Seduced by the Spare Heir

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Seduced by the Spare Heir Page 12

by Andrea Laurence

He was grateful that she’d agreed to stay. She just hoped that would still be the case in the upcoming weeks.

  Ten

  Serafia should’ve woken up on cloud nine. She was in love, she’d agreed to stay in Alma with Gabriel and everything was perfect. And yet there was a cloud hanging over her head. It was as though she couldn’t let herself breathe, couldn’t let herself believe that this was really going to work between them, until after today.

  Today was the last hurdle before the coronation. After today’s public appearance, Gabriel would have met all the initial requirements and could settle quietly into his life at Alma while the preparation for the coronation took place. She didn’t anticipate any problems today. All they had to do was make it through the tour of one of Patrick Rowling’s oil platforms off the coast, but for some reason, she woke up anxious.

  They got on the road after breakfast, driving the hour back into Del Sol, where they would take a helicopter out to sea. Helicopters. Better safe than sorry, she decided to get his opinion on it during their drive to the capital.

  “Are you okay with helicopters?” Serafia asked.

  Gabriel straightened his tie and nodded. “Helicopters are fine. The weather seems pretty calm today, so it shouldn’t be a bumpy ride.”

  “Good.” She sighed with relief. That was one less worry. “The only other option to get out there is to take a boat and get lifted by crane onto the platform while you cling to a rope and metal cage called a Billy Pugh. I wasn’t looking forward to that at all.”

  Gabriel smiled. “That actually sounds pretty cool.”

  “You’re the rebellious one,” she said. “I’m interested in staying alive.”

  “Fair enough. How far out is the oil platform?”

  Serafia looked down at her tablet as their car approached the heliport. “The one we’re going to is about twelve kilometers off the coast. It’s the newest one they’ve constructed and Patrick is very eager to show off his new toy.”

  Gabriel frowned. “I’m sure he is.”

  “What’s that face about?”

  “I’m not sure how I feel about the Rowlings yet. At least Patrick. He seems a little showy, a little too cocky for my taste. His sons seem nice enough, although I can’t wait to see the look on Bella’s face when she’s introduced to the guy Dad wants her to marry. If there aren’t instant fireworks between them, she just might kill our father in his sleep. We might need her to stay at the beach house when she gets here.”

  “I wouldn’t worry too much about Patrick or Bella today. I’m sure the trip will be fine and you’ll be off the hook for a while until the coronation. Today, we’ll be flying over with Prime Minister Rivera. He asked to join us on the tour.”

  “What about Hector?”

  “Apparently he doesn’t do helicopters, but he’s briefed everyone and he’ll be meeting with you afterward to go over how it went with Rivera.”

  “That’s fine. I’ve only had one short meeting with the prime minister, so it’s probably a good idea to have some more face time. I don’t think we’ll get much talking done in the helicopter, though. Aren’t they loud?”

  Serafia had never been in one, but she’d heard they were. “Yes. I’m pretty sure you won’t be conducting any business in the helicopter.”

  He nodded and relaxed back into the seat. “Good. I’m not sure I’m ready for any hard-core discussions. Is the helicopter large enough for the royal guard, as well? That’s quite a few of us to fit into one.”

  Serafia shook her head. “They’ve already got a crew of guards there at the rig. They cleared the platform this morning and are standing by for your arrival. All the details have been taken care of,” she assured him. Turning to glance out the window, she realized they were at their destination. “And here we are.”

  They climbed from the car at the heliport and made their way over to the helicopter waiting for them. The prime minister was already there, rushing over to shake Gabriel’s hand. Then as a group, they climbed into the helicopter and headed out to sea.

  Serafia was glad Gabriel was okay with helicopters. She wasn’t exactly thrilled with the idea, so it was good that at least one of them wasn’t freaking out. When the engine started, she put on the ear protection and closed her eyes. The liftoff sent her stomach into her throat, but after a few minutes the movement was steady. Thankfully it wouldn’t take long to get out there, so she took some deep breaths and tried not to think about where she was.

  A thump startled her, and she opened her eyes in panic only to realize they’d already landed on the oil platform. Thank goodness. Everyone climbed out and Patrick came to greet them. With him, he had the lead rig operator, his son William and a few members of Patrick’s management team who always seemed to be following him around. This, in addition to a large contingent of press, as always. They’d come out earlier on the boat. Once everyone was fitted with hard hats, the tour began.

  With all the cameras so near today, Serafia decided to take a step back from Gabriel. There was no need to stir any more rumors or give any of them a reason to write another scathing article about her family or their romance. He didn’t seem to notice she was gone. With everything going on, he surged ahead, carried by the crowd with Rivera and Patrick Rowling at his side.

  Serafia trailed the group as they walked around the open decks of the platform, admiring the massive drill and other equipment. She couldn’t hear what Patrick and the others were saying, but she didn’t mind. She wasn’t really that interested.

  After that, they went inside to tour the employee quarters and cafeteria, the offices and the control room. It was a tight fit for the men who lived on the rig up to two weeks at a stretch.

  The day was going fairly well, so far. She’d begun to think she’d been anxious for no reason.

  It wasn’t until they went back outside and started climbing down a set of metal stairs that went below the platform that Serafia started to feel the niggling of worry in the back of her mind. The only thing below the platform were the emergency evacuation boats, some maintenance equipment and the underwater exploration pod they used for maintenance.

  Oh God. Her heart very nearly leaped out of her chest and into her throat when she realized what was about to happen.

  The submarine.

  She’d forgotten all about it. It had always been a part of the plan. They were to tour the oil rig, and then their exploration pod, which was essentially a small, four-man submarine, would take Gabriel under the surface to see the rig at work. It was a harmless photo op, and when she was given the original itinerary, she hadn’t thought a thing about it. Gabriel certainly hadn’t mentioned having a problem with it when they discussed the agenda back in Miami.

  Since then, she’d learned about Gabriel’s issues with small, dark spaces, but so much had happened that the submarine had slipped her mind.

  That had to be where they were going. Unfortunately there were twenty people between Gabriel and her on the narrow deck and staircase. He was below the platform and she was stuck above it at the very back of the pack. She was unable to get close enough to warn him before it was too late.

  She rushed to the metal railing, peering over the side at the party below. They were still walking around while Patrick pointed out one thing or another, but she could see the open hatch of the exploration pod a few yards in front of them.

  “Gabriel!” she shouted, but no one but a few of the reporters and crew members turned to look at her. The sounds of the ocean and the operating rig easily drowned out everything. Everything but the expression on his face.

  Serafia knew the instant that he realized where they were going. He stiffened, his jaw tightening. His hands curled into fists at his side. Everyone around him continued to talk and laugh, but he wasn’t participating in the discussion. He was loosening his tie, looking around for another option to escape, short of leaping into the ocean and swimming back to the mainland.

  Patrick Rowling and the prime minister were the first to crawl in
side the exploration pod. Gabriel stood there at the entrance for several moments, looking into the small space. He was white as a sheet and he gripped the railing with white-knuckled intensity. She could tell the others were trying to encourage him, but he likely couldn’t hear anything they said if he was having a full-blown panic attack.

  Then he shook his head. Backing up, he nearly ran into someone else, then turned and pushed his way through the crowd back to the stairs. Serafia could barely make out the sounds of shouts and words of concern. Patrick climbed back out of the submarine, calling toward Gabriel, but he didn’t stop. He leaped up the stairs, finally colliding with Serafia as he reached the top.

  He looked at her, but his eyes were wild with panic. It seemed almost as if he didn’t really see her at all.

  “I’m so sorry, Gabriel. I forgot all about the submarine. I would’ve warned you if I remembered.”

  He looked at her, his expression hardening. There was venom in his gaze, a place where she’d only ever seen attraction and humor. She reached out for his arm, but he shoved it aside and took a step back.

  “It’s not a big deal,” she reassured him. “They can go on ahead without you. I’m sure you’re not the only person who doesn’t fancy the idea of a ride in that thing.”

  The look on his face made it clear that he didn’t agree. It was a big deal, at least to him. Without saying a word, he turned and took off down the metal-grated walkway toward the helipad.

  “Gabriel, stop! Wait!” she shouted as she pursued him, but he kept on going. She finally gave up just as she was overtaken by the press. They pushed her aside as they chased Gabriel, but before they could reach him, she spied the helicopter rising over the top of the rig.

  With nothing else she could do, Serafia stood and watched the helicopter disappear into the horizon. Once it was gone, all she could see, all she could think of, was the look of utter betrayal on his face. He blamed her for this. And maybe he should. She’d made a very big error today.

  “What happened?” The prime minister stopped beside her, his brow pinched in confusion. “Is the prince okay? He looked quite ill.”

  “I don’t know,” Serafia said. She wasn’t going to be the one to tell him, and any of the surrounding reporters, that Gabriel was claustrophobic. That would make it seem as if she was deliberately trying to undermine him. He should’ve been the one to say it. All it would’ve taken was a polite pass and he could’ve avoided it. Instead, he’d run like he’d been ambushed.

  A sinking feeling settled into Serafia’s stomach at the thought. Was that what Gabriel believed she was doing? This was just one oversight, but when added to the string of other problems they’d had over the last week, did it add up to the appearance of sabotage? He couldn’t possibly believe she’d do that to him. He hadn’t given that newspaper article a second thought.

  Or had he?

  Serafia feared he’d begun to suspect her. That look had said everything. Serafia had ruined it. She hadn’t meant to, but she’d ruined her relationship with Gabriel before it ever started.

  * * *

  Even though Gabriel had his driver take him back to Playa del Onda right away, he was discouraged to find Hector already waiting for him there. Judging by his press secretary’s dour expression, the news of the incident on the oil rig had beaten Gabriel home. He just wanted to take off his tie, pour a glass of scotch and relax, but Hector was the hitch in that plan.

  “Where’s Serafia?” he asked as Gabriel blew past him.

  “I don’t know. I left her at the oil platform.”

  Hector made a thoughtful noise and followed him into the den. Gabriel poured a drink and ripped off his tie before collapsing onto the couch. “Why?”

  “Well, I wanted to speak to you privately about those rumors. I’m concerned that the Espinas may be trying to undermine your coronation.”

  Gabriel was tired of hearing about this. “We’ve discussed this already.”

  “Yes, but that was before the prime minister called and briefed me about what happened today. He was concerned about you. He’d heard about the incident at the winery, as well.”

  Great. Now they were talking about him and his issues behind his back. “I don’t do well in small spaces,” Gabriel explained. “When I start having a panic attack, I have a very aggressive flight response. I overreact, I’m aware of that, but in the moment, I just have to get away from the situation. All the pressure I’m under to be poised and perfect every moment is just making it that much worse because I try to fight my way through it and it doesn’t work. Then I feel like a fool.”

  Hector listened carefully. “I’ll make certain we don’t have these issues in the future. In exchange, I ask that you speak up when you’re uncomfortable so we don’t make a bigger scene out of it. Does Serafia know about your claustrophobia?”

  “Yes.” She didn’t know until after the winery incident, but she knew today.

  “I see. Your Majesty, my concern is about why these situations keep popping up. Rivera said he asked Patrick Rowling about the submarine and said that it had been Serafia’s idea. I understand that you two are...whatever you are. But you really need to put your feelings for her aside and consider the possibility that all these unfortunate incidents are actually carefully orchestrated by the Espina family.”

  Gabriel dropped his face into his hand. He’d had a horrible day and he didn’t really want to face this right now. “I’ll take care of it,” he said.

  “Your Majesty, I—”

  “I said, I’ll take care of it!” Gabriel shouted. Suddenly his overwhelming apprehension had morphed into anger. He knew he shouldn’t direct it at Hector, but he didn’t care. He would kill the messenger because he didn’t know what else to do.

  “Very good, Your Grace. Thank you for your time.” Hector gave a curt bow and left the room.

  Gabriel watched Hector leave, the questions and anxiety spinning in his mind. Unable to sit still, he headed out to the veranda to await Serafia’s return to the compound. The longer he waited, the more his blood began to heat in his veins. He had been upset at the oil platform, but after his discussion with Hector, every minute that ticked by tipped his emotions over into pure anger.

  If he was right, this was the ultimate betrayal. Serafia would’ve known exactly what she was doing. She knew he couldn’t stand small, confined spaces. How could she schedule him for what amounted to a miniature submarine ride under an oil platform? Even people who hadn’t been through the kind of experience he’d had would balk at that. And yet, he felt this pressure as the future king to do it. He had to be strong; he couldn’t show weakness. His father expected it. His country expected it. And all it did was backfire on him and make him look like more of a coward when he fled.

  The situation had snuck up on him. They were walking around the lower level and the next thing he knew, he was confronted with his personal nightmare. As he’d looked down into the small round hatch at the metal ladder that would take him into a space too cramped for more than four full-grown men, he felt himself launch into a full-blown panic attack.

  This wasn’t like the incident at the vineyard. There, the room was dark and underground, but he could escape any time he chose, and did. The minute Gabriel climbed down that ladder, and the hatch was sealed, he would be trapped. His lungs had seized up as if a vise was crushing his rib cage. His heart had been racing so quickly he could barely tell the rhythm of one beat from the next. He’d been sweating, wheezing and damn near on the verge of crying while Patrick Rowling and the prime minister tried to coax him on board.

  No way. He didn’t care if he offended the richest man in Alma. He wasn’t about to have that image on him on television, blasted around the internet and on the front page of every paper. New King of Alma Cries Like a Baby When Forced Into a Submarine! They might as well send a stamped invitation for the Tantaberra family to come back and take over again. It was better to leave before it got worse.

  It was bad enough everyone had witn
essed his behavior. The Rowlings, the press and even the prime minister were all standing by as he’d completely flipped out, shoved people aside to escape and run across the platform to the helicopter pad as if he were on fire. It must have been a sight to see...his guards chasing after him, people shouting at him to come back, the press recording every moment of it... The Runaway King. Now, there was a nickname for his upcoming illustrious reign.

  He hadn’t registered much in the moment. Gabriel had only been motivated by a driving need to get away from that submarine, off the platform and onto dry land with sunshine on his face as soon as possible. But he could hear Serafia as she’d tried to comfort him. He’d registered the panic and worry on her face as she rushed toward him, but he wasn’t slowing down for her or anyone else. Besides, it had been too late. The damage was already done.

  Of course, that might have been part of her plan, right? The article had insinuated that the Espina family was determined to gain the throne back one way or another. If not through seduction, perhaps through scandal and humiliation. Serafia had been throwing grenades at him since he arrived. The watch, the debacle at the airport, the vineyard and now the oil platform... Even the supposedly successful party at Rowling’s house had proven controversial when he snubbed the Gomez girl at Serafia’s suggestion.

  He’d paid her to help this week go smoothly, to prepare him for any eventuality as king, and it had started to seem more as if she was deliberately setting him up to fail.

  He heard the sound of his bedroom door open. After taking a large sip of his scotch, he set the mostly empty glass down. The amber liquid burned in his stomach, just as his anger shot hot through his veins.

  Finally Serafia stepped through the open doorway, looking as worn and ragged as if she’d jogged all the way back from the oil platform. Her shirt was untucked and wrinkled. There was a run in her stocking, and her heels were scuffed. Her hair had been up in a bun, but now it was half up, half down in a silky black mess. She was flushed, with bloodshot eyes and dried tear tracks down her cheeks. It made him wonder how long it had taken her to put together this look and assume the role of the innocent in all this. Maybe that was why it took forever for her to get here.

 

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