Forbidden Bastard: Opposites Attract Matchmaker Romance (Princes of Avce Book 10)

by Victoria Pinder

  Tears formed, welling at her lower lids. “Don’t go there.”

  “Then don’t leave me.” He closed eyes. If he kissed her then maybe she’d tell him that she loved him too.

  Her lips quivered beneath his but then she kissed him back.

  Her hands ran through his short hair and sent awareness down his spine, but as the kiss ended, she sighed, pressed her head to his chest and said, “Charles, I’m afraid.”

  “Don’t be. You're the one holding all the cards.” He hugged her tight, his muscles tense.

  He was hers now. He knew he wasn’t what she wanted though, and that little boy who'd heard gun shots and people running all around him as the nuns left him was once again in the same spot. Though he had her in his arms, he was just waiting for the train that might take her away.

  Chapter 15

  Sandi’s palms were damp with sweat. She never sweated, not really.

  But as she walked in the moonlight through the beautiful gardens where fireflies flitted without care near the ocean, she wanted to be at peace.

  Her parents were settled into the guest house. She'd successfully avoided any discussion of Charles, mostly because they were jetlagged.

  If they'd asked her how she felt, she might crumble. She wasn’t sure. Love was supposed to be easy, right? Part of her absolutely did love Charles but shouldn't it be her whole heart?

  She’d never been good at listening to her gut to make a choice and once again she was nervous.

  Tonight she’d be with Charles, once he returned from escorting Clara to the dower house.

  Maybe he’d finally bring her to that cool maze she’d wondered about the first day she’d arrived. She’d never done a real garden maze; maybe it would be romantic and she’d finally understand how she felt, beneath the full moon.

  Maybe not though, not when her shoulders were so heavy. Seriously, all of this would be hers, forever.

  If she said yes tomorrow during the ceremony, like she’d promised.

  A shiver raced through her as she approached the house.

  The patio still had the lights on that led to the sitting room—she made out a shadowy figure.

  Charles must have beaten her back here and was now waiting for her.

  Hopefully with wine.

  She could use a glass tonight. She headed into the small side room with the view of the ocean. The waters were all navy-blue rather than turquoise, with a white chop.

  Maybe there was a storm coming?

  Her skin still had a touch of cold to it.

  Sandi walked next to Charles who was just sitting in the dark. She flipped on the lights—no wine. She shrugged and stood above him. “Charles, my parents love the guest house and the staff.”

  He rose from his slumped position. “I’m sure the staff will have their hands full.”

  Huh? Her pulse was jittery but her gaze narrowed as she asked, “What does that mean?”

  He placed his hands in his pockets and walked toward the window. “Your parents are very… American.”

  “So am I.” She stayed where she was. “What does that mean?”

  He pivoted back and gave her a view of those dimples of his as he said, “You are. But you’re sweet, not demanding whatever just crossed your mind every two minutes—and your smile is intoxicating.”

  “I’ll get my parents under control tomorrow. They should know better.” Yet his was the smile that would catch the eye of any woman with a pulse. Charles was classically handsome and physically… perfect. She hugged her waist as she walked next to him and saw the storm picking up outside. She didn’t want to argue about her parents, so changed topics. “What’s going with you? How was Clara at the dower house?”

  He leaned against the wall without looking at her and said, “She’s excited that the staff is researching if her old friends might have returned to Avce.”

  She sighed. Her night before the wedding was supposed to be… different somehow, right? A celebration? Her insides twisted that something was wrong but she kept up appearances as she asked, “She doesn’t know?”

  He turned toward her but continued to lean which seemed so unusual for Charles. He’d been proper since they’d met. “We lived out of the way in the suburbs of Paris and she lost touch with everyone.”

  Her mind raced. Was it possible that he’d realized they were rushing? “I see.”

  He stood straight and smoothed out any imaginary wrinkles he might have created in his shirt. “Do you want to go over the wedding plans?”

  Her gaze shot up as her body froze. This needed to end. She shook her head and said, “No. I’m sure they’re great.”

  He placed his hands in his pockets and rocked on his feet. “Is there anything you want that might be special for you?”

  The walls were closing in. Maybe she imagined it but soon it would be too dark. She waved for him to head to the door as she said, “Charles… walk with me to your private beach.”

  Maybe outside she might find the right words to slow down so she’d think striaght. With fresh clean air.

  She ignored the zip in her veins and stayed next to Charles. He was what she wanted; he embodied everything she'd ever wanted in a man.

  They stepped off the patio and headed onto the small patch of beach he owned. He hesitated near the water and asked, “What’s going on?”

  Her hair flapped in the wind. Her heart thundered inside her uncontrollably. If only she could slow time. But she couldn’t. Instead she took a deep breath and prayed she said things right. “I don’t know if we should be rushing. I’m having difficulty….”

  He backed up a step. Maybe she should stop. But she couldn’t. ”First I wanted to stop the contract you made with my parents, and find you a bride other than me.”

  His jaw tightened but he didn’t say a word. Her skin jittered but she stepped toward him, her hand on her heart. “Then I wanted to marry you because a matchmaker who was supposedly the best at finding true love said we were matched. Then she said you didn’t have much of an online profile and she wasn’t sure it worked which scared me because what if you aren’t my true love-”

  He flinched. “So you don’t love me.”

  She hugged her waist and wished she wasn’t so unsure. “I don’t know. I think I do, but everything has been so fast. I’m on an emotional rollercoaster right now.”

  He took her hand in his and went down on one knee. “Sandi, I want to marry you because I don’t want to spend another day without you in my life. I love you but if you don’t love me… how can I change your mind?”

  Love? The pang in her soul hit hard and fast. Wow. She wasn’t sure about anything including the electricity in her fingers as she tugged on his hand for him to stand. “I need time, Charles. I just need time. I want to just pull back, and see if what I feel is real.”

  He stood but turned away from her. “Or is it because you hope another man will come for you?”

  Everything inside her suddenly stopped zapping. For this second she was clear as she reached for his wrist and said, “Wait. What?”

  He gently released himself from her grip as he said, “You've mentioned your ex, the doctor, and with holding back, I wonder…”

  Too much. She licked the salt off her lips from the ocean's breeze. “I think Reza’s married now. I don’t keep track to know for sure, but--”

  His eyes glistened. “But you loved him.”

  Oh no. Reza hadn’t mattered. She never even thought about him. Her hands went to her sides as she said, “Past tense. He has no place in my heart now.”

  He shrugged like he wanted to pretend everything was fine. “Waiting is hard.”

  Sandi tensed as she asked, “Why? I’ve never made a good decision and now we’re talking marriage…”

  His voice was low and the wind made his deep tones echo around her. “Because I think you’re going to leave.”

  “I don’t want to leave.” At the palace she’d been besieged with stories about Charles and how he must have tho
ught it was love with another. She followed him toward the door. “Charles, what about Sheena? From what I've been told, you convinced everyone you loved her and she avoided last night’s ball because you and I were going.”

  He widened his stance. “What did they say?”

  This wasn’t on her. If he was afraid she’d leave him, maybe that was what caused the buzz in her mind too. She stilled as she repeated exactly what she'd overheard in whispers at court, “That you publicly pleaded with her to divorce her husband, marry you, and then asked the king to annul their marriage. I knew this but I hadn’t really put together the extent that reached.”

  He lowered his head and his cheeks blushed which she hadn’t expected. Her heart raced. This must be it. She refused to say anything and finally he broke the silence. “I did do that, but I wasn’t in love.”

  Or it was, and he was rushing to marry her to avoid his own past. She shook her head. “You said it was to protect Clara but that seems… a bit much.”

  His eyes widened. ”Sheena… if I’d been in love I’d have never noticed another woman, like I was… with you.”

  Her heart twisted and her temples banged. Wow. No one else made her this… out of control. She couldn’t say a word.

  He stepped forward and pressed his forehead to hers. “Believe this. I did do it to protect Clara. I was being offered… billions of dollars and "investors" were buying stock in my company to persuade me to join a coup. I didn’t want those people to hear of Clara or use her to get to me. She was my only weakness that might be used to manipulate me.”

  Weakness. Family was a strength. Clara seemed like she’d do anything to protect him. “I don’t understand.”

  He reached behind his head and massaged his neck. “Not everyone believes monarchies are good and many want Avce to disappear off a map. In showing… passion as I did when I stormed into the palace and then obeyed the king’s decision, I proved coming after me privately wasn’t going to gain would-be traitors any alliances. I didn’t expect the king to pay me off. This whole estate, you, everything… it all feels like a lie.”

  Ouch. The wind beat against her skin as the storm heightened. “I’m not a lie. I’m here.”

  He let out a small laugh and turned toward the house to walk away. Her stomach was in knots. He said, “But you don’t love me. It’s better if you stay in the guest house with your parents and leave tomorrow.”

  Oh no. She couldn’t breathe. Or think. Or feel. She called out to his shoulder, “Wait. What?”

  He didn’t bother to turn again. He stood still and stared toward the house. “If we aren’t getting married, I lose it all anyhow. It’s best to just disappoint Clara a little now and move her and myself back to Paris… alone. Where we belong.”

  Then he had no title. Clara wouldn't reconnect with her old friends and once again Sandi would've destroyed her life, as well as other people’s lives. He would lose this house. He’d never have a chance to make amends with anyone. She pressed her hand to her stomach, feeling sick. “So you’re breaking up with me because I’m scared about tomorrow?”

  This time he half-turned and she glimpsed a glassy-eyed tear that he didn’t bother to wipe away. “I’m breaking up with you because you proved one thing… you don’t love me. And it’s better if we just stop now.”

  Love. The word was like a lion’s roar. And he was right. It was the missing link.

  He strode toward the house and she screamed, wishing she could stop this as she shouted, “Charles!”

  On the bottom step of the patio he said, “Don’t worry about me. I’m used to being unwanted and unloved.”

  Wow. She’d torn him down hard. And all because she'd hesitated instead of jumping up and down and embracing feelings. She rushed after him. “Charles.”

  But he disappeared in the darkness just as she made it to the top step of the patio.

  He’d told her to leave now.

  If she ran inside she’d humiliate herself and him more.

  First she needed a clue on what she wanted.

  What had just happened wasn’t it, but she wasn’t sure how to fix anything.

  Maybe this wasn’t… fixable. Maybe they didn’t fit at all.

  Chapter 16

  Inside the house, Charles’s shoulders were tight. He wasn’t sure what to do or where to go.

  What he did know was that he needed a drink. He needed to numb his heart and body from feeling.

  In the past he’d avoided alcohol when in pain and chose the gym because alcohol dulled his common sense, but now… if anything could wipe out the storm inside his soul… he needed something, for one night.

  Tomorrow he’d hit the gym, his usual way to deal with hurt, but as he walked toward the wine cellar, the butler stopped him. Charles immediately corrected himself, like Sandi had asked, and said, "Bernard."

  The butler lowered his head. “Your Grace.”

  Soon he’d be Mister or Monsieur and living back in France. Everything would return to normal once he could untangle himself from this night. He straightened his shoulders. “Miss Smith will be staying with her parents tonight.”

  Bernard raised his brow. “It will rain soon, Your Grace, and Miss Smith went into the maze.”

  Running around outside in a maze designed to entertain the villagers long before radio, television, or the internet were ever created didn’t seem the best place to be in a storm. He nodded at Bernard. “Call me when she leaves the maze. She probably just needs a few minutes, alone.”

  “Very well, Your Grace,” Bernard said.

  No drinks then. Charles strode down the hall, but his body was on auto pilot and he headed for his personal gym.

  His muscle memory on how to fight negativity had taken over. As he entered the gym, he decided a few minutes of cardio might help more than drinking, or desserts.

  Charles stripped off his shirt and pants. No one would see him in his boxer briefs and he started the elliptical to get his heart and body primed for more.

  Five minutes into his routine, his phone rang.

  Normally he would ignore the call, but Sandi was outside. He left the machine and dug through his discarded pants.

  His body tensed as he read the name.

  This was the last person he'd ever expected to hear from. He took his phone and headset, returned to his workout and answered Sheena, his ex, who immediately greeted him with, “Charles.”

  A man’s cough sounded through the phone and Charles wasn’t stupid--a warning that her husband was also on the line. He continued to exercise while he lifted his chin and said, “Sheena. Matteo. I didn’t expect this call.”

  Sheena's voice was the same as always when she said, “We wanted to thank you for the wedding invitation we received today.”

  Polite. Formal. Business-like. Being a true lady only enhanced her speech pattern. He'd once found her attractive because she was a smart woman who was somehow into him. No surprise--he'd been a stand-in.

  Charles sped up his machine and said, “You don’t have to come.”

  “We want to, if it’s okay,” Sheena said. “We want to let the past go.”

  None of it mattered. He’d leave for Paris soon. Avce would carry on just fine without him as if he never existed. “Look, I want to apologize if I hurt either one of you. Things were out of control then.”

  Sheena sighed. “It’s fine. We’re good, and we’re both sorry we missed seeing you so happy with Sandi at the ball.”

  Last night at the ball Sandi Smith had stolen his breath away and clearly been the one woman everyone remembered. Sheena must have heard that Sandi was "perfect" which she was. She'd stood by his side when she didn’t have to.

  His gut twisted and he changed the subject. “Why did you both miss the royal event?”

  Sheena said fast, “I…wasn’t feeling well. Doctor told me to rest but I’ll be at the wedding.”

  Pregnant? Hmm. Wasn’t his business. He ended the elliptical session and went to his strength-training routine, startin
g with back extensions to work his lower back. He placed his phone on the floor on speaker. “Take care of yourself.”

  Sheena asked, “So where is Sandi?”

  And if he told them the relationship was over, the conversation would grow even more awkward. He flexed as he said, “She’s staying with her parents for the night.”

  “Old-fashioned," Sheena laughed. "That’s an adjustment for you, Charles.”

  “I was always attracted to ladies, as you remember, Sheena.” Not that he’d ever measure up. He'd failed Sheena. He'd failed Sandi. He failed everyone.

  Sheena sighed. “I… you and Matteo are alike in some ways. We just called to say congrats and that we’re excited for tomorrow.”

  Right. This conversation had taken longer than necessary. And unlike him, Sheena was living her happily-ever-after. He’d never earn one of those. “I’ll pass along your message.”

  He was about to hit the red button and end the call, but Sheena asked, “Charles?”

  He finished the back flexes and headed toward his free weights as she said, “A few of my artists miss the compensation you found for their work after our business relationship ended.”

  His mind stilled. When he left the title, his business might lose all the new connections and different goods he now moved. But running events to showcase artists had been fun and helping someone one-on-one had its own reward.

  Perhaps Sheena offered a lifeline back to his old lifestyle where he procured buyers and took a fifteen percent commission for pieces he actually liked. He chose the fifteen-pounders to start and curled the first one. “Art was my primary means of making money for a long while. I’ll sign your artists, and you can go through one of my agents if you wish to start business again.”

  Sheena’s voice grew more animated as she said, “I’d like that for them. You were always smart when it came to negotiations for the artists.”

  This was a means of returning to his life in Paris.

  Without Sandi. He could go to his office, check out art pieces and match who would like what. He closed his eyes and saw how empty his life had been. “If one or two of the pieces catch my attention, I’ll give the artist special treatment. Is Chelsea one of your clients still?”