The Prince's Convenient Proposal

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The Prince's Convenient Proposal Page 8

by Barbara Hannay


  ‘I’m sorry,’ Charlie said. ‘I’ve been visiting my mother In Saint-Tropez and I’ve left all those arrangements to Rafael.’

  * * *

  Somehow, she got through the interrogation without too many sticky moments. She wondered if Rafe had ensured that the guests were first-timers who hadn’t met her sister. Even so, the night was an ordeal. She was battling jet lag and she was almost dropping with exhaustion. This ‘princess’ gig was so much harder than it looked from the outside.

  She was sure Rafe must be tired, too, but after the guests left he still came to her room, as he’d warned her he must, for his expected ‘nightly visit’.

  ‘Thank heavens that’s over,’ he said, taking off his coat and carelessly draping it on the end of a sofa, then flopping into the deep cushions and loosening his tie and the buttons at his throat.

  Charlie hadn’t meant to stare as he performed this small act, but everything about the man was so utterly eye-catching. She found herself mesmerised by the jutting of his jaw as he loosened his collar, by the sudden exposure of his tanned throat, and even the way he sat with his elbows hooked over the back of the sofa, his long legs sprawled casually.

  Everything about this Prince was super-attractive and manly.

  Rafe caught her watching him. She looked away quickly, cheeks flaming, and then tried to make herself comfortable as she sat on the opposite sofa. But it was hard to feel comfortable with a huge weight on her mind.

  There was only one thing for it, really—she had to get her worries off her chest quickly, before Rafe launched into another cosy fireside chat.

  Charlie sat forward with her back straight, her hands tightly clasped in her lap. ‘Rafe, I have a confession to make.’

  Unfortunately, he merely looked amused, which wasn’t at all helpful. ‘I thought something must be troubling you.’

  ‘Did it show tonight? I’m sorry. Do you think your guests noticed?’

  ‘No, Charlie, relax.’ He gave a smiling, somewhat indulgent shake of his head. ‘It’s just that I’ve learned to read the signs. There’s a certain way you hold your mouth when you’re distracted or worried, but as far as anyone else is concerned you were perfect tonight. You look very lovely, by the way.’

  ‘Yes, you told me.’ She refused to take his flattery seriously. ‘It’s the dress, of course.’

  This brought another slow, knowing smile tilting the corners of his sexy mouth. ‘Of course. We’ll blame the dress. Now, what’s your problem?’

  Charlie’s problem was the same problem that had dogged her all her life. ‘Money.’

  ‘Money?’ Rafe looked understandably puzzled. ‘So what’s the problem exactly? You have too little or too much money?’

  She couldn’t imagine ever being worried about having too much money. ‘Too little, of course. I’m sorry, I—’

  A crease furrowed between Rafe’s dark brows. ‘Dare I ask about the two hundred and fifty thousand dollars I gave you? I know it’s not really any of my business, but you haven’t spent that already, have you?’

  ‘Well, yes—I have—actually.’ Charlie almost added an apology as she made this confession, but stopped herself just in time. She would only make matters worse if she behaved as if she were guilty. ‘I’m only telling you this, because I went shopping today, and I tried to buy the clothes out of my own savings. But I didn’t have quite enough, not for the shoes and boots, as well as the coat and the dresses.’

  ‘But you weren’t expected to pay for the clothes out of your own purse. Surely Monique explained?’

  ‘I think she may have tried to. She said something about a St Romain account, but I wanted to pay for them, Rafe. You’ve already given me so much money.’

  ‘Which you’ve managed to spend in forty-eight hours. That’s no mean feat, Charlie.’

  She had no answer for this. At least Rafe didn’t ask her what she’d spent the money on. She still felt too tense about Isla to try to talk about that situation.

  No doubt he assumed she’d bought a yacht or an apartment, or even that she’d used his money to pay off old debts.

  A deafening silence followed her admission. In the midst of the awkwardness, she heard a ping from her phone, which she’d left on her bedside table.

  ‘Do you mind if I get that?’ she asked.

  ‘By all means.’ Rafe gave a stiff nod of his head and he spoke with excessive, almost chilling politeness.

  Charlie knew she’d disappointed him and she might have felt guilty if she hadn’t been so very anxious about her family. They must be in Boston by now. Her stomach was churning as she dashed to the phone.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  RAFE KNEW IT was foolish to feel disappointed in Charlie simply because she’d dispensed with his money so easily. She was perfectly entitled to do what she liked with the cheque he’d given her.

  She was fulfilling her obligations—she’d accompanied him to Montaigne and was acting as a stand-in for her sister, and that was all he’d asked of her. How she spent the money was none of his business.

  Besides, he was using Charlie to his own ends, so he was in no position to make moral judgements about the girl.

  To Rafe’s annoyance, these rationalisations didn’t help. He was disappointed. Unreasonably, illogically, stupidly disappointed.

  Unfortunately, in the same short couple of days that it had taken Charlie to spend his payment, he’d allowed her—an unknown girl from the bottom of the planet—to steal under his defences.

  Thinking back over the past forty-eight hours, Rafe couldn’t believe that he’d allowed Charlie to cast a spell over him. But, surely, that must be what had happened. Somehow, despite the lectures he’d given himself, he’d allowed himself to become intrigued by the possibility that he’d discovered a rare creature—a lovely, sexy girl with genuine heart, who wasn’t a grasping opportunist.

  Foolishly, he’d decided that Charlie was different from her sister Olivia and from the other frustratingly shrewd and calculating young women in his social circles.

  Rafe had been beguiled by Charlie’s air of apparent naivety, and, even though he’d known that she wouldn’t remain in his life beyond a few short weeks, he’d wanted to thoroughly enjoy the novelty of her company while he could.

  She’d been a refreshing experience.

  Or so he’d thought.

  He consoled himself that he wasn’t the only one who’d been hoodwinked. Even his good friend, Sheikh Faysal, had been taken by Charlie and had made remarks about her sincerity.

  What had Faysal said? ‘If you play your cards correctly, I’d say your Charlie could be quite an asset.’

  Ha! They’d both been conned.

  * * *

  Charlie was nervous as she picked up the phone. As she’d hoped, it was a message from her father.

  Arrived safely. Dr Yu has assessed Isla and it’s all systems go. Surgery scheduled for nine a.m. tomorrow EDT. Thank you, darling!! Love you loads, Dad & Skye xx

  It was such a relief to hear from him. Almost immediately, Charlie could feel her shoulders relax and her breathing ease. Isla was in the best possible place, under the care of the brilliant doctors in Boston.

  But her relief brought a welling of tears and she had to close her eyes to stop them from spilling. She drew in a deep breath, and then another.

  She wasn’t ready to share this news with Rafe. It was too private, too desperately scary to talk about. And it wasn’t over yet. Poor little Isla still faced surgery and that was probably the most dangerous time of all.

  Opening her eyes again, she caught a glimpse of Rafe’s cautious, frowning expression. She supposed he’d been watching her, but as she returned to the sofa he paid studious attention to his own phone, which he slipped back into his pocket as she sat down.

  For a tense momen
t, neither of them spoke. And then they both spoke together.

  ‘That was a message from my father,’ Charlie said.

  ‘I was just checking the weather forecast,’ said Rafe.

  They stopped, eyed each other awkwardly.

  ‘All’s well with my family,’ offered Charlie.

  ‘There’s more snow predicted,’ said Rafe.

  Charlie managed a tiny smile. ‘At least I have a warm coat now.’

  ‘Yes.’

  She swallowed, wondering what on earth they could talk about when the mood was so strained. Rafe’s smiles had vanished. There was no chance of regaining the warmth of last evening’s conversation.

  She touched the sapphires, lying cool and solid against her throat. ‘Do these need to be returned to a vault, or something?’

  Rafe nodded. ‘I’ll see to it.’

  He sat, watching her with a hard-to-read, brooding gaze as she removed the necklace and the earrings and placed them back in their velvet-covered box. This time, he made no attempt to help her. Without the jewellery, she felt strangely naked.

  ‘So, tomorrow you go to the children’s hospital,’ Rafe said.

  Charlie nodded. ‘Yes.’

  ‘I hope that’s not too much of an imposition.’

  ‘No, I think I’ll enjoy it.’ She would feel closer to her family. The connection was important.

  Another awkward silence fell and Rafe stared at her thoughtfully. ‘I don’t have any pressing appointments in the morning. I’ll accompany you.’

  This was a surprise—and not a pleasant one either. Under normal circumstances, Charlie wouldn’t have minded. She enjoyed Rafe’s company very much, probably too much. But now she was sure he was only going to the hospital to keep an eye on her, which meant he didn’t trust her, and that possibility disturbed her.

  ‘I’ll look forward to your company,’ she said quietly, knowing she had little choice.

  Rafe nodded, then stood. ‘The breakfast room is on the ground floor, in the south wing. I’ll see you there at eight tomorrow?’

  ‘Yes—sir.’ Charlie couldn’t help adding the cheeky ‘sir’. Rafe was being so stodgy and formal.

  He didn’t smile, but one dark eyebrow lifted and a flicker of something that might have been amusement showed briefly in his eyes. He left quickly, though, with a curt ‘bonne nuit’. No kisses on the cheek tonight.

  * * *

  Visiting a children’s hospital with a prince in tow was a very different experience from any previous hospital visit that Charlie had made.

  After a polite and rather formal exchange at breakfast, she and Rafe left the castle in a sleek black, chauffeur-driven car that sported the blue and gold flags of Montaigne fluttering from its bonnet. And as they passed through the snowy streets, people turned to stare, to point and to wave excitedly. Finally, when the car pulled up outside the hospital, there was a group of reporters hovering on the footpath.

  From the moment the chauffeur opened the door for Charlie, cameras were flashing and popping and she felt so flustered she almost stumbled and landed in the newly snow-ploughed gutter. The possibility of such an ignominious christening for her long red coat and knee high boots ensured that she navigated the footpath super carefully. Rafe’s hand at her elbow helped.

  A team of doctors, nurses and administrators from the hospital greeted them on the front steps. Charlie remembered to smile while Rafe introduced her as his fiancée, Olivia Belaire, and she did her level best to remember names as she shook everyone’s hand.

  Then the hospital team, plus Rafe and Charlie and the reporters, all processed inside.

  Charlie leaned in to speak in a whisper to Rafe. ‘Surely, all these flashing cameras will frighten the sick children?’

  ‘They won’t all be allowed into the wards,’ Rafe assured her.

  Indeed, as Charlie’s and Rafe’s coats were taken and they continued to the wards, only one television cameraman and one newspaper journalist were allowed to continue, along with the entourage of hospital staff. Charlie decided to ignore the other adults as best she could. The children were her focus and they were delightful.

  Over the next hour or so, she and Rafe met such a touching array of children. Some were very sick and confined to bed, while others were more mobile and were busy with various craft activities. They talked to a little boy in a wheelchair who was playing a game on a tablet and another boy presented Rafe with a colourful portrait of himself and Olivia, both wearing golden crowns.

  A little girl wearing a white crocheted cap to cover her bald head performed a beautiful curtsy for them.

  ‘Oh, how clever you are!’ Charlie told her, clapping madly. Prince Rafael, however, went one better. Responding with a deep bow, he took the little girl’s hand and gallantly kissed her fingers.

  The smile on the child’s face was almost as huge as the lump in Charlie’s throat and she knew this was a moment she would remember forever.

  Of course, the cameras were flashing and whirring throughout these exchanges, but by now Charlie, glad of her jaunty polka-dot dress, had learned to ignore them. They moved on to a room that looked like a kindergarten where children were sitting at tables and busy with crêpe paper and scissors and wire.

  ‘So what are you doing?’ Charlie asked, kneeling down to the children’s level.

  ‘We’re making roses,’ she was told by a little girl with a bandage over one eye. ‘And we made one for you!’

  ‘Oh!’

  Charlie’s gratitude and praise for the pink and purple concoction were heartfelt and, although she felt quite emotional at times, she managed to keep her smile in place. Until they reached the sick babies.

  Suddenly, her stomach was churning. At least there were no babies awaiting heart surgery in this ward, but she was given a warm, blanketed bundle to hold, and from the moment the little one was placed in her arms she was battling tears.

  Of course, she was thinking of Isla, and of course, the cameramen zoomed in close, capturing every emotion. She didn’t dare to catch Rafe’s eye.

  * * *

  They were driving back to the castle, after morning tea with a selection of hospital staff, before Rafe commented on the experience. ‘That seemed to go well,’ he said, although he didn’t look particularly happy.

  ‘It was amazing,’ Charlie declared firmly. ‘The children were so excited to see you, Rafe. That little girl with the curtsy was gorgeous. I hope she gets better. Her doctor said he was optimistic.’

  ‘That’s good,’ Rafe said warmly. ‘Everyone loved you—especially the children, but you were a hit with the staff as well.’

  Charlie couldn’t help feeling chuffed. ‘I guess I was channelling my inner princess.’

  Rafe’s response was an incomprehensible smile, and he looked more worried than pleased.

  What was wrong? Charlie wondered with a sigh. She felt a spurt of impatience. She’d done her level best this morning. He’d said she’d done well. What more did he want?

  ‘Why do you look so worried, Rafe? I thought you just told me that the visit went well. I thought you were happy.’

  ‘Of course the visit went well. You were perfect.’ He gave a slow shake of his head. ‘That’s the problem.’

  This made no sense at all. ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘You’ve set rather a high standard for Olivia to follow.’

  ‘Oh.’ Charlie hadn’t considered this possibility. ‘Are you suggesting that visiting a children’s hospital might not be her cup of tea?’

  ‘Exactly,’ Rafe said grimly.

  Charlie had no answer for this. She’d done what she’d been asked to do. She could do no more. ‘Do you think there’ll be a photo in the newspaper tomorrow?’

  Rafe nodded. ‘Almost certainly.’

  ‘I wonder if Ol
ivia will see it. Gosh, imagine how shocked she’ll be.’

  This brought another frown from Rafe. ‘At least, she might make contact then.’

  ‘And that’s a good thing, surely?’

  But his expression was still serious and thoughtful as he looked away out through the car’s window. A woman and a little girl out on the street saw him and waved excitedly, but he seemed too preoccupied to notice. He didn’t wave back.

  Charlie, feeling sorry for them, waved instead.

  * * *

  The car returned to the castle and Charlie expected that Rafe would leave her now. She had no other commitments for the day, but he would almost certainly be busy. She wasn’t looking forward to the next few hours of anxiously pacing the floor, trying to fill in time until she heard news from her father.

  In the castle’s enormous, white-marbled entrance, she hesitated, expecting Rafe to dismiss her.

  Instead, he stood, tall and wide shouldered, in his large, heavy wool overcoat, with his black leather gloves clasped in one hand, watching Charlie with unexpected vigilance, almost as if she were a puzzling, troublesome child.

  She was getting rather tired of trying to understand what this Prince really wanted of her. She was about to demand what his problem was when he spoke.

  ‘Charlie, can I ask a personal question?’ His manner was perfectly polite, but there was an intensity in his grey gaze that made her suddenly nervous.

  In an attempt to cover this, she shrugged, rather like a teenager put on the spot by an inquisitive parent. ‘I guess. What do you want to know?’

  ‘Would you be prepared to explain why I’ve seen you on the verge of tears on at least three separate occasions now?’

  Her cheeks flamed hotly. ‘Three times?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Rafe. ‘You’ve been upset twice on the phone when you were speaking to your father and then today at the hospital with that tiny baby in your arms.’

  ‘You’re—you’re very observant.’

  ‘Look, I don’t want to pry, Charlie,’ Rafe said more gently. ‘I’m fully aware that I dragged you away from your life in Sydney without really asking if it was convenient, but if something is causing you distress, perhaps I should know.’

 

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