The Prince's Fake Fiancée
Page 17
What was up with him?
Jasmine Gallagher.
The answer was so obvious; she’d been all that filled his thoughts—as he’d slept, as he’d run, and as he’d swum.
Over the past few days the concept of their relationship being fun or casual or easy had become farcical. With Jas he’d shared more than he’d ever shared with any other woman—but what did that mean?
What did it mean that last night he’d felt a fear that he’d never before experienced—the fear of losing the woman he...
What?
Loved?
No. It was too impossible.
Even considering the possibility seemed ridiculous. They’d been together only weeks, known each other not much longer.
But even if it was possible, it didn’t actually matter.
Because—after last night—he knew, inarguably, that he’d been right to never drag a woman into his life in any permanent way. Jas’s privacy had been irretrievably invaded because of him, and last night she could’ve been killed because of him.
That wasn’t acceptable.
Marko turned back onto his belly, and swam back the way he’d come. As he entered the cove he saw Jas standing at the end of the narrow jetty that stretched out from the far end of the rocky beach, and where he and Lukas had fished what felt like a hundred years ago.
So he swam to Jas.
At the wooden jetty, he hauled himself out of the water to stand beside her.
He realised, belatedly, that she was glaring at him, and her hands were placed firmly at her hips.
Then, before he had any idea what she intended, said hands were pressed forcefully against his chest—and, throwing her entire weight behind it, she shoved Marko straight back into the ocean.
They hit the water almost simultaneously, then surfaced less than a metre apart.
‘What the hell, Jas?’ he exclaimed.
She was treading water furiously, her hair slicked back, and her hazel eyes sparked with anger.
‘What the hell, Marko?’ she retorted. ‘Someone tried to kill you yesterday, and you just went for a swim and disappeared. How do you think I felt when I looked up from my book and I couldn’t see you?’
‘I wasn’t in any danger, Jas,’ he said, attempting a soothing tone.
‘But I didn’t know that!’ she snapped. ‘How could you be so bloody—?’
Her voice cracked, and she looked away, her eyes squinting in the bright sunlight.
He swam closer to her, reaching out to brush her fingers beneath the water with his own.
He’d scared her. Properly scared her. His brave, strong Jasmine.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t think.’
She snorted. ‘Obviously.’
She turned and swam the short distance back to the jetty. As he watched, she pulled herself out of the water, and then perched herself at the very end of the structure so her toes just dipped into the sea.
He followed suit behind her, and a minute later he was sitting beside her, the sun quickly evaporating the sheen of water from their skin.
* * *
Jas didn’t think she’d ever been as scared as she’d felt when she’d realised Marko wasn’t in the cove.
She’d raced down the jetty, searching the water desperately for him, while shouting his name.
Two from her team were waiting for them in the car above the dunes as Marko had insisted that they be allowed to relax in privacy. After last night, Jas had been too emotionally exhausted to argue. Plus, no one knew about this beach, and they’d made sure they weren’t followed. But as her feet had drummed against the wooden jetty boards she’d lambasted herself for her stupidity. If something had happened to Marko...
But then she’d seen him, swimming strong, easy strokes as he swam into view from beyond the cove.
It was only now, with Marko sitting beside her on the jetty, that her breathing returned to normal.
‘What’s going on, Marko?’ she asked abruptly.
Suddenly it seemed pointless to pretend any longer.
‘Between us?’ he asked.
She knew he knew what she meant, so she didn’t bother to respond. All day things had been weird between them. Last night had been intense. And, it appeared, a turning point.
At least for Jasmine.
‘I don’t know what’s going on,’ Marko said finally. ‘This isn’t what I expected when I kissed you at Mjesto za Ljubljenje. This is...more.’
More.
He shifted beside her so his body was angled towards hers. She did the same, tipping her chin upwards so that she could meet his gaze.
He was as handsome as always, even under the harsh Mediterranean sun that made his eyes crinkle at the corners.
‘More what?’ she said bluntly.
He laughed and shook his head. ‘You’re not making this easy, Jas.’
‘This isn’t easy,’ she pointed out.
‘No,’ he conceded. ‘This...us isn’t easy.’ Jas watched his Adam’s apple as he swallowed. ‘I’ve never felt like this with another woman, Jas,’ he said. ‘I know that.’
Jas nodded.
‘What do you think is going on?’ he asked, after a while.
She shrugged. ‘Something that I want to last longer than my contract,’ she said simply. ‘So I need you to let me know if that’s what you want, too, as otherwise...’
Here her bravado faded away.
‘Otherwise?’ he prompted.
‘Otherwise,’ she said, channelling her sensible, direct self, ‘I think it’s better if we end it now. I had the last man I thought I loved break my trust and my heart. I’m not going to wait around for that to happen again if it’s only inevitable.’
She was making it sound like if she walked away now it was ‘no harm, no foul’—but the ache already in her heart told her very, very differently.
But Marko didn’t need to know that.
It’s our job to protect each other.
If he really believed that, if he really felt that, then...
‘The last man you thought you loved?’ Marko said. ‘Love?’
His expression wasn’t shocked, exactly. More thoughtful. As if turning the idea over in his head.
‘Maybe,’ Jas said. ‘One day.’
Like, possibly, yesterday.
But Jas wasn’t allowing herself to think about that too much. And she certainly wasn’t going to tell Marko.
She might have let her dormant dreams of love and happiness and rainbows bubble towards the surface—but she hadn’t allowed them to bubble over. She’d learnt something, at least, from Stuart. Her trust, and her heart, weren’t so easily offered up now.
If Marko loved her—or could love her—she’d know soon enough.
It’s our job to protect each other.
So she needed to know: were they a team, or not?
‘Love...’ Marko repeated.
‘Yes,’ Jas said firmly. ‘Love.’
His gaze drifted out towards the horizon. ‘I don’t know, Jas. I’ve never been in a long-term relationship. I’ve literally never brought a woman home to the palace, or to meet my mother, until you. This is different, it’s unfamiliar—’
Jas pushed herself up to her feet, suddenly annoyed. ‘Marko, this isn’t about the past. Hell, if we’re going to dwell on the past you’d think I’ve got a pretty good reason to be cautious, don’t you think? Yet I’ve got the guts to tell you how I’m feeling, and you can’t even answer a simple question. What do you think’s going on between us, Marko?’ She looked up at the sky, the sun blinding her. ‘I need you to tell me.’
Jas squeezed her eyes shut against the glare, suddenly realising there was no ‘maybe’ or ‘one day’ when it came to Marko. She loved him.
The realisation made her throat t
ight and her eyes sting.
When she opened her eyes, Marko was also on his feet. She met his gaze, strong and steady.
His was steady too. No looking away from her now.
‘I’m a prince, Jasmine. My life...the life you would have with me... I don’t think you understand what you’d be getting into. I don’t think it’s fair to—’
‘You don’t think I’d understand?’ Jas said, furious now. ‘Don’t patronise me. The last month I’ve been literally beside you every step of your royal life. I’ve survived the paparazzi, an assassination attempt and a nude photo scandal. I think I get it, Marko.’
‘But it wasn’t real, Jas.’
Shocked, Jas turned on her heel, unable to be close to him right now.
How could he say that, when the past few weeks had felt more real than anything she’d ever experienced?
Halfway down the jetty his hand closed around her wrist. When she tried to tug away, he pulled her effortlessly against his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around her.
‘I’m so sorry, dragi moj,’ he said into her hair. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. The way I feel for you is real, I promise you. What we’ve had is real. But this whole time you’ve had an end date. You’ve known it’s not for ever. It’s different when it is. When you take on the burden of the world’s scrutiny for the rest of your life.’
For a long moment Jas just stood in his arms, her cheek pressed against his chest. She kept her eyes squeezed shut as she listened to his heartbeat, and sank against the rise and fall of his breathing.
Then, she stepped away.
‘That’s just an excuse, Marko,’ she said. ‘I have a life in Australia and a business that takes me around the world. This stuff is complicated, I get it. But it’s surmountable, to me. Nothing is insurmountable for the man I love.’
There. She’d done it. She’d said it.
Her declaration of love seemed to hang between them, their world silent beyond the murmur of the waves.
Then he shook his head. ‘It’s not an excuse, Jas.’
She put her hands on her hips. ‘Is it love, then—this thing between us? This thing you can’t explain? Do you love me?’
Marko’s gaze searched her face, tracing her eyes, her nose, her lips.
Jas kept her gaze steady, even as her heart drummed against her chest, and her throat felt so tight she could barely breathe.
‘I don’t know, Jas,’ he said finally as Jas desperately tried to work out what was going on behind his eyes. His expression was unreadable, but his gaze...
Then, he took a deep breath, as if he’d made a decision. ‘No, Jas,’ he said. ‘I don’t think it’s love.’
* * *
Jas hadn’t said a word.
Instead, she’d let his words hang between them, long enough that they began to feel tangible—as if Marko could reach out and snatch them back.
I don’t think it’s love.
But he didn’t take the words back. He just stood there and watched, and waited, as Jas’s bravado began to crumble.
But only for an instant.
Of course, Jas wasn’t one to crumble. She was a fighter, his Jasmine. That was what she’d been doing, here on the jetty. Fighting. For him, for herself. For them.
His Jasmine.
She wasn’t, of course. He had no right to even think such a thing as he watched her walk away from him. Her pace regular and determined. No more crumbling.
But also, no more fighting.
She’d fought for him, but he’d made his decision.
It was the right decision, for him. For both of them.
He knew that, absolutely, as the sun beat down on his bare skin, and his toes gripped the splintering boards of the jetty.
He followed her, but a while later.
His pace was slow. His limbs felt heavy—as if all the fight had seeped out of him.
Which made sense. The fight was over.
But then, why did he feel as if he’d lost?
Chapter Seventeen
Three days later
MARKO SAT BENEATH vines heavy with grapes, a glass of wine in his hand.
Lukas sat beside him, his mostly untouched lunch on the table before him. They both stared out across the olive groves. Inside, their mother was attempting to teach Petra how to make her secret version of crni rižoto—black cuttlefish risotto—and occasionally their bursts of laughter would travel outside to where Marko and Lukas sat in silence.
It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. Lukas was still fatigued from his latest round of chemotherapy, and he’d explained to Marko last time they’d spoken that he often found it hard to follow conversations—he was just too exhausted to pay careful attention.
But that suited Marko today, to just sit here and not make conversation. And to let his mind drift. To not think too much.
The past few days had been a blur. After the disaster of their day on the beach, he and Jas had returned to the palace. Jas had been adamant she’d continue her role as his fiancée, although Marko had disagreed. Continuing their lie seemed ludicrous now, although Jas had eventually convinced him that ‘breaking up’ was the worst thing to do given the turmoil and scandal of the past few days. Vela Ada and the palace needed their relationship to appear solid and unbreakable.
Yes, but what did Jasmine need? What did he need?
But he hadn’t asked those questions, and they’d instead avoided each other in the palace, and then both acted their backsides off when they’d headed to open a new oncology ward named after Marko’s father.
But spending time with Jas had been excruciating. To stop himself from touching her in all the ways that had become second nature—guiding her through doorways with a hand at her waist, holding her hand, standing just close enough so their arms brushed together...
Although he’d held her hand to help her out of their car when they’d arrived at the hospital. And that had almost been worse—to touch her, but know it was only for show...
This morning, Ivan had brought a message to him. Jas would like to return home for a week for her mother’s birthday.
He didn’t doubt it was her mother’s birthday, but he also knew she’d had no plans to go home for it until today. His instinct had been to go talk to her, to tell her to take all the time she needed. And that he was so sorry. So sorry he couldn’t give her what she needed. So sorry he couldn’t love her.
Instead he’d sent Ivan back with his approval, and not long after he’d watched from the terrace as she’d left—with her bodyguards—for the airport, in one of the palace cars. Behind tinted windows he couldn’t even see her, and briefly he’d fought the instinct to race down the stairs and go after her. And...
What, exactly?
Nothing had changed. He still knew he’d made the right decision.
‘Marko?’
Marko blinked, turning to face Lukas. Lukas was looking at him like someone who had been trying to get his attention for some time.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Just thinking.’
‘About Jasmine?’
Marko took a long sip of his wine. ‘Pardon me?’
Lukas grinned. ‘Come on,’ he said, ‘I’m sick, not stupid. Obviously there’s trouble in paradise.’
Marko shook his head. ‘Everything’s fine. I thought you didn’t like talking much at the moment.’
‘And I thought you didn’t like lying to your brother, and you’ve got pretty good at that.’
Marko put his glass down on the wooden table. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
Lukas sighed. ‘I know that you’re not really engaged to Jasmine. I suspected right from the start—it seemed exactly the type of crazy thing you would do. Petra disagreed with me and was positive it was all real—until you both visited here, and then she worked it out, too. But we w
eren’t going to say anything, because, honestly—it was a genius idea. No one cares about their King having a serious illness when they’ve got a new princess to get excited about.’
‘Glad to be of service,’ Marko said drily. There was no point at all in denying any of it. It had been years since he and Lukas had been close, but once they’d shared everything. Lukas still knew him better than almost anyone. Except Jas...
He mentally gave himself a shake. No, he wasn’t going there.
‘You have been,’ Lukas said, his expression serious. ‘I know you hate all the royal stuff, and, honestly, I didn’t know how you’d manage stepping in for me. But you’ve been brilliant, exactly the Prince that Vela Ada needed.’
‘Except for the photo scandal, and the assassination attempt—’
Lukas shrugged. ‘You couldn’t have responded better to either. You and Jasmine have captured the hearts of everyone. Vela Ada has fallen in love with you.’
Love.
That damn word again.
‘It’s remarkable, really,’ Lukas said. ‘How real your relationship has appeared.’
Marko met Lukas’s gaze. He knew what his brother was thinking; he knew his brother thought there was more to him and Jasmine than a contract.
Marko stood up. ‘She’s an incredible—’
He was going to say actress, but found he couldn’t.
Instead, he tried again: ‘She’s incredible,’ he said simply.
But it’s not real.
Turned out he couldn’t say that, either.
Marko then walked away, almost jogging really, down the slight slope to the edge of the olive grove, not wanting to discuss any of this with his brother.
A breeze rustled the leaves that surrounded him as he strode between the olive trees.
Lukas didn’t call out to him, but Marko had known he wouldn’t.
After a while, he did break into a jog. Then a run.
But no matter how fast he ran, he couldn’t escape from what he knew, and what he’d always known.
What he’d had with Jas was real. He’d told her that, on that jetty, but at the time it hadn’t been enough.
This morning, it hadn’t been enough. He’d convinced himself it wasn’t.
But now, he wasn’t so sure.