by Holly Rayner
He holds me tight. “I know,” he says, rubbing gentle circles into my back. “I know, baby.”
I take a few more shaky breaths.
He continues speaking, in a soft, soothing tone. “I know how worried you’ve been. I know this is hard for you. I have an idea.”
He pulls back and holds me by the shoulders as he peers into my eyes. “Why don’t we go out? It’s a beautiful day out there. Maybe getting some fresh air would help to take your mind off of things for a while. What do you think?”
The blue sky stretches out behind him. His blue eyes beg me to be happy.
I can try.
“I think that sounds good,” I say. I take one more jagged breath, and then release a calming exhale. “Yes. A distraction will be just the thing. Let’s do it.”
An hour later, we reach one of my favorite parks in the city. It feels good to walk down a winding path with tall budding trees on either side of us. I can smell the grass, freshly cut and still drying off from the rain that fell last night. Birds sing in the trees, Luca’s hand is in mind, and a soft breeze plays through my hair.
“You’re right,” I say, giving Luca’s hand a squeeze. “This is just what I needed.”
“A change of scenery can be so helpful,” he says. “And you really can’t beat being out in nature.”
“Mm-hm,” I say as I take in the sight of bright daffodils, planted in a thick stand. Beyond the flowers, kids play on a small playground. Parents sit on the sidelines, chatting happily as the kids chase each other, swing, and zip down a spiral slide.
Luca and I watch the kids for a minute before he speaks again. “I always loved going out into the woods when I was a child,” he says. “One of the groundskeepers built a treehouse for me, and I could play for hours out there all by myself. Sometimes I could rope Gregor into coming with me, but he didn’t have quite the same imagination that I did.”
Luca laughs as he goes on. “I’d make up some elaborate game about a pirate ship, magical creatures and sea monsters trying to get into the treehouse, and Gregor would look at me like I was crazy. He mostly just wanted to hunt squirrels. He carried a slingshot with him, and he’d shoot the little critters while they were sitting on tree branches. Sometimes he hit them, too.”
“That’s awful!” I say.
“I didn’t like it either,” Luca says.
“It sounds like you and Gregor are very different,” I say as we turn away from the playground and continue ambling down the dirt path.
“Extremely different,” Luca says. “Gregor loved hunting, and I would get upset when anyone so much as hurt a bee that flew inside.” Luca laughs. “I was the sensitive one. I think that’s why, when my parents died, I took it the hardest. Gregor and Willem just naturally had more armor around them. I never seemed to have that.”
We walk in silence for a few minutes, the gravel crunching beneath our feet. The sound of children playing mingles with the chirping of happy birds.
“Do you get along with them now?” I ask, turning to Luca. “Your brothers, I mean.”
Luca considers the question. “I suppose you could say that. At least, we’re not actively fighting anymore, and that feels like a success to me.”
“So it was bad, for a little while,” I surmise.
Luca nods. “We were only fifteen when my parents died, but the three of us handled it so differently. Willem—”
“He’s the oldest, right?” I interject.
“Right,” Luca says. “By two minutes. He was always competitive, and very driven. When our parents passed away, he seemed to block out all of the pain he felt. He buried himself in school and was massively successful with the debate team. Within a few years, he was accepted at the country’s most prestigious colleges, and had his whole career in politics stretched out before him.”
“But he must still feel the pain,” I say. “It’s impossible to bury grief.”
“I think so, too,” Luca says. He shrugs. “I’ve tried to talk to Willem about it, but he doesn’t like to talk about emotions. I was always the black sheep of the family, in that way. I couldn’t hide how I felt about things like Willem and Gregor could.”
“How did Gregor handle the accident?” I ask.
We turn right and begin walking up a set of stairs that are made out of smooth stones, inlaid in the dirt path.
Luca sighs. “When we lost our parents, he became obsessed with military strategy. It was as though he was channeling his confusion and anger into learning about warfare. Now he holds a high rank in our country’s military.”
“So you’re the only one who really processed your feelings,” I say.
“I think so,” Luca says. “It wasn’t pretty, but at least I went through it and came out the other side in one piece.” He looks down at me and grins. “Enough about me. Do you hear that?”
I pause and listen. The sound of upbeat swing music now mingles with the other sounds of the park.
“Sounds like a concert,” I say.
Luca pulls at my hand. “Let’s go find it.”
I giggle as we reach a split in the path. Both of us tilt our heads, trying to decipher which direction the music is coming from. I sense that the band is somewhere to our right, so I tug at Luca’s hand, pulling him down the path to the right.
We continue our treasure hunt until our efforts pay off. In a grassy clearing, a swing band has set up and is playing while couples and kids dance in the grass. Some of the women are barefoot. The sun is hotter now that it’s almost noon, and I feel an urge to feel the cool grass under my feet, too.
I feel giddy with excitement as I kick off my shoes.
Luca follows suit, and soon we’re jogging hand in hand out to the grassy dance floor, just as the song begins to pick up speed.
Soon, I’m lost in the music. Luca dances next to me, twirling me around as I savor the feel of the cool grass between my toes.
I can’t stop smiling. Luca moves his hand to my waist and holds me closer as our bodies move in tandem to the music. He’s so easy to dance with. He has no inhibitions. No reservations. He’s happy to be himself, which I find incredibly attractive. He moves freely, encouraging me to do the same as we whirl around the grassy area.
When the song ends, I collapse into his arms, laughing.
He’s laughing, too, and catching his breath at the same time.
“Whew!” he cries. “I haven’t danced to swing music in years!”
“Me either,” I say, panting.
“I haven’t felt this happy in years,” Luca says. “Thank you.”
“We found this band together,” I say. “If we’d gone left, around the pond like I wanted to, we would never have arrived here.”
Luca laughs. “No, I mean, thank you for all of this, Phoebe. You’re reminding me what it’s like to feel alive. I feel like I’m a kid again, filled with wonder about the world… It’s like I’m seeing colors that have been hidden from me for so long.”
“I know what you mean,” I say as he scoops me in closer. “Everything seems brighter. Even the sounds are enhanced, somehow.”
“It’s like magic,” Luca says, before bending down and placing his lips on mine.
I drink him in, wrapping my arms around his neck. He lifts me up slightly as we kiss, until I no longer feel my feet on the ground. I move my fingers up the nape of his neck, into his hair, and we kiss just like we danced—free from inhibitions or reservation.
I am breathless when we part, and my heart is hammering in my chest.
How can I be worried about the future, when the present moment is so all-consuming?
I lean into Luca, letting him hold me up with his body. When he closes the distance between us again, I don’t resist.
Chapter 18
Luca
“In just a few more months, the baby will be able to hear music!” Phoebe says happily as she sets the book down on her stomach. She’s stretched out on the couch with her feet up on my lap. It’s the day after our swing dan
ce in the park and we’ve been enjoying a lazy Sunday morning, taking turns reading form some of the books that I picked up earlier in the week.
I rub her feet as I say, “I wonder if we should play some classical for him… introduce him to some of the great composers.”
“Or swing music!” Phoebe says happily. “Maybe the band that was playing in the park has an album out. Too bad we didn’t get their name.”
She grins and picks up her book again. “Let’s see what else happens during week eighteen. Oh! It says I’m going to have more energy around then. That’s good. I—”
She’s interrupted by the sound of her phone beeping. At the same time, the text message notification sounds on my own device.
I reach for my phone, and Phoebe’s feet slide off my lap as she picks up her own. I’m about to open my messages when I hear Phoebe gasp. I look away from my phone and focus on her.
She swings her legs off the couch and sits up as she says, “Oh, Luca! Look at this.”
She holds her phone out to me. I lean over so I can see the screen.
On it, I see an image of Phoebe and me dancing barefoot in the grass. In the photo, the skirt of Phoebe’s dress is bunched up high on her thighs, and her hair swirls wildly around her. Her eyes are closed and she is smiling. My jeans are rolled up at the ankles, and one arm is out to the side, while the other is wrapped around her waist.
Below the image, I see the headline: “Bad Boy Prince Luca—At It Again!”
I look away from Phoebe’s phone with a sinking feeling in my gut. I think I know what the messages on my own phone are going to be.
Confirming my fears, I unlock my phone to see five urgent text messages from my family’s PR team. A few more land in my inbox as I watch: two from Willem, one from Gregor, and one from our family lawyer.
“Looks like we made the news,” Phoebe says as she swipes her phone screen. “Oh, boy. Not just one story, Luca. There are lots of them.”
Swearing under my breath, I reach up and rake my hand through my hair, trying to figure out what to do next. I open the most recent message from Willem. “Call me,” it says.
“There are so many photos of us dancing,” Phoebe says. “I don’t understand—what’s so exciting about two people enjoying music together?”
I have a feeling I know.
I open one of the articles and begin to read aloud. “Prince Luca von Kartmeier is back to his old ways, and this time he’s partying in the USA. Seen here at Mortimer City Park in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, with his unrepentant outlaw lover, Phoebe Miller. Miller, an American charged with stealing vast sums from her former employer’s clients, seems to be just the type of criminal personality that Luca is so fond of spending time with.”
I stop reading and look up at Phoebe. She’s frowning.
“They’re so harsh!” she says. “They know nothing about me, yet they’re making me come across as a criminal party animal.”
“These media outlets are all about sensationalist stories,” I say, anger rising up in my throat and chest. “They’ll do anything to stir up some drama.”
“At least I don’t see anything about my pregnancy,” Phoebe notes. “I’m sure they’d have a field day with that one. I can see the headlines now. Maybe we should be thankful that they don’t know.”
I lick my lips and then place my phone down on the coffee table. I push my hand through my hair again as I stand.
I pace the length of the window. “I can’t believe that anyone at that park recognized me,” I say angrily. “I thought we were safe here, far away from my country and the paparazzi hounds that love to follow me around there. I thought it was different here.”
I turn on my heel and pace back toward the couch. When Phoebe says nothing, I continue. “I guess I can’t get away from it. There will always be someone out there who wants to make a buck off of intruding on my personal life. I’ve been so careful to lay low…”
I think back to the messages on my phone from my brothers. I’m going to have to call them and explain myself, before they get the wrong idea.
Before I can pick up my phone and excuse myself to Phoebe, however, my phone buzzes. It’s Willem calling.
“I’d better take this,” I say, before picking up. I take the spiral staircase up to the second floor of the penthouse suite and slip into one of the bedrooms as my brother greets me.
“Where are you?” he asks as I close the bedroom door behind me.
“In the States,” I say. I take a seat on the edge of the bed and place my head in my hand. “I’m sorry. I should have told you I was traveling. You saw the news, I’m guessing?”
“How could I not?” Willem asks. He sounds furious. “Photos of you are everywhere. Luca, I thought we were past this. I thought you’d straightened your life out. Now I see you’re off in the States with some girl who might be going to jail?”
“Phoebe isn’t just ‘some girl’!” I say, getting to my feet. I hear the defensiveness in my tone. “Willem, it’s not what it looks like. Let me explain.”
“You’d better,” Willem says. “I’ve had enough of trying to protect my reputation from your bad behavior.”
“Just listen to me,” I say. “First of all, Phoebe isn’t a criminal. She was accused of stealing funds from some investors, but she’s been framed. She’s innocent.”
“How do you know that?” Willem presses. “She could be lying to you. She could be using you, Luca. I’ve never heard you speak of this woman before. How long have you known her?”
“We met in March,” I say. “I traveled here to see her.”
“Great,” Willem says sarcastically. “You’ve known her for all of a month and a half. Luca, you know nothing about her. You may be naive enough to fall for her lies, but I won’t let some gold digger drag my name through the mud without—”
“Willem!” I interject. “I’m not going to listen to you speak about Phoebe like this. I haven’t known her for long—that’s true. But I’d trust her with my life. I know her, and more than that, I love her.”
As I speak, my own words shock me.
At the same time, I know they’re true. I love Phoebe. I’ve loved her since the moment I first saw her. I’m never going to stop loving her.
My confession has stopped my brother’s tirade, at least. I take advantage of his silence by continuing. “We’re having a child together,” I say.
Willem remains silent. I can hear him seething through the phone. Willem has never approved of my emotional reactions to things. He has always told me that I need to think more and feel less.
I don’t care what he says. In this moment, I know that I love Phoebe and that is all that matters to me.
Eventually, my brother speaks. “Don’t be naive, Luca,” he says. “For once, just be smart and do the responsible thing. Don’t tarnish the von Kartmeier name like this.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” I tell him. “You might be two minutes older than me, Willem, but you’re no wiser than I am. I am being smart. I am doing the responsible thing—and that’s staying here in the States for the time being, with Phoebe. She needs me.”
My brother promises that our family lawyer, as well as the PR team, will be in touch shortly. I assure him that nothing anyone says will make me change my mind. When we hang up, I sit on the edge of the bed for a minute, just trying to clear my mind.
My brother’s priorities couldn’t be more different from mine. As a head of state, his reputation is the most important thing in the world. I’m not like him. Right now, the most important being in the world to me is sitting just downstairs, waiting for my return.
I get up and walk to the door. As I descend down the spiral staircase, I see that Phoebe is standing in front of the windows.
In the streets below, a throng of press vans have gathered. I can see a crowd of photographers, no doubt snapping pictures of the hotel where myself and my “outlaw lover” are holed up.
I take a position behind Phoeb
e and rub her shoulders as I say, “I’m sorry. This is the last thing you need right now.”
“It’s not your fault,” she says, turning so that she can face me. “It’s mine. I thought about what you said—about how you felt it was safe for you here… how you assumed the press wouldn’t recognize you. I’m sure Derek led them to me, and they discovered your identity in the process. He’s always trying to generate media interest in himself and his firm, and I’ve told you how ruthless he can be.”
“We’ll get through this,” I promise as I wrap her in a hug.
She allows me to hold her for a moment. Her cheek rests on my chest. There’s something else on her mind—I can tell by the way she’s breathing. After just a moment, she pulls away from me.
“It’s surprising how thin the walls in this suite are,” she says. “For a luxury hotel, you’d think they’d be a bit more soundproof.”
She holds my gaze and searches my eyes, in that way she does. It makes me feel like she’s looking into my soul.
“I couldn’t help but overhear you talking on the phone, Luca,” she says. “And I love you, too.”
A tingling sensation fills my chest. This is what it’s like to feel loved.
I feel happiness and warmth spread through my body, filling me from my feet to the top of my head. Phoebe is looking at me with so much love. Just beyond her, the windows open up to views of the media circus below. It hardly matters. What matters is that there’s a gorgeous woman right in front of me, telling me that she loves me.
Whatever may happen with the press, my family, and her legal situation, I know one thing: we’ll get through it together.
Chapter 19
Phoebe
“What do you think?” I ask as Luca returns to the penthouse sitting area. He’s just ventured out to the hotel’s lobby.
He shakes his head. “They’re everywhere,” he says. “The elevator doors opened, and I took one look into the lobby and immediately hit the up button again. I think a photographer caught a picture of me standing in the elevator. There were at least a dozen reporters in the lobby area, and I could see more out on the sidewalk.”