, Edward didn’t wait for the car to be in park before he hopped out. The exhaustion from a long day dissipated, and he was energized with the hope of working things out with Kyra and moving forward together. She was the only woman he’d ever really felt a strong bond with. It was as if she were meant just for him, and he was not going to let that get away.
He hurried into the elevator and pressed the button for the seventh floor, his whole body buzzing with anticipation. The minute the doors opened, he pushed through and raced down the hallway to Kyra’s room.
“Kyra,” he called, rapping firmly on the door. “Kyra, please let me in. We need to talk.”
She didn’t answer him, so he continued to knock on the door. “Kyra—”
The door opened, and a woman in a housekeeping uniform stood in front of him.
“Where’s Kyra?” he asked, confused.
The housekeeper stared at Marcus with awe in her eyes.
“Are you Prince Marcus?” she asked, her voice betraying that she was clearly a fan.
He didn’t have time for this.
“Have you seen the woman who’s staying in this room?” he asked.
She blushed and shook her head. “No” she said. “Whoever was staying in this room checked out this morning.”
Checked out? But where could she have gone?
“Thanks,” he muttered to the googly-eyed young woman and scurried back downstairs to the lobby.
“Did a Miss Kyra Rogers check out this morning?” he asked a man at the reception desk.
“Let me check that out for you, Prince Marcus,” the man said. He stared at his computer, then looked back at Marcus. “Yes, she did. About two hours ago, it seems. She asked for a cab to the airport.
Marcus felt cold. Kyra was going home to Atlanta.
And if she got on a plane to the US, he may never see her again.
Filled with dread that he’d already missed Kyra, he ran back out to the Bentley.
“To the airport, Roland, and please step on it.”
“Yes, sir,” his driver said, and they sped away from the hotel toward the airport and a chance at a future with Kyra. He only hoped he wasn’t too late.
14
Sovalon’s small airport was abuzz with travelers. Marcus pushed his way through crowds of women in business suits and casually-dressed vacationers. He noticed a man pushing a baby stroller, and a sense of even deeper urgency propelled him toward the departures board.
He’d figured out her itinerary thanks to an online search, and now he scanned the screen until he found the flight to Charlotte, North Carolina, which was the first leg in her trip back to Atlanta.
“Boarding.” He read the word aloud, the sound of it deflating him completely. Kyra was already on the plane.
He was too late. He’d missed her.
Marcus’s shoulders slumped, and his hands hung limply at his sides. A sense of loss overwhelmed him, and as he was about to turn around, he heard a familiar voice.
“Marcus.”
“Kyra,” he said in surprise, her name coming out more like a breathy whisper. Dressed in yoga pants and a T-shirt and looking as gorgeous as always, she stood in front of him with luggage at either side of her. She looked as shocked to see him as he was to have found her here. Overtaken with sheer joy, he ran to her and hugged her. At once, he stood back cautiously, his wits returning. “You’re not on the plane,” he said.
“No,” she said. “I had planned to be, but as I was standing in line to check my bags, I decided I couldn’t go home without talking to you first.”
“Oh?” he asked, unable to steal his eyes away from her beautiful face.
“I realized I was wrong about you,” she said, looking shy.
“In what way?”
“I should have listened when you tried to tell me that night out with the investor was all about business.” She revealed to him what Neil had told her over the phone this morning. “You really sealed the deal, Marcus,” she told him.
He nodded, stunned by her words of affirmation.
Marcus watched as Kyra began twirling her hair, a nervous habit of hers he’d noticed before. It was endearing.
“I was wrong about my sister too,” she went on. “I’ve been doing the same thing to her as your family does to you. Letting the past keep me from seeing the way she’s grown and changed. You opened up my eyes to that with Maggie, and I have to thank you.”
Marcus stepped a few inches closer to her, wanting so much to take her in his arms, but Kyra had more to say.
“I should have had more faith in both of you,” she said. “I realize now that I let my fears take over, blinding me to the things I knew about you—the things I had come to trust, no matter how it all appeared on the surface.”
Marcus took her hand and kissed it then grinned at her. “Did you miss your flight just so you could apologize to me?”
With tears in her eyes, Kyra nodded. “I guess I did,” she said and sighed. A look of consternation came over her face then. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
Marcus looked Kyra straight in the eyes. “I guess I realized something too,” he said. “I realized I had to fight for what I really want, and w
hat I want is you.”
Kyra placed a hand over her mouth, and a tear leaked down her cheek. Marcus wiped it away and went on telling her the things he needed to say.
“I want you. I want our baby. I want us to be a family.” He squeezed her hand. “I was wrong to not just be honest with you from the start about that night out. I guess I was afraid you’d judge me or doubt me, so I found it easier to just tell a white lie in the moment. I know now that I have to take the time to communicate openly.”
Kyra listened to him without interrupting, making him feel like his words mattered.
“I wanted to prove to you that I could be a good father and a good partner and then I failed by backing down when I should have fought for you.”
Kyra lowered her eyes.
“Let me correct that mistake, Kyra,” Marcus said. “I want us to be a family. I want to yell it out from the rooftops that you’re mine and we’re having a baby together! I’ll tell anyone off who has a problem with that—the media, my father—that it doesn’t matter what they think.”
Marcus noticed that Kyra’s cheeks were a hot shade of pink. Maybe he’d spoken that last bit a little too loudly. But she was smiling. That was what mattered to him.
“Forgive me?” he asked.
“I do,” she said and threw her arms around his neck. “Forgive me?”
“Always,” he answered. While people rushed past, heading off to their own adventures, Marcus took a moment to enjoy their reunion. They had the adventure of a lifetime in front of them. And now that she’d taken him back, nothing would get in the way of making things work. He would make sure of it.
He took Kyra’s hand. “Will you come with me?” he asked.
“Where to?” Kyra’s face peered up into his.
He didn’t answer her but just smiled and led her to the waiting car.
* * *
Marcus handed Kyra’s bags to the driver who placed them in the trunk while she got settled in the backseat of the Bentley.
“Where to, Your Highness?” Roland asked.
The Playboy Prince’s Pregnant American: Sovalon Royals Book Two Page 9