“Let me carry Hope inside,” he said, and before Felicity could protest, he’d gone around to the other side of the vehicle and reached in to unbuckle her. Felicity hovered nearby as he lifted her carefully out of the seat. The toddler’s head lolled forward, and he pressed her cheek to his shoulder.
She was burning up.
“She’s hot,” he said, marveling at the wave of worry that washed over his skin. “It feels like a fever.”
Felicity had stepped away for a moment to gather the diaper bag. “Oh no,” she said. “I thought she felt a little warm when we got off the plane, but—”
At that moment, Hope lifted her head from Rafael’s shoulder, looked at him with glassy eyes, then threw up all over the front of his shirt.
He froze.
Rafael had two nieces, thanks to his brother Armin, but the girls had been adopted into the royal family when they were six. And his other brother, Artur, was expecting a baby with his new wife, but the child hadn’t been born yet. Nothing like this had ever happened to him before. Not that he was expected to deal with, anyway. For one long moment, his mind drew a complete blank.
And then he sprang into action, walking quickly into the entrance of the castle. There was one small tick against the pavement, followed by another—and then Felicity hustled up next to him sans her high heels.
“Oh, poor baby,” she cooed, reaching up to smooth Hope’s hair. “And poor you—”
He led them down the hall and into the first door on the right, which was the entrance to his quarters. Past the entrance was a large living room and he took Hope over to the sofa, laying her down against a pillow. Some of his staff had come in behind them, and as Felicity knelt down next to Hope, one of them went for a thermometer. It took them less than two minutes to determine that yes, she did indeed have a fever—and a fairly high one.
Rafael went to change his shirt, coming back in clean clothes to find Felicity still fretting by the side of the couch. Hope rested against the pillow, looking quite flushed. “Maybe some Tylenol,” Felicity said, and someone jumped to get it for her. “But in the meantime…” A frown crossed her face.
“What is it? Do we need to call in a doctor?” He still felt at a loss.
“I don’t think so, but Joy can’t be around Hope.” Felicity glanced up at him, her eyes wide. “Or around us, either, if we’re going to be caring for Hope and exposed to her germs. Joy’s immune system was compromised after a surgery she had last year. I’m worried about containing the sickness.” She looked around as if she were going to find her own rooms right there in the living room. “Where should we go? Where are we going to sleep?”
“Don’t worry,” Rafael said. “I’ll talk to the nurse. She can get Joy settled in her own suite. We’ll stay here in mine.”
Felicity blinked at him. “Here?”
“Yes. If you’re worried about spreading the infection, then this is the best option. The nanny can step in once Hope is recovered.” He’d offered Felicity an entire staff to care for her sister and Hope, and though she’d agreed to a more robust team to help her sister, she insisted on caring for Hope with the help of a single nanny.
“All right,” said Felicity. “Do you have a…room for us?”
He laughed, keeping it quiet so as not to disturb Hope. “I have plenty of rooms. I can have my staff move in some nursery furniture within the next fifteen minutes.”
Felicity shook her head. “Hope won’t sleep in a crib when she’s sick like this. She’ll only sleep soundly when she’s held.” It was true—the little girl was already stirring on the sofa. Felicity’s head dropped forward for a moment. Rafael could tell she was exhausted. It had been a long flight, and she was in a new country.
“Go change,” he said to her. “Have a shower. I’ll hold Hope until you can get back.”
She hesitated. “Are you sure?”
He lifted Hope gently into his arms. “I’ve got this.” Hope curled into his shoulder, and Rafael sank into the sofa. “Go. We’ll be right here.”
Felicity waited another moment, but Hope’s breathing settled back into the even rhythm of sleep. “Okay,” she said. “It’ll be all right.”
The moment she left the room, he wasn’t so sure. Hope felt so small and precious in his arms. Rafael found himself hanging on every breath.
He was almost afraid he’d break her.
* * *
He didn’t know how long she was gone. It could have been a few minutes, or it could have been hours—all Rafael remembered was becoming aware of her footsteps padding back into the room, accompanied by a wave of the scent of shampoo. His staff kept all the bathrooms stocked with delicious-smelling soaps and shampoos, but none had ever smelled so good as this one did coming off Felicity’s still-damp hair.
She came and sat behind him as he shifted his weight, adjusting some of the pressure on his arms. He kept himself in excellent shape, but sitting here still beneath Hope’s sleeping self had made his arms ache in an entirely unfamiliar way.
Felicity gave him a wry smile. “Stiff arms?”
“Of course not,” he said, though he couldn’t help returning the smile.
“I can take her.”
He swallowed. “I’d rather you didn’t,” he said softly. He felt her quiet acceptance in the air between them.
“At least let me help you move her.” She stood up, and with expert hands, lifted Hope and set her down again into a different position, all without waking her up.
“Should we get her into clean clothes?”
Felicity looked ruefully down at the two of them. “I think she mostly missed her own outfit, but you’re right. She could stand to have a new pair of pajamas and a sponge bath.” Felicity had changed Hope into comfortable pajamas not long after takeoff. A matching outfit was one thing for the jetway, but it was another for a long plane ride.
It seemed like magic to Rafael, the way Felicity was so sure of herself when it came to Hope’s care. She went out of the room for another few minutes, coming back with warm washcloths and a fluffy towel. Somehow, she managed to undress Hope, bathe her with the cloths, dry her, and dress her in a fresh pair of footie pajamas without so much as making her open her eyes. Felicity had such gentle hands.
Rafael couldn’t remember if she’d always been that gentle. He knew she’d already had a kind nature when he’d known her before, but motherhood had forged her into someone stronger and softer than the Felicity he’d known.
“You’re good at this,” he murmured as she gathered up the washcloths and towel and handed them off to the last remaining staff member, who walked soundlessly away with the laundry. “I always thought you might be.”
“Oh, please.” Felicity laughed quietly, settling in next to him on the sofa. “You never thought about what I’d be like as a mother. We were preoccupied with…other things.”
“But you always cared.” He looked down into Hope’s slumbering face. “It didn’t surprise me that you went back to the States for your sister. It only surprised me that you chose to cut all ties before you left. I thought—” His throat tightened. “A part of me thought you’d bring her back here.”
Felicity was silent for a long moment. “Well, I did, eventually.”
“Yes.” He huffed a laugh. “Though these aren’t exactly the circumstances I imagined.”
“I don’t know,” said Felicity. “Sometimes I think our imaginations are overrated.”
“How do you mean?”
“Sometimes, I’ve wondered what it would be like to be famous. But after getting a taste of the rules and people always taking photographs…” She shook her head. “Now I know that my imagination was totally off base.”
“You haven’t even been here a full day,” joked Rafael. “Don’t discount it yet.”
Felicity let her head fall back against the back of the sofa. “It’s been the longest day of my life.” She sat up again, looking down at Hope. “But not all bad.”
“You two will be fine,” Raf
ael said. “Perhaps you’re not schooled in the ways of royalty, but I don’t know anything about caring for children. I’m bad at this.”
“I wouldn’t call it that.”
“What would you call it?” He looked into her sparkling eyes.
“Unpracticed,” she said, a playful smile on her lips. “Really, Rafael. I only gave you a few minutes of instruction and now you’re holding the baby like a pro.”
He frowned. “She’s sleeping. I don’t know what to do when things get tough.”
Felicity waved this off. “Tantrums come and go. You didn’t recoil or get angry when she threw up on you, so I’d say you handled the diciest moment like a real professional.”
Pride and affection looped themselves together in his chest and squeezed. Felicity leaned closer, reaching to brush a lock of blonde hair from Hope’s forehead. Then she leaned down and kissed the same spot.
Rafael couldn’t help himself. He leaned down and kissed Felicity’s forehead, too.
She sat up, surprise written on her face, and they stayed like that for a quiet, magic minute. He’d never felt so close to another person—to another pair of people—as he did right now, with Hope resting comfortably in his arms and Felicity only a breath away.
“Thank you,” he said gruffly.
Her eyebrows lifted. “For what?” A tentative little grin flitted around her mouth.
“I—”
Hope stirred in his arms, letting out a tired little whimper, and the moment was over.
Felicity reached for her daughter, and he reluctantly gave her up. “It’s probably time to get her into a real bed. Though I’m not quite sure where your guest rooms are…”
He stood up, his arms too empty. “I’ll take you right there. Would you prefer a queen-sized bed or a king?”
Felicity blinked. “You have guest rooms with a king-sized bed?”
“One or two,” he said.
She looked across at Hope, who had curled onto her shoulder and was snuffling her nose into her mother’s shirt. “Whichever one’s farthest from your room,” Felicity said. “I wouldn’t want Hope to—she might be up quite a bit tonight.”
“Your wish is my command.”
Rafael gave her the closest room, but as he went into his own massive bedroom, part of him wished he’d invited her there instead.
5
“I honestly think if you invested a bit more time in the sessions with Lydia, we might have some more…success.”
Felicity sat on the sofa in the spacious living area of the suite across from Rafael’s apartments. In the background, someone from the cleaning staff was tidying the room. Rafael could see that Felicity wanted to get up and lend a hand…but she held herself back. It was, he noted, one of the things that had sunk in from Felicity’s tutoring sessions with Lydia—that it wasn’t exactly seemly for royals to go crawling around after toys on the floor. He’d hired help to keep all of their private rooms clean—well, he’d rearranged the responsibilities of existing palace staff—but Felicity still insisted on doing much of it herself. He’d have to have Lydia talk to her about that at some point, too, but that was another battle for another day. At least she wasn’t shoveling things off the floor while holding a conversation with him.
He hadn’t expected to have to hire Lydia for the new members in the royal family for a number of years yet. His brothers' wives wouldn’t be under as much public scrutiny as the future queen, and Rafael hadn’t planned on having anyone step into that role so soon. Things had not exactly gone according to plan.
She picked up a small wicker basket, surveyed the toys scattered on the sofa, and glanced up at Rafael. “I don’t know if I have time for those kinds of sessions.”
He did his best to temper a growing irritation. It was not easy to be a member of the royal family—he of all people knew that. But from the moment Hope had recovered from her illness two weeks ago, things had started to go downhill.
He’d envisioned it as being a far smoother transition than it actually had been. He knew things had been challenging for her back in America when the news first broke, but enough time had passed now for other stories to make the front page. And besides, they were on his home turf, so at least half the audience to Felicity’s entrance into Stolvenian royalty should have been forgiving.
Things just kept. Going. Wrong.
Rafael had started things slowly—appearances for photo ops, walks with Hope in a stroller—and things had been dicey even then. Felicity couldn’t seem to concentrate on how to deal with the press. Her shoulders tightened before the questions even began. He tried his best to include her in lower-stakes events, but that was a risky game, too. There were no low-stakes events with the referendum approaching. And Felicity didn’t seem to understand the rules they were playing by.
He checked his watch. “Don’t you have a session in fifteen minutes?” Lydia was a regal woman in her sixties who gave every impression of being royal without actually being a member of the ruling family. She knew all the ins and outs of the etiquette and bearing that family members needed to observe, and she’d been teaching them since Rafael was a child.
Felicity gave a little sigh. “There’s so much to do. I’m always bouncing between checking up on Joy and getting Hope ready for the next…appearance.” She sorted the toys with renewed fervor. “Hope will be awake from her nap any moment, and—”
“And there are plenty of caretakers on staff. Specifically, one who was hired to tend to her needs while you took care of your royal duties.” He saw the look she flashed up at him. “You do have royal duties, Felicity. You’re the mother of my child, and you’re going to be my wife, so—”
“All right.” Felicity stood up, brushing her hands on the front of her skirt. “I’ll go to the session today. But I’m not sure it’ll fix anything. When I get in those situations, I still feel like a fish out of water.”
His heart twisted. “I know it must be hard, moving to a new country, and settling into all kinds of customs you’re not used to.” On instinct, he reached out and took her hand. “But it’ll be easier with practice. I promise. In fact—” The idea came to him in a burst of inspiration. “I’ll attend the session with you.”
Felicity didn’t say no, but she did manage to stall for a few more minutes by finding the nanny and giving her extra instructions about Hope’s post-nap routine. Still, she brightened as they stepped into the meeting room where Lydia waited.
“I brought a guest with me today,” she told the elegant, silver-haired woman brightly.
“Good afternoon, Felicity,” said Lydia. She was warm and welcoming, and her attitude was no exception—everyone seemed to like Felicity. That’s why it had been such a trying three weeks. It should have been just a little easier. “King Rafael will come in handy.” She inclined her head toward Rafael, a bit of protocol that struck him as both outdated and comforting at the same time.
“What do you have in mind?” Rafael noticed that in Lydia’s presence, Felicity kept her hands neatly folded in front of her. It was the perfect pose for a queen to use. So there was some progress being made, just not enough.
“We’ll be practicing our maneuvers,” Lydia said, gesturing to a rack of gowns set up next to a privacy screen. “It’s essential to understand how to move through various spaces with more challenging hems and trains.”
Rafael saw it then. The room had been set up as an obstacle course. Some tables were pressed close together, while others had objects perched dangerously close to the edge.
Felicity’s brow wrinkled as she took in Lydia’s meaning, but then she clapped her hands gamely. “Let’s do it.”
Lydia gave her the faintest frown. “A little loud, dear.”
“Right,” said Felicity, then made a hasty departure behind the privacy screen. “Lydia, what’s the worst crowd situation you’ve ever had to navigate?”
Lydia shook her head with a wry smile. “Without a doubt, it was one situation that involved King Rafael.” He was inst
antly on alert, but there was no possible way he would interrupt her. “Of course, he wasn’t the king, then.”
Felicity came out from behind the privacy screen wearing a stunning jewel-toned dress with an impossibly long train. She dragged it out behind her, then studied the layout of the room. “Should I—”
“Through the tables, dear, to Rafael. Then we can discuss how to maneuver the dress when standing with others. The challenge of the event was that it was a dance for the middle grades in Rafael’s private school.”
Rafael had to stifle a groan.
“I was there in a sort of chaperone capacity,” said Lydia, laughing a little at the memory. “Of course, I always dressed formally for events involving the royal family. I didn’t anticipate having to wade through so many preteen boys in my formalwear. They were—”
“Must we describe it?” cut in Rafael. He tried to be good-natured. He really did. But school had been difficult enough without being a prince. Part of him was impressed at how easily Felicity had been able to get Lydia to open up, but more of him wanted this trip down memory lane to stop.
“They were wild,” continued Lydia. “One of the young men was swinging his arms—” She imitated the movement, and Felicity laughed. “None of them cared a whit about the protocol, and I found myself having to step in.” By this point, Felicity wasn’t even pretending to move through the tables in the gown. She was standing still, her hands to her mouth, laughing at Rafael. “He—”
“Enough.” Rafael’s voice came out more sharply than he’d anticipated, and both women turned to him, eyes wide. He struggled to temper his embarrassment. With Lydia speaking about that time in his life, it was like he was right back there, and he hated it. He took in a deep breath and let it out as slowly as he could. “Let’s move on.”
She inclined her head gracefully. “Of course, King Rafael.” Guilt flared and died. He would, no doubt, receive a written note of apology from her within the day. Then he’d need to send back his own note to apologize for being so brusque.
European Billionaire Beaus: The Complete Series Page 24