“You can’t go in there, sir.”
Gabe stopped with his hand on the door knob. “Pardon?”
“No one is to disturb the princess.” The young man looked like he wasn’t quite certain if he had the authority to keep Gabe out.
Good.
With a glare shot in the guard’s direction, Gabe turned the knob. “I am going to see my wife. Your objection has been noted.”
Inside the room, he saw Esmeralda before she saw him.
“Judy, did you get the schedule for next week changed?” she asked without turning around.
A large television sat across from the chaise where she lounged with what appeared to be a sappy Christmas made-for-TV movie playing on it.
“What changes for next week?”
She jumped and turned. “What are you doing in here?”
“Talking to my wife who has been avoiding me for days.”
Turning her attention back to the television, she at least paused the program. “I didn’t know we had plans.”
He walked around and sat on the couch next to her but not touching. “We’re on our honeymoon, Esmeralda. It’s kind of expected that we’d spend time together.”
“Everyone else might expect us to, but I didn’t know we had to live up to their expectations behind closed doors.”
“You’ve spent your entire life living up to the expectations of others, in public and private.”
She shifted so her legs were crossed on the seat in front of her instead of stretched out. Gabe wondered if there was a metaphor there. Something about being open to new experiences and relationships and being closed off to them.
“What do you want, Gabriel?”
Gabe moved to partially face her. “To get to know you. To let you get to know me outside of the tabloid gossip about both of us. Something we both know is only partly true at best.”
Maybe he should just tell her the whole truth and hope she believed him. Even if she didn’t, she wouldn’t be able to accuse him of keeping things from her.
“There’s something I should probably tell you,” he blurted out before he could change his mind.
“What?”
“The stories aren’t completely true.”
Her head twisted to the side allowing her to see him better. “What stories?”
It was Gabe’s turn to shift away. He stretched his legs out in front of him. “In the press. Those stories aren’t completely true.”
“Which stories?”
“The ones about me and women.”
“You’re not a playboy prince?”
The bitterness in her voice didn’t surprise Gabe, but the nickname hurt, like it was supposed to.
“I was,” he admitted. “I had years of wild-oat-sowing or whatever you want to call it, but that ended a long time ago.”
It took her a minute to respond. “It did?”
“Before I kissed you a couple of weeks ago, it had been at least five years since I kissed a woman. It’s been even longer since I slept with one.” He closed his eyes. “No. I never actually slept with anyone until our wedding night. One of us always left.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her swipe at a tear. “So you haven’t been intimate with a woman in over five years, but how many women were there in the years before that, Gabriel? How many times did you betray an engagement you knew would be enforced before you stopped?”
A question that deserved an answer, but there was only one answer he knew to give. “I don’t know.”
* * *
The admission cut Esme, though it didn’t surprise her.
“Probably not as many as you’d think, but far more than there should have been,” Gabriel went on. “It seemed like I was in the news on a weekly or even daily basis, and sometimes I probably was, but I didn’t have that kind of relationship with all of the women I went out with.”
“But you had it with women you were never publicly connected with, didn’t you? Like that woman in your hotel room.”
“Yes,” he admitted. “I’ve made mistakes, a lot of them, in the past. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’m asking for it anyway. I understand if you can’t give it now, or ever really, though I hope I can prove myself over time. I did betray our engagement. I knew we’d end up getting married eventually. At first, I justified by thinking you’d probably do the same thing - or something similar anyway. That you’d sow oats of your own before we settled down, but you didn’t.”
Not really.
The prick of her conscience was easily brushed off in light of the difference in their two experiences.
“I want to get to know you, Esmeralda. I want you to get to know me, the real me. Not the one in the grocery store checkout line.” He looked at her, and she could tell he was sincere.
“You’ve never been in a grocery store checkout line,” she shot back.
“My picture has been. Many times. Yours has been too, occasionally. My point is that neither one of us is what the papers, tabloid or not, report. I want to get to know the real you and for you to get to know the real me. That can’t happen if you’re sitting in here watching HEA TV movies and avoiding me. We’ve got sixty years ahead of us, more or less, and neither one of us wants this kind of dissatisfying relationship.”
He had a point, one she’d made to herself several times, but didn’t know how she felt about actually making it happen. “Fine. You’re not the guy in the headlines, the one who was seen with a super model a month before our official engagement was announced. How do we go about getting to know each other? Because we’re still not sleeping in the same bedroom anytime in the near future.” Except possibly while they were in Auverignon. She wouldn’t budge on that. Not yet. Probably not ever, but if she decided she could trust him, then someday.
Maybe.
Gabriel shifted and knelt on the floor next to her, taking her hand. “First, can you forgive me? Or will you at least think about forgiving me?”
How could she not when he looked so earnest? “Fine, Gabriel. I’ll think about it, pray about it even.”
He gave her that infuriating wink. “I’m pretty sure I know what the Bible has to say on the matter, even if I hadn’t asked.”
Esme knew he had a point, but she didn’t want to admit it aloud.
“Plus, we’re married. We’ve slept in the same bed. We’re tied together for life. I think you can call me Gabe now. All my friends and family do.”
“Did they?” Esme managed to hide her wince. She hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but part of her wanted to know if he’d considered any of the other women friends or family.
He shook his head. “Not with permission. I never gave any of the other women in my life permission to call me Gabe. Some of them did anyway, and I didn’t always correct them, but you’re the first woman I’ve asked to call me that.”
She could live with that. Better than all of them being told to call him by the same nickname he’d told her to use.
His look was so sincere she couldn’t do anything but nod. “Fine. I’ll consider it. Gabe.” She should give him permission to call her Esme, but that seemed a bit too familiar still.
“That’s all I can ask at this point.” He kissed the back of her hand, right above the ring he’d placed there several weeks earlier. Gabe moved to his seat, next to her, and linked their fingers together. “Shall we watch this movie together, or is it almost over and I can catch the next one?”
Esme sank a little further back into the couch and slightly away from him. “I’m only about five minutes in. I can start it over if you’d like.”
“Nah. Just catch me up on anything I missed.”
“Not much has happened yet. The heroine did a little humming thing as she put flowers around her parents’ bed and breakfast in a small town in New England somewhere. The hero’s boss just sent him to her town to try to buy out the bed and breakfast. She’s still happy and flitting around the inn. He’s grumpy and headed to the airport.”
&nb
sp; “Got it.” He nodded toward the remote. “Go ahead.”
Gabe turned out to be decent movie watching company. He didn’t talk too much but did ask an occasional question if he felt he didn’t understand something. There was no overanalyzing of the ridiculous plotlines or the perfection of everyone’s clothes, hair, and make-up when a blizzard knocked out the power to the bed and breakfast.
When the hero and heroine ended up taking over for her parents as they retired, Gabe sat up. “Okay. My first HEA TV movie down. Which one’s next?”
Esme raised an eyebrow at him. “You really want to watch another one? You know they’re all basically the same story, except the next one might be a bakery or one of them might secretly be a prince or something?”
His eyes took on a twinkle. “There are movies about princes?”
“Of course there are. Christopher Bayfield, brother-in-law to Queen Christiana of Ravenzario, is even in one of them.”
Gabe laughed with an abandon Esme seldom saw from anyone. “Can we watch that one?”
“I’m not sure I have access to it through the app, but if I do, we can. I only saw part of it not long after it first came out.”
He finally let go of her hand and stood up. “If we’re watching this, then I need popcorn and something to drink.”
Esme let herself smile as he found the kitchenette and started looking through the cabinets.
“Do you have popcorn in here?”
“I don’t know,” she called back to him without turning around. “You may need to ask the kitchen.” She didn’t do the microwave stuff. Ever. She’d tried it for the convenience, but as much as she liked buttered, it was either too much or not enough. The salt was never quite right either.
Esme picked up her phone. “Why don’t I send for some and then have dinner brought in about the time the movie ends?”
“That sounds great.” He walked back into the living room with a bottle of water. “I remember watching 2 Cool 4 School with my friends sometimes when I was a teenager. I’d met Alexander Bayfield at his wedding to Christiana but had no idea it was the same guy.”
He admitted to watching the show? She had too, but it was a guilty pleasure and hadn’t told a soul. “No one did.”
Gabe settled back onto the couch next to her and picked up the remote. “Shall we?”
8
By the time night fell, Gabe sat in the corner of the sofa with his feet stretched out in front of him and his wife curled into his side as she slept. He didn’t want to move her, but he knew neither one of them would be comfortable for much longer. They’d also be stiff and sore in the morning, though he did have a plan to deal with that the next evening after the parasailing.
Clicking the television off, he took a breath and decided to move her into her bedroom. He’d respect her wishes to sleep elsewhere - she’d mentioned it again when they decided to change into more comfortable clothes after dinner - but he’d sleep in another room in the same suite rather than returning to his own.
The movies had been about what he expected. Saccharine and a little too perfect, but they’d had enjoyable moments as well. He’d met Christopher Bayfield in passing a time or two. If they met again, Gabe would give him a hard time about the movies. They’d watched two of the three movies Christopher had already done and talked about watching the 2 Cool 4 School sequel put out by MyBingeFlix - Seating 4 Six - but Esmeralda fell asleep half an hour before the last movie ended.
Gabe finished watching it anyway.
He moved carefully, slipping away from her before stretching then turning to pick her up. As he walked toward her room, he realized he probably should have checked to see if her covers were turned down, but it was too late. If nothing else, he’d pull a sheet off his bed to cover her with. It was warm enough she wouldn’t need much.
He needn’t have worried. Someone had already taken care of it. He wondered if there were hidden entrances allowing staff could come and go as needed without being seen. She settled onto her side and snuggled into her pillow as he covered her up.
The other side of the bed looked so empty, but he wouldn’t sleep there until she asked him to. Instead, he brushed her hair away from her face and pressed a kiss to her temple.
“Sleep well, love,” he whispered before turning and going back to the living area then to his own room.
When morning came, Esmeralda woke before him. He could hear her in the other room. After taking care of his morning business, he joined her in the living area. She’d already made her own coffee.
“Breakfast is on the way,” she told him between sips.
“Thanks.”
He found a second cup of coffee already started in the kitchenette. It wasn’t close enough to done for her to have doctored it the way he did, but it was a nice gesture, nonetheless. When it finished, he put sugar in it and walked toward the sitting area.
“I started it as soon as I heard you moving around, but it takes longer to get ready than you so...” She looked over at him as he sat down. “Of course, it doesn’t take long when you don’t look in the mirror before leaving the bathroom.” Her eyebrows lifted over her coffee cup as she took another sip.
Gabe grinned and ran a hand through his hair, probably making it stick up even more in the process. “I’m not going anywhere, and I’m still wearing the clothes I slept in. A little bedhead never hurt anyone.”
He noticed that while she wasn’t completely put together like she would be if she was going out, Esmeralda did have her hair pulled back neatly into a ponytail.
“It’s a good thing there are no cameras in here.”
Gabe chuckled. “I can see the headline now. Future Prince Consort’s Hair Does Move.” He’d been given a hard time in the nastier press for always having his hair neat. There’d even been more than one accusation that he used a toupee. The charge was ridiculous, but this picture would definitely prove it wrong.
“You haven’t shaved either.” Her nose wrinkled in a completely adorable way Gabe could find himself getting used to. “I like the clean-shaven look better.”
Gabe rubbed the two-day growth on his chin. “Duly noted.” He’d shave when he took a shower after breakfast.
Esmeralda stared into her coffee cup. “Thank you.”
“For what?” He genuinely didn’t know what she could be thanking him for.
“Putting me to bed last night and sleeping somewhere else.” She still didn’t look at him.
“Of course, but did you really think I’d have slept with you when you didn’t want me to?” Did she think that little of him?
He wasn’t sure he wanted the answer.
“I don’t know. It wouldn’t have surprised me. We are married, after all.” Esmeralda wrapped both of her hands more tightly around her mug.
“You asked me not to. I won’t until you tell me I can.” He hesitated. “Unless there’s some other compelling reason to. Like if you’re sick and need someone close by. Then maybe, but not if there wasn’t a good reason.” Even then, he acknowledged to himself, she wouldn’t want him there, but rather her assistant or maybe a nurse.
She nodded. “Thank you.”
A knock on the door interrupted whatever else they might have said, and a few minutes later they were seated at the table on the veranda with breakfast in front of them. Gabe reached for her hand, taking it in his before giving thanks for their breakfast and for the beginnings of their relationship.
As they ate, Gabe asked her about her favorite things. What kinds of flowers did she like? Her favorite cocktail. Favorite designer, though he didn’t recognize the name. Favorite author. Favorite everything.
He’d never remember all of the answers. Maybe he could get her to write it all down for him. Or talk slower, and he’d take notes on his phone.
“We have plans, dinner plans, and plans after dinner,” he told her. “Nothing big, just a late meal and a surprise.”
Her eyes lit up. “A surprise?”
Gabe gave her one of hi
s half-smiles. “Yes. Nothing to get too excited about, but yes, I’ve arranged for a couple of surprises.” His assistant had, but Gabe had given the directions.
She held up her glass of juice. “I look forward to it.”
* * *
As Gabe opened the door to one of the sitting rooms, Esme hung back. They’d had a good twenty-four hours together, but she wasn’t sure how she felt about this surprise.
After watching sappy movies with her, he’d respected her wishes and slept separately. She really hadn’t expected that he would. Esme wanted him to but had been dubious as to whether he really would. They’d spent the afternoon parasailing and watching a few episodes of 2 Cool 4 School from the hot tub and outdoor plunge pool. He’d mentioned his original plan of watching the sunset from the sky, but she preferred his new plan of watching it as they ate. The whole time, she’d worn a modest one piece with a skirt.
He hadn’t ogled.
At all.
Esme wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
On one hand she was glad, because she didn’t want him ogling her.
On the other hand, he said he found her attractive, but he wasn’t acting like it.
Not that she wanted him to.
Esme had spent the day waffling over what she wanted and trying not to be annoyed with him, though she knew there was no justification for it.
“Are you coming?” Gabe waited as he held the door for her.
Once inside, her eyes narrowed. “A couples massage?” The two massage tables were set close to each other but not too close.
“Kind of.” He took her hand and led her toward the two women standing there. “You’ve complained of headaches several times lately. Some of them were understandable.”
Like the morning after their wedding when she’d spent half her night in tears.
He went on. “I started getting headaches a few years ago. My doctor put me on a low dose of medicine. Ironically, it caused double vision and a Nystagmus which, in turn, caused more headaches. My eye doctor recommended something called a craniosacral massage. I went off the medicine and get the massages every two or three weeks most of the time. I don’t get headaches nearly as often, unless there’s some other outside reason for them - like weather swings or a bump to the head.”
The Spare and the Heir Page 6