by Trish Morey
It broke her heart to think of a child being abandoned like that. She knew from his stories during their Trialta days that he’d been taken in by a fisherman for a while, but the man was cruel and he eventually ran away. It wasn’t until his late teens when he was given a corner to sleep in and a job cleaning the chapel that he met a wonderful older man—a pastor—and his kindly wife, who made it their business to see that he was clothed and had a safe place to stay.
The pastor had a hobby of flying ancient aircraft—planes from twentieth century wars. Pretty soon he was teaching Max the ropes, introducing him to aviation, and after that life was much brighter. Max joined the Ambrian Air Force as soon as he was old enough. And that was pretty much all she knew.
“And no one ever guessed you were one of the lost princes,” she murmured, looking at him wonderingly.
He laughed shortly. “Did you guess?”
She spread her hands out. “No.”
“Neither did I. That shows you how long the odds were.”
“Yes.” She sighed. “How horrible for you to be treated like that as such a young child. I’m glad the Granvillis are paying the price for their treason now.”
He stirred restlessly. “That’s life. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose.”
“And sometimes they pull the chair out from under you, just when you think they’ve given you a throne to sit on.”
He grinned at her appreciatively. “A cautionary tale, Kayla? Reminding me not to count on anything?”
She nodded. She couldn’t help it. She’d always been a cautious one. Her only times of going crazy had involved marrying a flyer and then letting grief make her lose all control when he died. “Count no chicks before they hatch.”
He cocked his head to the side. “Wisdom as well as beauty.”
“Nice of you to notice.” She rose, feeling a little too nervous to sit for long. “Would you like a drink? Iced tea? A cup of coffee?”
“A beer?” he suggested, following her to the little kitchenette.
“I think I have one.” And she did, ice cold and ready to drink. She pulled it out of the refrigerator and popped the top for him.
He took a long sip, sighed with satisfaction and leaned against the counter, looking at her. “So what have you been doing all this time?” he asked her. “You didn’t come straight here from Trialta did you?”
“No. I’ve been here for less than a year.”
“And what were you doing before that?”
She hesitated. Her heart was thumping in her chest. It was time to come clean. She had to tell him. He would find out soon enough anyway. And if he thought she were trying to keep it from him, he might think …
She shivered.
“I … uh … I had a baby.” She forced herself to look him in the eye and not waver. “A little boy. I call him Teddy.”
“Teddy?” He blinked at her.
“Yes. He’s at my sister’s right now, down the hall. Maybe you can meet him tomorrow.”
And she stared into his eyes, searching for doubt, searching for memories, searching for anything that would tell her he’d guessed the truth.
CHAPTER THREE
MAX’s reaction came a beat too late. Kayla knew he’d had a quick second to think before he let his natural instincts take over. What was he thinking in that flash of time? What was he feeling? His crystal-blue eyes didn’t show a thing. But that tiny hesitation did.
“Teddy,” he said, sounding pretty normal. “You named him after Eddie, huh? Great.”
He licked his upper lip quickly, then smiled and reached out to give her a one-armed hug. “Kayla, I’m so glad you have a piece of Eddie to hold on to. That is very cool.”
He was looking right into her eyes now, seeming completely sincere. “I can hardly wait to meet him.”
Glancing down, she realized, to her horror, that her fingers were trembling. Quickly, she shoved them under the hem of her sweatshirt.
“How about you?” she said, a little breathless. “I guess you’re not married.”
“Married!” His laugh was short and humorless. “You know me better than that.”
“If Pellea has her way, you soon will be.”
His deep, painful groan made her smile.
“Did you meet anyone interesting at the ball?”
“That wasn’t all the ball was about, was it?” His groan was louder this time. “Oh, lord, do you think she’s going to have more of them?”
“Of course. You have to marry someone. The others are all paired up already. Pellea wants to get you settled as well.”
His sigh was heartfelt as he leaned wearily across the little counter. “Why don’t you marry me? Then we can forget all about this nonsense and just be happy.”
She looked away. The very suggestion sent something skittering through her like sparks from fireworks and she took a quick, gasping little breath, trying to suppress the feeling.
Marrying Max—what a concept. Luckily, that would never happen, not even for the sake of convenience. There was no way Max could ever take care of her and her baby. It wouldn’t work. She’d been out in the world with him and she probably knew him better than she knew any other man, other than her husband. Max was born to be a bachelor.
Even Eddie had said so. “Max will never get married,” he’d told her when she tried to have a go at a little matchmaking at one point. “He’s like those animals that die in captivity. They can’t be tamed. They can’t even be gentled. Leave Max alone. He’ll just break their hearts. And yours, too.’”
Eddie was right, as usual. Max was not a man to hang your heart on. She shook her head and got up the nerve to meet his gaze again. “Sorry, Max. You’re going to have to walk that lonesome valley on your own.”
His mouth twisted with a bit of pretended chagrin, but he wasn’t really thinking about what she’d said. His gaze was skimming over her face, searching in her eyes, looking for something in the set of her lips. She wasn’t sure what he expected to see, but it was disturbing, and she turned away, heading back to the living room.
She could feel him watching her, as though his gaze were burning a brand into her back. She forced herself not to look, and finally he came after her and sank onto the couch.
“Come and sit down by me,” he said.
His voice was low and there was a new element in it … something different, something mysterious. She felt wary and her pulse stuttered and then began to move a bit faster. There was a sense of being a bit off-kilter. Somehow, the room seemed warmer. A new tension quivered in the air. Every time her eyes met his, the tension seemed thicker, more insistent, like a drumbeat beginning to make itself heard across a rain-forest jungle.
She took a deep breath and held it for a moment, trying to calm herself. They were just friends, but she worried that he might be edging toward something more. She couldn’t let that happen. Not again.
“Come on,” he coaxed. He wasn’t smiling but his gaze was warm. Almost smoldering.
She shook her head and dropped back into the chair. “No. I think I’ll stay here.”
“What’s the matter?” he asked her.
She licked her dry lips. “I think we need to keep a demilitarized zone between us,” she said, trying to sound casual and friendly at the same time.
His eyebrows shot up. “What are you talking about?”
She took a deep breath. How to begin?
“I’m serious, Max. I don’t think we ought to be close. You’re moving into a whole different sphere of life. I don’t belong there. Let’s not start anything that will have to be …” She shrugged, not sure she wanted to put it into words.
His bright gaze clouded and he appeared bewildered by what she’d said. “But you seem a part of this castle stuff and I’m just a beginner,” he pointed out. “What are you talking about with this ‘different sphere’ business?”
She wondered for just a moment if he were really that naive about the class structure in their society. Ambria had always been
a remote, self-absorbed little kingdom. Islands tended to breed peculiarities in animals and people if they were cut off from the mainstream for too long. Now that the monarchy had taken back control, after a twenty-five-year exile, and some of the old customs and rituals were being revived.
Royalty was royalty. It was special. That was all part of establishing authority and building back the old foundations. They were meant to be set apart from the common Ambrian. That was just the way it had to be.
“I’m an employee,” she told him cheerfully. “You’re a prince. Never the twain shall meet.”
He made a face as though he thought that was complete tripe, but he would accept her judgment for the moment.
“We can still be friends, can’t we? We can still talk.”
“Sure.”
He frowned. “I’m counting on you for that, you know.”
That was just the problem. “Max …”
He took in a deep breath. “Here’s the deal, Kayla. I don’t know what I’m doing here.” His gaze was hard now, insistent, and yet at the same time, completely vulnerable. “I don’t know if I can stand too much of this prince stuff. It’s not me.”
“Oh.” A flash close to pain went through her. He thought he couldn’t do this. And yet, how could she be surprised? This was exactly what she would have expected if anyone had asked her. But that didn’t mean she could let him go down this road without a struggle. He had to see how important it was.
“I’m willing to give it a go. For now. But I’m not feeling too confident. Most of my life has been lived on the other side of the divide. I don’t know if I can adapt.”
“Of course you can.” She wished she could find the words she needed to get through to him. “Max, you were meant to be a prince from the beginning. Don’t you see? The part where you lived on the streets was the mistake.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” He winced, then went on softly, his eyes looking dark and luminous, his voice barely hiding the years of uncertainty he’d lived through.
“Sometimes I think I never got a family because I didn’t deserve one. I was a misfit. A pretty bad misfit. And maybe I didn’t ever get that kind of family love because …” He looked up and met her gaze. “Because I’m just unlovable.”
She gasped. He wasn’t joking. His expression was serious, questioning. Now she had to stop herself from going to him, from sliding down beside him and pushing away his pain with her arms. And at the same time, everything in her wanted to do it.
“Max! How can you say that? Women adore you!”
He stared at her for a moment, then gave a half laugh, half grunt. “That’s not love, Kayla. That’s something else.”
Her head went back in surprise. Who would have believed Max would be the one to see the difference so clearly? But still, he seemed to be utterly blind to his own strengths. He was always so carefree and debonair. She’d never known he had this insecurity at his core. She had to make him see how wrong it was.
“Oh, come on. What did we used to call you? Mr. Casanova. A new girl on your arm every night.”
His sigh was full of regrets. “You see, that’s just it.” He took a long drink from his beer and stared into space. “Lots of new girls. No true love.”
It was hard to believe that a man this appealing, this attractive, thought he couldn’t find his soul mate. She looked at him, so handsome, so adorable. Her fingers ached to run through that thick auburn hair. It took all her will to stay where she was.
“Haven’t you ever been in love?” she asked him.
“Not really.” He squinted at her, thinking it over. “I don’t think so. Not like you and Eddie.” His smile was crooked. “I used to watch you two together and I think I hated you almost as much as I loved you.”
“Oh, Max …”
“You know what I mean. It was pure jealousy. You two were so good together, so … so devoted.” His voice broke on the word and she had to close her eyes and bite her lip to keep from going to him.
Devoted. Yes, that was exactly the way it had been. When she’d found Eddie, she couldn’t believe her luck. They’d met in an elevator in their apartment building in Paris. As they traveled up the floors, people got off, but the two of them remained, until they were alone and looking at each other tentatively across the empty car. Their eyes met. Love at first sight. And when they finally got to her floor, he admitted his had been four stops before. How could she not invite him in for a cup of coffee? Two months later, they were married.
When he’d died, she had thought life was over. She moved in a dark, menacing fog, blindly searching for some way out of the pain, not really believing it was possible. For days, she was obsessed, thinking of ways to join him. And then she realized she had someone else to think about.
“Do you remember …?” Max’s voice choked.
She stiffened. Here it came. She had to keep a cool front. Still, she had to tell the truth, at least as far as it was safe.
“I remember too much,” she said softly.
“Me, too.” He finished off his beer and looked at her. “I think about Eddie every day.”
She nodded, closing her eyes. “Me, too.”
She wasn’t going to cry. She had to hold it back. For a moment, she let herself recall the way it had been being married to Eddie. Sunshine every day. Champagne for breakfast. Walks on the beach and dancing barefoot to a reggae tune. Driving with the top down. Love in the afternoon. Eddie was the best. The very best.
But she couldn’t let herself think about him too much. That was a temptation that could sap her life away.
“Remember that day we went sailing in the bay,” he said, “and your straw hat flew off and Eddie and I jumped into the water and raced for it?”
She nodded, trying to smile. “We had a picnic on that little island and we ate all those cherries.”
“And then spent an hour rolling in the sand, moaning, with the worst stomachaches imaginable.”
She managed a half grin. “I thought we were going to die.”
He laughed. “I wanted to die.”
His words seemed to echo in the room. Eddie was the one who had died, not long after that sunny day.
She closed her eyes again. They had to stop this. No good could come of it. They were laying treacherous emotional land mines all around. If they didn’t stop, something was going to explode.
She wanted to stop. She tried. But somehow she couldn’t keep the words from coming.
“I remember when you and Eddie would fly off into those big thunder clouds,” she said softly, staring into the past, “like two falcons challenging the sky. It was so scary, but so magnificent. It made me shiver every time. I could hardly breathe. You were angels flying into the danger zone. And every time you came back victorious, another strike for the good guys, another strike for justice in the world.” She turned to look at him, emotion almost choking her. “I was so proud of you both.”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he shook his head and looked away, and she knew his voice was probably too rough to use right now.
She should stop. She should push this all away into the past. But she couldn’t. It was as though she had to get this out in the open in order to let it go. She tried not to say anything more, but the words came anyway.
“Everyone was proud of you. You were heroes. The best. The brightest stars.”
She swallowed hard, then reached out across the coffee table and took his hand.
“And then, on that dark, rainy day in November, you took off together, as usual, but you … you came back alone.”
She blinked, wondering why there were no tears in her eyes. She usually had tears by now when she went over this in her own head. Why wasn’t she crying?
“I stood there and watched your plane fly in, and I knew in my heart what it meant. But I didn’t want to accept it. I kept thinking, no, he’ll be coming. He’s just had engine trouble or took a wrong turn or …” Her voice choked and she took a deep, shuddering breath. “I k
ept staring into the horizon, looking for that black spot to appear against the sky.”
Her words seemed to echo against the walls as they both sat quietly, waiting for the pain to fade.
“Eddie was the best guy I ever knew,” he said at last, his voice rough as a rocky beach. “It should have been me.”
“No …” She held his hand as tightly as she could, with both her own.
“He was true and honest and brave. Not like me.”
“No,” she said fiercely. “Don’t ever say that.”
His face was twisted with pain. “Kayla, Kayla, it should have been me.”
She was next to him on the couch now, and she wasn’t sure how she got there. But she had to be with him, as close as she could get. She had to remind him of his own worth, his own value. She couldn’t let him feel this way.
She took his beautiful face between her hands and stared right into his eyes. “Eddie was a wonderful man. But so are you. You’re just as good and precious and worthy.”
He looked at her and winced, as though the light was too bright in that direction.
“I would trade it all to have him back again,” he muttered.
She shook her head. “I don’t think you can make bargains like that. I don’t think you can trade yourself. What happens, happens. We have to use it to make ourselves into better people.”
“Yeah.” He tried to twist away from her, then gave it up. “But it shouldn’t have been Eddie. Not Eddie.”
Her fingers dug into his hair and he looked down into her eyes. He was going to kiss her. She knew it and she knew she should stop him. She tried. But as his arms slowly wrapped around her and he pulled her body close, she could only sigh and raise her mouth to find his.
The moment was electric. They’d come together as though it were inevitable, as though they were pulled by a force they weren’t strong enough to fight. Everything in Kayla cried out with need for Max. In this primal moment, he was hers and she was ready to surrender again. Just like before. She clung to him, clung and arched into his embrace, waiting for the touch of his tongue.