This, he knew, was true, deep love.
He also knew if he said those same words to Frannie, he’d be as emotional as Vittorio. And as certain. The awareness jolted him. He’d only kissed Frannie twice. Had never walked hand in hand with her, had never made love to her. Yet he was as positive of his feelings as he was that the sun rose to Sarcaccia’s east and set to its west.
He pointed out a baby being held aloft by its father, then waved. “What do you think of our carriage, Mother?”
“It’s the one I wished your brother to take. My assistant Daniela informed me that you made a switch.” The queen straightened in the seat and fluffed her dress, a custom-made silk in a sky blue that flattered her features. “I allowed the change. However…I will not allow you to change the subject.”
“Which was?” He paused, pretending to think. “Oh, yes, the wedding. I wasn’t aware they planned to use the traditional vows, since they skipped exchanging them at the rehearsal. Not that I expected anything less than a very formal, traditional ceremony from Vittorio.”
“Perhaps you’re growing more appreciative of the traditional. As I aged, I discovered its value. That which may appear plain, or staid, often has far more depth and meaning. It’s what allows the traditional to endure.”
Umberto, the palace security chief, sat alongside the driver. At a signal from the queen, Umberto nodded to the driver, who guided the horses toward the palace.
“I suspect you’re trying to tell me something, Mother.”
She raised her hand to recognize a group of schoolchildren gathered on a balcony, holding signs congratulating the newlyweds, then gave Alessandro a knowing look.
“I have never, in all your years, known you to pursue a woman. It is always you who are the pursued. For your looks, title, and wealth, I’m sure, not any particular facet of your personality” —she said this with a twinkle in her eye— “because most women never see your sense of humor or your intelligence. Or the protective streak you keep hidden away. You hide your best traits from casual acquaintances, which prevents them from being attracted to who you truly are.”
Given the cameras lining the processional route, he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “You are a mother blind to her children’s faults. And that is your greatest fault.”
She sighed, though there was amusement in the sound. “When Vittorio left, it was your idea. You acted as if it were a great game to take on his role, but I know the truth of the matter. It was an act of great love.”
He had no answer for that, so he gave none. His mother was skilled at wheedling information by remaining silent, but when she realized he’d admit nothing, she tried a different approach. “I saw you dancing with Francesca Lawrence at Sophia’s Christmas party and I knew.”
“You knew…what?”
Though the queen continued to smile, he could tell from her shift in position that she was growing exasperated with him. “Francesca is one of those women who, on first glance, appears plain. Traditional. Staid. Yet you danced with her twice when you had every reason in the world to walk away. Your eyes never left her face. You smiled, genuinely smiled, for the first time in weeks. You steered her toward the middle of the floor so you could keep her to yourself. You were captivated in a way I’ve never witnessed, and I’ve witnessed you with plenty of women.”
The horses slowed their pace as the carriage rounded a corner, taking them through the heart of medieval Cateri en route to the palace. The queen tilted her chin to acknowledge a group of well-wishers who’d climbed the wall of a garden so they’d have a view from above the street-level crowd, before speaking again. “Francesca might appear traditional, but she’s more adventurous than what one might expect. More independent. When I saw you dancing that night, and I witnessed the look of curiosity on your face, I knew you’d pursue her, given the opportunity.”
“So you created an opportunity.”
“Oh, no. The opportunity was there, and you made it clear that you were ready for it.” She raised a brow and looked at her son. “I merely ensured you knew of it.”
“I had no idea Frannie was on Kilakuru.”
His mother’s smile was all-knowing. Likely because he’d referred to Frannie, rather than Francesca. “She’d mentioned the island to you. Months later, you remained intrigued enough to go. And, you might recall, I told you that you were welcome to extend your three-month obligation if your time at the shelter were to prove fruitful.”
“You did. However, I now have responsibilities here.” Responsibilities that went far deeper than he’d known before yesterday’s talk with Vittorio. He might never ascend the throne—didn’t want to ascend the throne—but he owed it to his countrymen to prepare for the possibility.
She angled her head at the uniformed guards flanking the palace gates, then gave a final wave to the crowd before the carriage entered the palace courtyard.
“Happiness often lies behind obstacles. Emily and Vittorio have faced their share, as have King Carlo and I. There comes a time when one must choose the proper course of action. To scale an obstacle, or choose a different path entirely? To pursue the happiness of one’s heart, or the obligations of one’s circumstances? In a long-term relationship, the question is likely to arise more than once.”
The driver slowed the horses, drawing the carriage to a stop under a portico at the side of the palace. The carriage that carried Emily and Vittorio from the cathedral was parked a short distance in front of them, empty now that the newlyweds had entered the palace and were likely making their way toward the balcony, where they’d appear for the cameras and for those gathered on the street in front of the palace.
Alessandro signaled the driver to give him a moment alone with his mother. Umberto looked to the queen for confirmation, then joined the driver near the side entry.
“I assume you’re talking about the obstacles you faced when you discovered that Father had Rocco, Enzo, and Lina out of wedlock.” At his mother’s nod, he drew in a deep breath, then puffed it out. “It was early in your marriage. How did you know your relationship would survive it? That you’d love him for as long as you have?”
“Oh, Alessandro.” The queen released an uncharacteristic sigh, then smiled at her son. “I knew within days of meeting Carlo Barrali that he would be the love of my life. Not because of his good looks or his wealth, and not because he was heir to the throne, though all those attributes have shaped the man he is. When we met” —her eyes went glossy— “it was as if I were called to him, as if your father’s soul spoke to mine. I simply knew. I’d never again meet a man like Carlo. I never wanted to.”
Alessandro spread his palms against the cool, black leather of the carriage seat, then flexed his fingers. His mother’s words were eerily similar to those Vittorio uttered last night.
My soul lives with Emily. It always will.
Alessandro had seen the evidence today in the cathedral, when Emily smiled at Vittorio as he slid the ring onto her finger.
The clopping of hooves against cobblestone indicated that the carriage bearing his father and Rita Bragna drew near. Emily’s parents would soon arrive in the carriage behind theirs.
The queen flicked a glance the direction of the sound, noting that their time was short. “The difficulty was in knowing whether Carlo viewed me the same way. Once I knew he did, I was certain we could overcome any obstacles in our path. We would love each other, and we’d love the family we created, however that family might be shaped. I believe it’s the same with Vittorio and Emily.”
“What made you so sure of his feelings?”
“I asked. Then I listened carefully to his answer.” The king’s carriage stopped behind theirs. The queen brightened, then signaled for the driver to return and open the carriage door. “On that note, it’s time to forget obligations and celebrate. I intend to dance to my heart’s content.” She gave Alessandro’s knee a quick pat. “I hope you will do the same.”
Chapter 24
Francesca stared at the bri
ght red numbers on her bedside clock. Nearly one a.m. She closed her eyes and pulled her pillow over her face.
If he arrived as scheduled, Alessandro would return to Sunrise Shelter tomorrow. She couldn’t wait. At the same time, she ached at the thought that he’d be leaving again in only three weeks.
If having him gone for a week for his brother’s wedding was this painful, what would it be like to know he was forever out of her life?
How hard would these next three weeks be, knowing how hard she’d fallen for him, yet having to keep her distance, since he’d plainly stated that he didn’t believe they had a future?
A buzz from the direction of her office cut short the thought. She waited, unsure of what she heard. Then it came again: the distinct sound of the front gate buzzer, which was wired to sound in her office.
She toed into her slippers, then made her way through the office and into the compound. She moved quietly, not wanting the person at the gate to see her until she ascertained their identity.
“Frannie? It’s me.”
Her heart soared at the sound of Alessandro’s voice. She hurried to the gate, then flipped the bar to admit him. Though she kept her voice low, she couldn’t hide her happiness. “What are you doing here?”
“Caught an earlier flight, then managed to find a captain who’d ferry me to Kilakuru from the airport.”
“But…it was your brother’s wedding!” She drank in the sight of him in the muted light as she closed and locked the gate behind him. His face bore the evidence of his long flight. Stubble covered his cheeks and chin, and his hair was as tousled as she’d seen it in a long time, despite the fact he’d apparently gotten a haircut during his time at home. He wore a pair of tailored gray slacks, expensive-looking leather belt and shoes, and a cream-colored shirt that, at one time, had been crisply ironed.
Despite his wrinkled clothes and apparent exhaustion, he looked amazing. She’d missed him terribly. Even more than she’d been willing to admit to herself while tossing and turning in bed, waiting for his return.
“I wanted to get here as soon as I could.”
“Why? Did you hear about Naomi?”
Alarm skittered over his face. “Naomi? Is she hurt?”
“No, nothing like that. She’s perfectly fine. Happy. She spoke to me the day of your brother’s wedding.” Frannie couldn’t hide the joy in her voice. True to her word, Naomi had also told her bunkmates that she was going home. Word spread through the shelter at lightning speed…both about the fact Naomi was going home, and that she’d finally spoken aloud. “I thought she might be the reason you—”
“You’re the reason.”
Frannie paused, her train of thought derailed. “What?”
Alessandro ran one hand through his hair as he looked at her. Suddenly, she was aware of the fact she stood in the middle of the compound in a thin nightgown with no bra. “Mind if we speak in your office?”
Not trusting herself to speak, she tipped her head toward the office indicating that he should follow. As soon as she flipped on the overhead bulb, she excused herself, then retrieved her robe from her room. When she returned to the office, she found Alessandro pacing the small space.
“What’s wrong?”
He stopped, then looked at her. She couldn’t read his expression, but his thoughts seemed weighty. It wasn’t like him. When he didn’t answer right away, she tried again, “How was your trip home?”
“Other than my family conspiring against me?” He let out an exasperated laugh, then shook his head. “Never mind. The trip was long, the wedding was elegant and heartfelt, and everyone took the opportunity to try to convince me they know what’s best for me.”
She couldn’t stop her smile. “Families will do that. You should’ve heard my father when I told him I wanted to run a shelter for kids in the middle of the South Pacific. He was supportive, of course, but concerned. He knew how secure I was in my job with Jack Gladwell. He knew if I wanted marriage and kids, I could stay with Jack and have that.”
“He was scared for your future.”
“Maybe. At least, the future he had envisioned.” She thought of Naomi and smiled. The little girl had been beside herself with happiness when she’d left the shelter with her parents and baby brother. “I don’t need a specific future when I’m happy in the here and now.”
“That’s exactly what I wanted to discuss.” Alessandro moved closer. “When I met with Mikhail at the palace, I committed to the shelter’s standard three-month service term. With such a capable staff, you probably don’t need me to stay longer. I’m not sure how much I truly contribute. However—”
“Yes.”
Her breath stilled at the electricity that flared in his golden eyes. “Yes?”
“The kids would love it if you stayed.” Her voice hitched, and she took a deep breath before adding, “So would I.”
His mouth lifted into a slow, sexy grin. “How did you know that was what I wanted to say?”
She shrugged, then returned his smile. “I didn’t.” She’d spoken without thinking. Only hoping.
“It is what I wanted to say.” He moved another step nearer. “I can’t imagine leaving the kids. I especially can’t imagine leaving you.”
“I thought you weren’t the right man for me. Those were your words.”
“I still imagine I’m not.” His mouth twisted, then he said, “You’ve completely ruined me, though. The whole way to and from Sarcaccia, my phone kept ringing with messages from women who wanted to see me while I was home. Or from male friends who wanted to go to parties, knowing we’d all leave with female companions. It didn’t work. All I could think about was you.” A self-deprecating laugh escaped him. “You’ve absolutely ruined me for casual sex.”
“You, ah, tried? And—”
“No! No.” He shook his head, then moved to frame her shoulders with his hands. His gaze dropped to one hand as he slid his palms down her arms, then returned them to her shoulders. When he met her gaze again, he said, “All I could think about was the kiss we shared in the dining hall. About the fact that the entire time I walked behind you when we followed the trail from the church, I watched the way the sunshine came through the rainforest canopy and made shadow patterns in your hair. I thought about how I spend my days listening for your laugh. I thought about the way the kids watch you and the staff relies on you. If you wanted to, you could run the world and do it with your heart as much as with your head. And I realized that you scare the living daylights out of me.”
Her throat grew tight. “I do?”
“At Sophia’s party, I felt like you could see right through me. I loved talking with you, but more than that, I was impressed with your perception. Then when I saw you again, in the palace library, I saw doubt in your eyes. All my life, I’ve been used to being compared to Vittorio and failing. You didn’t mean to do it, I know. And I reacted badly. Then you questioned me when I stood right here in your office the day I arrived on Kilakuru, I felt it again. But what hurt—what scared me—wasn’t being compared to Vittorio. It was being rejected by you.”
The emotion in his voice nearly undid her. “You’re not used to female rejection.”
His thumbs pressed into the skin of her shoulders, warming her through the plush fabric of her robe. “True. But in your case, I was scared because I liked you. Not because of the way your eyes tilt up at the edges or because you have a smile any man would love to see turned his way. I liked you the moment you said hello at the bar and zeroed in on the fact I was tired of small talk. You danced like a dream. You asked me the most bizarre questions. You fit in my arms. And you mesmerized me. All that was before I came here and understood the depth of your compassion. Before I fell in love with the fact that you secretly do want back copies of The Economist and you use big words when you’re nervous. Before I realized how truly wonderful and interesting you are.”
Her face heated at his words. “I have a confession to make. I didn’t approach you at the bar solely to
ask about whether Alessandro might be interested in charity work.”
“No?”
She gave a slight shake of her head. “When you ordered your Scotch, there was frustration in your voice. As if your mind was on more important matters. There was a rebelliousness in your stance and in your eyes. I loved that. The contrast between the formal, rule-following prince and the man who saw that there are times that formality should be cast aside in order to get things done. Of course, I thought you were Vittorio. But that hint of contrariness appealed to me. It’s what I felt when I quit my job to come here. It wasn’t what was expected. People flat-out told me I was foolish to leave such a perfect position, and I wondered if I was doing the right thing. But taking the less-traveled road helped me grow. It gave me purpose. When I saw that look in your eyes at the bar” —she swallowed at the admission— “I admired you. I’d always aspired to be that confident. As confident as I may have acted that night, I wasn’t.”
A wry laugh emanated from him. “You know, when I decided to volunteer here, I thought it was because I needed a challenge. I needed to prove my capabilities. But I’ve learned that I can find a challenge anywhere. What I really needed was a purpose. Meaning. You gave me that meaning, you challenged me to grow, and I’ve fallen in love with you for it. For who you are. And I was so scared of being rejected that I didn’t give you the opportunity to reject me.” A divot formed between his brows as he focused on her. “I told you I wasn’t the man for you, but that was an excuse. I said it out of fear. I should have taken the risk—”
She thought her heart would burst as she put her fingers to his lips. All she’d needed to hear had been said. More than that, she felt it. He radiated love.
“Shhh. You’re good enough. More than good enough. You’re everything I could ever want. I’m crazy in love with you.” She stretched onto her tiptoes, then shifted her fingertips to his cheek and pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. “And I very much want you in my bed tonight.”
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