He didn’t reply but extended his elbow to her again. “I came up with the ring. You get to come up with the story.”
She didn’t reply, but the door opened from the outside. Uniformed doormen stood to the side as Gabriel moved forward with her this time. They walked down the steps then followed the winding path until they reached an open area with banks of photographers on the other side.
They reached the spot marked on the path. The mark was small and discreet, but there. It kept the reporters close enough to be heard but far enough away Esme and Gabriel wouldn’t feel mobbed. None of the photographers would get in each other’s way.
“How long have you been engaged?”
“Where did Prince Gabriel propose?”
“Why the rush for the wedding? Are you pregnant?”
“Let us see the ring!”
That she could do. Esme slipped her hand out of Gabriel’s elbow. He took her fingers and held them so the ring was visible to their cameras.
“Is that a family ring?”
“Who designed it?”
“Is there any significance to the ring or the stones?”
He answered all of them before Esme could think about the replies. “No. I did. Yes.”
Gabriel’s answer surprised her, but Esme schooled her features to reflect a serene smile.
“What’s the significance?” the same reporter called.
Gabriel released her hand and slid his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to his side than was appropriate in public. “That’s between us, but I happen to know that the princess loves sapphires. The sapphire is from my family’s collection.”
“You were seen with supermodel Fiona Westgate in New York a month ago. What changed?”
Gabriel pulled her even closer. “The WLRS exercise a few weeks ago was a surprise to a number of us. In those moments before we knew everything would be all right, I knew I wanted to marry the princess as soon as possible. She agreed.”
Esme glanced up to see that half-smile of his cross his face.
“Now, in two weeks, I’ll be married to the most beautiful woman in the world which will make me the happiest man around.”
She wasn’t sure what to make of that. Or any of it. How much of his persona was an act? An hour earlier, Esme would have said all of it, but now she wasn’t quite as sure.
“Will you give up your spot in the line of succession in Auverignon?”
“Does your grandfather approve?”
“What about your father?”
“Does Queen Carlotta approve?”
“Prince Gabriel, will you be happy as a prince consort? Always playing second fiddle?”
With those questions, ones Esme didn’t want to answer and suspected Gabriel didn’t either, they turned and started back toward the palace. Rather than offering her his arm again, Gabriel took her hand. He didn’t link their fingers or anything relationship-ish like that, just held it loosely.
Once back inside the palace he let go and walked away with his assistant who’d flown in from Auverignon.
So much of what he’d said outside didn’t make sense to her. He’d designed her ring? When? He hadn’t had time since he was told the wedding would be in less than a month.
He knew she liked sapphires.
Not a huge stretch. She wore them regularly. It had been in the articles about her. But one from his family’s vault? And the ring had meaning to both of them? What meaning?
She started for her own quarters, ready to take a shower and get ready for the next thing on her schedule. Or had her schedule been cleared for the day because of the announcement?
Regardless, Esme needed time to think.
In two weeks, she’d be a married woman.
Married to a man who wasn’t used to women saying no to him, no matter what she’d told him earlier in the day.
She kicked her shoes off as she walked through the door to the apartment she’d lived in since she turned eighteen.
Would she share it with Gabriel, or would they move to a different residence?
Esme was torn. She loved her apartment, and didn’t want to leave it, but did she really want Gabriel in her space?
Of course, her “space” had fifteen rooms and six bedrooms. She could go days without seeing Gabriel if she gave him one of the bedrooms on the other end from hers.
With her heels dangling from two fingers on her right hand, Esme stared at the ring on her left. With a sigh, she started for her room, the biggest and best one in the apartment.
Trying to figure out how far away she could live from her husband while technically still in the same apartment probably didn’t bode well for her potential marriage.
But what was she supposed to do about it?
* * *
Gabe walked with his assistant, Russell, toward the garrison where his car waited. “What’s on the schedule for the rest of the day?”
More than anything he wanted to find Esme and talk to her, explain everything.
But he’d promised, even if only to himself.
Was the promise still in effect once Gabe had a wife? Surely he wasn’t expected to keep secrets from his wife.
“Your schedule is clear, sir. It was expected you would spend the day with your fiancé.”
The disapproval in his assistant’s voice was hard to miss. “Well, I don’t appear to be.”
“No, sir.”
“I’m free the rest of the day?”
“I believe there is some paperwork from your grandfather waiting for you on the desk at the hotel.”
And MyBingeFlix to stream. Gabe was far more likely to binge on an old sitcom than do any work.
When he reached the garrison, a Rolls Royce waited for him. Not what he wanted to drive. His Aston Martin would be here in a few weeks. As would his McClaren. Until then, a staid sedan would have to do.
Daniel, his head of security, and at least one more member of his security team drove behind him.
Would they be replaced? Would he have a new team provided by the Sargassian government? Would it be a subset of Esme’s team?
So many questions and so few answers.
A few people in the cars around Gabe recognized him. They waved and gave him thumbs up. The smiles were nice. He smiled and lifted a single hand in return when the vehicle wasn’t moving through the streets of Ancora, Sargasso’s capital city. He nodded when it was. No sense in people giving him a hard time for not having both hands on the wheel.
Ten minutes later, he pulled into the drive leading to the Heathcliff Resort. At the entrance to the building, a valet opened his door as Gabe slid it into park.
“Congratulations on your engagement, sir.” The man bowed slightly. “We all wish you and the princess a long and happy marriage.”
“Thank you.” He walked toward the door someone else held open for him, then straight to one of the VIP elevators where he swiped his room key. The elevator arrived in seconds. He stepped in and didn’t need to press a button to be whisked to his penthouse suite.
The door slid open into the common area. Several seating areas called to him, but he didn’t succumb. First, he needed to change out of his suit into something much more comfortable.
“Uh, sir?”
Gabe looked up from the cuff link he’d been working on and raised an eyebrow.
“There’s something you should know.”
Gabe still didn’t say anything, but turned to look more directly at Jack, the newest member of his security team.
“Um...”
Before Jack could say anything else, slender arms slipped around Gabe’s waist.
He froze.
This couldn’t be happening.
“Hey, Gabe.” The sultry voice sounded vaguely familiar, but Gabe couldn’t place it.
Gabe grasped both of her wrists and separated her hands, stepping away from her. He turned to see a woman he sort of recognized, but couldn’t begin to name.
Despite his best efforts to look only at her face, he couldn’t hel
p noting the tousled dark hair, the barely-buttoned dress shirt with too-long sleeves, and bare feet. “Can I help you?”
“You told me to come see you next time you were here.” The pout on the augmented lips did nothing for him like it might have several years earlier.
“Things change. You don’t have permission to be here.” Could he keep Esme from finding out about this? Or the tabloids?
She held up a business card, one he recognized. He’d given them out occasionally in the past. They were special ones, ones that allowed limited access to him. The carrier, always an attractive woman, would be shown to his quarters in the location listed on the card, but wouldn’t be left alone.
He never gave more than one per city - or country depending on its size - but he’d never given any out in Sargasso.
Years earlier, he’d told his security team they no longer held any meaning and should not be used to give a woman access to him.
Deep down, Gabe hadn’t liked the person he’d been back then, even at the time, but he couldn’t change who he’d been. He could only be someone better now.
Right now, he just needed to get this woman out of his suite and have a discussion with the newest member of his security team about who was allowed in.
Right before he fired the man.
Probably.
“Get dressed and leave,” he instructed the woman.
She took a step toward him, but he crossed his arms over his chest and gave his best displeased look.
With a huff, she turned on her heel and stalked back into the bedroom.
His bedroom.
Could he even stay there anymore, knowing she’d likely been waiting on his bed? It seemed so... sordid.
He wouldn’t have thought that way a month earlier, even if he would have kicked the woman out then as well.
“Jack?” Gabe didn’t turn to look at the security guard.
“Yes, sir?”
“Get that card from her before she leaves.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I specifically told all members of my team years ago that those cards should be confiscated if one turned up and, under no circumstances, should the woman be shown to my quarters. Beyond that, I’ve never given a card out for Islas del Sargasso.”
Not when he’d known for over twenty years that he’d marry their Crown Princess.
Jack bowed slightly at the waist. “I am sorry, sir. I was never informed of the change. I worked your team once a number of years ago before that change had been implemented.”
“You’re aware now.” Gabe started toward one of the other rooms. “See she leaves immediately.”
“Yes, sir.”
The elevator doors whispered open. Esme stepped into the seating area. She’d changed out of her dress and into skinny jeans, a bright blue tank top with a filmy white shirt buttoned over it, and brown leather boots that hugged her calves up to her knees.
“Esme.” Gabe felt the color rush from his face. “What are you doing here?”
“My name is Esmeralda.”
Because she’d never given him permission to shorten it.
“I needed to talk to you about...” She stopped as she looked past him. The expression on her face turned to agony then hardened as she brushed past him to take a seat on his favorite couch. Her hand waved toward the woman who hadn’t changed her clothes at all. “Go on. Have your liaison. I can wait.”
Gabe didn’t know what else to do so he grabbed Esme’s hand and pulled her toward one of the other rooms, as he yelled at Jack. “Get her out of here.”
But would Esme believe him when he told her the truth?
3
How could she control her fury?
And her hurt.
But Esme let Gabriel pull her along into one of the bedrooms. He closed the door behind them, blocking out that woman and whoever else was in the main room.
“I had no idea she was here,” he started, letting go of her hand. “I’d already told Jack to make sure she left and was headed in here. She didn’t have my permission to be in my hotel. I have no idea why she was in my room.”
Esme didn’t buy that for a second. “No idea? Really? I’m pretty sure she had one thing on her mind. Probably a thing the two of you have done before.”
Gabriel sank into the chair behind him and ran both hands through his hair. “Probably.” The admission seemed to pain him.
He didn’t know? Esme didn’t want to think about the reasons for that. “Your life isn’t exactly a secret.”
“And you don’t know me as well as you think you do. Yes, I’ve had one-night stands. A lot of them. That can’t be a surprise to you or anyone else, but I never had one here.”
Esme glanced around the room. “Like in here?”
“No. In Sargasso. I never dated anyone here. Ever.”
“Dated? Is that what you’re calling it?”
He didn’t look at her. “It’s more polite than anything else I could call it.”
Something about his demeanor struck her as odd, contrite even. “What do you want from me, Gabriel?”
“I want you to believe me.”
Did she? Esme wasn’t sure but told him what he wanted to hear. “Fine. I believe you. She wasn’t supposed to be in your room, and you’ve never dated in Sargasso.”
“And I would never cheat on you.”
That she didn’t believe.
His shoulders slumped then straightened as he finally looked at her again. “Was there something you needed? Why did you come here?”
Why had she come? Esme realized she was fiddling with the ring on her finger.
Right.
The engagement.
“My mother would like us to be seen out doing things together. She thought dinner tonight would be a good start. Somewhere not too fancy.”
Gabriel had been leaning forward with his elbows on his knees but now he slumped backward in his seat. “You couldn’t call me?”
“I don’t have your number.” How ridiculous did that sound?
“Your assistant does. Your mother does. There are ways for you to get in touch with me without coming all the way down here.”
He had a point. “I didn’t think about it,” she admitted. She hadn’t wanted anyone, even her assistant or mother, to know that she needed help getting in touch with her fiancé.
Gabriel pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it over. “Put your number in there then send a text.”
Esme took it from her and pressed the button. “What’s the password?” He wouldn’t give it to her. Why would he?
“Your birthday.”
That startled her, and Esme stared at him for a moment before entering it.
“I won’t have a second phone, and I won’t change my password without telling you. If you want to look through my texts, or phone log, or emails, you can. I have nothing to hide.”
Esme froze as she stared at the main screen of his phone. His lock screen photo had been of his family. The screensaver behind the apps was one of her. She didn’t know he’d taken it, but it was on the beach a few weeks earlier, before they’d been taken hostage. If she remembered right, she and Jacqueline Grace had been laughing about something inane.
“Why?” she asked him.
“Because I don’t want to have secrets from you. I want you to trust me, to believe me when I tell you there are no other women.”
“And I can look at anything I want, any time I want?”
“Yes.”
He was a prince with an assistant and multiple bodyguards. Just because he gave her access to his phone didn’t mean he couldn’t get around that to find women.
Was it an empty gesture to pacify her, or did it mean something more?
She found his contacts and entered her information before sending herself a text, so she’d have his number. After handing his phone back, Esme replied to the text that appeared on her screen.
We have engagement pictures tomorrow.
“Just let me know whe
n, where, and what clothes I need.”
“A suit, your uniform, and something more casual. There will be a variety of photos taken, but they’ll all be at the palace.”
“When do I move in?”
Did he really think he’d be invited to live with her before this farce of a wedding? “After we get back from the wedding trip.”
Or longer if she could find a way to work that out.
Never would be good, though that wouldn’t work if she needed him for an heir.
And a spare.
Esme hated being thought of as the heir. As though her only value in life was genetic happenstance and birth order.
It also bothered her that she was thinking of Gabriel like that - for the kind of... services she would need to have a child. The crassness of it all disturbed her on a soul-deep level.
Would it also bother Gabriel?
Esme was disinclined to think it would, but she didn’t really know the man.
“What time are the photos?” His voice cut through her reflections.
“Early. He wants some ‘nighttime’ shots that will actually be pre-dawn, as well as some early morning ones. Expect it to last several hours, if not most of the morning. He wants some of the formal shots in the dark, but my mother doesn’t want to wait until tomorrow night. She wants the first of the photos released tomorrow.”
“Then why don’t we do the formal shots this evening? Get a good night’s sleep, then do whatever other ones he wants later?”
Esme blinked. It was a logical option, and it surprised her he’d come up with it.
“I don’t know. I’ll ask.” She texted her mother, asking if they could start the pictures in the evening instead of waiting.
Before she received a response, the door leading to the common sitting area opened.
“She’s gone, sir.” His security guard poked his head in as he spoke.
When Esme looked at him, Gabriel’s face was set in stone and etched with fury.
“Jack, you’re new, but this is the only warning you’ll get. When I’m alone in a bedroom with the beautiful woman who is going to be my wife, you only come in uninvited in case of fire or imminent threat to one of us. Do I make myself clear?”
The Spare and the Heir Page 2