He wanted to reach out and smooth a hand over her hair, but he resisted. “I have a plan,” he said quietly. “It will make everything easier and safer—for us and for Hope.”
She looked up at him like he was a life preserver and she was drowning. “What is that plan? Please, tell me.”
“You’ll all come with me to Stolvenia.”
“My sister—” Felicity started to say, but Rafael didn’t stop.
“Joy will come, too. I know how important she is to you. You would never need to worry about leaving her behind. I will get you the best of the best.” His throat tightened with an emotion he couldn’t name—a storm of emotions. “I will provide our daughter with a life fit for a princess. And also, I’ll provide Joy with the best in-home care she can ever hope to receive.”
“You would do that?” Felicity whispered.
“Yes.” He steeled himself for the final words. “All you need to do is play a role for me, and it’s a simple one. All you need to do is carry on with the charade that we’re in love—and about to be married.”
* * *
A proposal. That’s what it was, though Felicity could hardly wrap her mind around it. Rafael looked down at her, dark eyes serious and yet lit with determination. Nothing about this seemed quite real. He was truly tall, dark, and handsome—and a king, to boot. Felicity felt a little light-headed standing this close to him in her tiny kitchen. She could smell the rich, soapy scent of him in the air.
Felicity shook her head, trying to clear her mind. “Why can’t Hope and I stay where we are?” As soon as the words left her lips, she knew it was a futile question.
“The world knows now that Hope is my daughter,” Rafael said, with no hint of how ridiculous her question was. But it was obvious they couldn’t stay here. Not in this apartment. Maybe not in this city. “And, as the rightful heir to the throne, Hope should be raised in Stolvenia, where she can learn what it means to be queen.”
“What if she doesn’t want to be queen?” Felicity asked, feeling enormously out of her depth.
“Once she’s an adult, she can choose to remove herself from the line of succession,” Rafael said, his voice so smooth and soothing that it almost lulled the anxiety she felt. Almost. “But until she’s of the age where she could make that kind of decision, she needs to come to Stolvenia to…” He raised his hands in the air, as if he was at a loss for any other explanation. “Be an heir. It’s the safest, and smartest, decision. And you’ll need security, too—security you’ll have in the palace. You can’t hide forever. Not anymore.”
Felicity felt the blush fly to her cheeks. “Security for me? I’m no one.”
“Anyone I marry will no longer be a private citizen.”
Despite the fact that she felt like swooning, the marriage proposal brought her up short. “But…why? I know I’m saying that over and over, but why do we need to get married? We don’t even—I left, and—”
“Because I need to stabilize my country.” When Rafael spoke about Stolvenia, he seemed an inch taller, more solemn, more kingly. “The people threatening the monarchy—I don’t think they’re suited to take over leadership. I can’t allow them to throw the country into chaos, so I need the people to rally behind me as their king. And while the opposition meant for this to undermine my position, it’s backfired on them. People are fascinated by the story of our romance. If we give them a love story with a happily ever after, they’ll stand behind us. The referendum will fail. My throne—and Hope’s—will stay secure.”
It was strange, the combination of disappointment and relief Felicity felt. She’d half expected him to say the reason they should marry was because he had never stopped loving her, every single day since she left, and it was tearing him apart to be without her. But of course Rafael wouldn’t say that. Rafael was the king.
“Do you see why I need to keep this process moving, at least until the referendum is decided?” He raised a hand and ran it over his hair. “I promise, it’ll benefit us both.” He took a step back, eyes catching on the pile of bills in the corner of the counter. Felicity kept them all in the same place, telling herself that they couldn’t take over her thoughts if they were relegated to one corner of the apartment. “All your financial burdens would be erased.”
Hot shame flooded her face, and Felicity flinched back. “I’m doing just fine, you know. I don’t need a bailout from the country of Stolvenia. I don’t need a palace. Or you. I’m doing fine.”
“Not anymore,” Rafael said softly. In the pause after his words, she could hear the shouts of reporters outside. They were getting louder again. And what he’d said was true. How could she keep her family safe if they stayed here, now that the secret was out?
“No,” she admitted. “Not anymore.”
“You still look beautiful,” he said, his voice low. “But I can tell that you’re tired, Felicity. In Stolvenia, you wouldn’t have to work. Your whole world could revolve around Hope and Joy and whatever personal projects you choose to pursue. Would you…like that?” He seemed suddenly tentative. “Would that be enough for you?”
It sounded like a wonderful dream, but something that couldn’t be her reality. Still, the questions rose in her mind. “How far would we have to take it?” she asked. “Our fake relationship—how far would it extend into our…personal lives?”
“The courtship and marriage would be for the public only.” He sounded definitive. “Behind closed doors, there would be no expectation of romance. Once the referendum is over, we can live mostly separate lives. Of course, you would be entitled to all the same benefits and lifestyle. I would never displace you.”
She looked into his eyes then, and for all the steadiness in his voice, Felicity was sure he felt more than he was letting on.
After a moment, Rafael looked away.
In the living room, Hope giggled as Joy sang a nonsense song in her silliest voice.
Outside, the noise from the crowd of reporters rose. It sounded like more of them had shown up. No surprises there—Rafael wouldn’t have come in an inconspicuous vehicle.
Felicity looked back up into Rafael’s eyes. “I’ll do it.”
His eyebrows shot up. “You will?”
“I’ll do anything to get out of here.” Decision made, she released a heavy breath and stood up tall. “How soon can we leave?”
3
It was what she’d been afraid of all this time.
Rafael swept back into her life, and everything was upside down, turned inside out.
And yet…now that they were away from her apartment, it seemed like the only decision she could have made.
Rafael had rented them two large suites at the Des Lux hotel in downtown Des Moines, which had the added benefit of having no front lawns the reporters could gather on. It had been peaceful.
This morning was another story.
Rafael had woken her early, knocking gently on the door, and she’d popped up, going immediately to answer it.
“Good morning,” she whispered, instantly aware of her ratty pajamas. Rafael was already immaculately dressed and radiating the kind of energy a man gets from a good exercise session—or another kind of session, she thought, blushing. “I set an alarm for an hour from now. Isn’t that enough time to get to the airport?”
He’d given her an encouraging smile. “It would have been, yes. For a private citizen.”
It had turned out that there was a lot more to “going to the airport” as part of the royal entourage than simply getting into the car and driving to the terminal. The moment Felicity stepped out of the shower, she was met by two women—one to do her hair and makeup and one who’d dragged a rack of clothes into the room behind her. For Felicity, she’d brought a selection of skirt suits in pastel colors. Every suit had a coordinating outfit for Hope.
She felt like she’d stepped into a tornado and came out the other side a more polished version of herself, wearing a suit that was nicer than anything she’d ever been able to afford. Her hair
had been styled into a sleeker version of the bun she usually wore it in, with not a lock out of place, and her makeup was subtle but professional in a way that Felicity had never been able to pull off.
But there was still more to do. Traveling with Joy and Hope was an exercise in master planning.
Felicity swallowed a huff of frustration at the ongoing lecture of dos and don’ts. She’d walked onto a plane before. She’d even done it while wearing high heels before. And all the rules for boarding the plane were less important to her than making sure all of Joy’s medical equipment was packed and ready to go. Not to mention, God help them if Hope’s Mr. Bear, the toy she was most attached to, didn’t get a seat.
Rafael kept breezing in and out of the room, looking perfect and unflustered as Felicity checked over her own bags as well as the bags for Joy and Hope one more time. It was easier for her to do it, since Joy couldn’t heft all the bags onto her lap by herself. She was with Hope in the second suite. But Felicity was running out of time.
“Are you all caught up on the protocol?” Rafael said.
He had always been a man of protocol, even when his father and older brother had been alive and he’d had no expectation of inheriting the throne. He would always be that man. Felicity couldn’t let herself fall for him again, knowing that she’d always be second to the rules of royalty.
Again, she wondered what she was getting herself into. But this wasn’t for her. This was for her daughter. All of this was. Stolvenia was where her daughter needed to be, so that was where they’d go.
She turned to face him. How could he be so oblivious? “I’ve got it. But I could use a little help here.” Felicity motioned to the room around her.
Rafael looked a little surprised. “How can I help?”
She scooped up Hope’s diaper bag from the floor and tossed it to him. “Make sure everything we’ll need is inside—especially Hope’s bear. You can ask Joy if there’s anything else missing, but we need to have it packed before we leave.”
“All right,” he said slowly, and Felicity turned back to Joy’s bags. It was going to be a long day if Rafael struggled with a simple task like packing a diaper bag.
And oh, he did. He walked slowly from suite to suite, peppering Joy with questions and packing the bag with all the speed of a hundred-year-old tortoise.
An hour later, they were miraculously in the car. Rafael sat next to her, running through all the airport protocol again. But Felicity couldn’t focus. Hope was squirming in her car seat, fussing, obviously tired. It was a little too early for a nap, but…where was the bear?
“The bear,” she said, cutting Rafael off midsentence.
“What bear?”
“I need Hope’s bear, from her diaper bag.”
“Oh…” Rafael looked around, but there was no diaper bag in the car with them. “It’s packed with the other things in the back.”
Felicity took a deep breath and tried to put this in perspective. It was only going to be her first press appearance with Rafael. So what if her daughter had a complete meltdown because a grown man hadn’t been able to infer that the diaper bag should be in the seat with them?
“Can you climb in the back and get it out?”
Rafael laughed. “No. With the press following us? That wouldn’t be a good look.”
She had been right. It was going to be a very long life.
In the seat next to her, Hope started to cry.
* * *
Hope was winding up by the time the car pulled onto the tarmac, but at the last moment Rafael leaned over her and pointed out the window, his hand right at Hope’s eye level.
“Look, Hope,” he said, his voice easy and casual. “Cameras.”
“Camma,” said Hope, but her eyes followed his finger, and then her attention was out the window at the gaggle of photographers ten feet away from the car. They were sequestered behind a velvet rope with three security staff members patrolling the line, but they were already taking pictures.
Felicity’s heart pounded. Her frustration over the diaper bag had distracted her from any anxiety this far, but now—
She darted a hand up to her hair, but Rafael caught it in midair. “You look beautiful,” he said, and something inside her melted.
“Thank you,” she said stiffly, another wave of nervousness overtaking her. “Is it time to go?”
“Yes. They’ll open my door first, and I’ll go around and engage the press. You’ll begin walking to the plane with Hope. Remember, one wave. You don’t need to do any more than that.”
She’d been so irritated with the endless repetition of protocol, but now Felicity was grateful for it. She leaned over Hope and undid her buckle. “Come on, baby,” she said, putting a smile on her face. “We’re going to take a little walk to the airplane.” Rafael’s door opened and he climbed out. “There goes Rafael,” she said to her daughter. “He’s going to answer a few questions.”
The driver helped her climb out with Hope in her arms, then guided her around toward the carpet leading to the plane’s airstair.
Rafael was standing in front of the cameras, and as he turned his head, Felicity got a glimpse of his confident smile. One of the photographers caught sight of her behind him and called out her name, then all the cameras were flashing, people calling to her.
Felicity had to stifle the urge to run behind the car and hide. Instead, she smiled benevolently at Hope, who was pointing and babbling at the photographers. She could almost see how the photos would turn out, and all at once she understood the intention behind the rack of clothes and the hair and the makeup. This was how the royals did it, wasn’t it?
Another swell of flashes from the cameras, and Felicity lifted her head to see Joy rolling up the carpet, her chair guided by one of the security staff.
She looked gorgeous.
Felicity hadn’t been paying attention enough to know that the staff had also coordinated an outfit for Joy that was similar, but not identical, to Felicity’s. Her heart swelled with pride. The three of them—the two sisters and her daughter—would make a pretty picture. Felicity waited for Joy to catch up, then the two of them waved to the press together.
“Isn’t this incredible?” Joy said to her with a laugh. “Two girls from Iowa, getting on a plane with a king.”
“I never saw it coming,” said Felicity.
“Oh please,” teased Joy. “By the way, you’re forgetting protocol. You’re supposed to be going up the airstair already.”
She’d waited too long, and now Rafael was coming. He swept in, smiling broadly at them. “Let’s go, ladies,” he said, the slightest hint of impatience in his voice. He spread his arms as if to take them all in, a monarch and his family.
The photographers let out a cheer that rose to a wild note. They were loving this.
But Hope wasn’t.
The camera flashes were so bright and so unrelenting that they’d gone from entertaining Hope to scaring her. The little girl clung tightly to Felicity’s shoulders, and she could feel her daughter’s body tensing. Felicity turned and hustled toward the plane, trying to keep a smile on her face.
“Mama,” Hope cried. “Mama, Mama. Bear.”
She didn’t have the bear. One of the security detail was charged with getting the diaper bag onto the plane and into Felicity’s seat, but they had to get there.
“Bear!” Hope screamed in her ear.
She took the first step onto the airstair, and that’s when Hope lost it.
Felicity’s daughter let out a howl that carried over everything—the noise of the photographers, the noise of the plane, everything—and threw herself backward.
“Sweetie, we’re getting the bear,” she said, trying to be heard over Hope’s screams. “Honey—” It was futile, and now Hope was thrashing. She tore her headband from her head and threw it to the ground. Unbalanced in her high heels, Felicity teetered on the edge of the stair. Only Rafael’s grip on her arm saved her.
“You’ve got to fix this,” h
e gritted out into her ear. “You’ve got to get her onto the plane.” His tension filled the air around her, and she could understand why. The picture-perfect scene was falling apart.
“All right,” Felicity said. There was only one thing to do that would draw everyone’s eyes away from her daughter. So she turned on the stair and kissed Rafael.
Right there.
In front of everyone.
He let it go on for a long moment, then pulled back, his face a mix of irritation and desire. “Didn’t they tell you? We’re not allowed to kiss.”
This life—it might not be worth it after all. Maybe Rafael should feed her to the media and save himself.
4
It was far easier to exit the plane with a sleeping baby, Rafael discovered. It was past midnight when they landed, and under the cover of darkness, they swiftly came down the airstair and stepped right into the waiting SUVs. Unlike in the States, there was a line of five cars waiting for them—Rafael chose the third one at random. The caravan whisked them off through the capital and to the palace.
Despite the late hour, there was a small crowd gathered outside the drivers’ entrance.
“What are they doing here at this time of night?” Felicity asked, resting one hand on Hope’s little knee. The toddler was still asleep in her car seat.
“It’s members of the media. They’ll have been watching for us to return, but since there wasn’t any fanfare when we arrived, they’ll run a story tomorrow about how we secretly deplaned. There were protestors waiting on the ground at the airport. The motorcade timing went off without a hitch so they’ll be upset they didn’t get a chance to engage.”
They pulled up to one of the back entrances of the palace, one that had a direct corridor to his private residence. Rafael climbed out and stretched, Felicity following close behind. She rubbed at her eyes. This was a moment he could take advantage of.
European Billionaire Beaus: The Complete Series Page 23