Not after the surprise stunt at brunch.
She just wasn’t sure.
* * *
Rafael waited in the wings at the International Women’s Day gala event, letting the sound of the crowd wash over him. It was a rare moment of peace at an event like this. Usually, Rafael was the one at the forefront, but this evening Felicity had been the star of the show.
Since it was International Women’s Day and not International Kings’ Day, he’d stepped back, letting the women of the royal family lead. He’d known for a while that Artur’s wife, Amy, was at the top of her field when it came to PR and event planning. Today only confirmed it.
“Waiting for the speech?” Amy appeared at his elbow, wearing an elegant dress of navy blue. She was very pregnant but it didn’t seem to bother her in the slightest. He felt a flare of regret at that—he’d never seen Felicity when she was pregnant with Hope. He’d never had the chance to feel the baby kick in her belly, and some unsettled part of him thought he might never get that chance.
“Yes,” Rafael said. “I’ve heard it’s a very good speech. I told her I’d read it over if she wanted me to, but Felicity thought the PR department had it well in hand.”
Amy cocked her head to the side. “You’re sure you don’t want to read it before she goes on? I have a copy right here.” She made a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a cough. “I’d remind you that you’re the king and you have final approval over everything, but you already know that.”
He laughed. “I do know that. I’m confident the speech is a good one.” Rafael had a sense that he shouldn’t interfere very much in the event, and especially not in Felicity’s speech. He might be king, but that didn’t mean his interference would be welcomed by his soon-to-be queen. Especially since, on a personal level, something was off between the two of them.
She’d been distant ever since the brunch outing, and when they’d arrived back at the palace Felicity had thrown herself right back into the International Women’s Day activities. He’d hardly seen her the past three days, except for in clips in the news media, where she was praised to the skies for all she was doing. In a way, he was more impressed than anything. She’d bloomed right in front of his eyes.
There was a hush from the ballroom, and footsteps off to his left.
Amy stepped forward first. “Felicity,” she said, leaning in to brush an air kiss close to Felicity’s cheek. “You look gorgeous.”
“Oh, thank you.” Even in the dim light offstage, he could tell that Felicity was blushing. “Most of the credit goes to the makeup artist—Zia’s a genius.”
“You look lovely,” said Rafael. It was the truth—in a pale blue gown with a thin circlet of diamonds in her hair, she looked every inch the queen.
“Thank you,” said Felicity softly, smiling at him.
His gut went cold.
The smile hadn’t quite reached her eyes, and for an instant he’d felt like he was looking at his mother.
For most of his life, Rafael had thought of his mother as a true queen. She’d been fair and kind…in public. But this was the only kind of smile he’d ever seen on her face. It was a smile that lacked any actual joy.
He opened his mouth to ask Felicity what was wrong, but she’d already turned away, to Amy. “Are we good to go?”
“Yes,” said Amy. “I’ll step out and introduce you, and then you can give your remarks.” She reached out and rubbed Felicity’s shoulder. “You’ve done a really great job this week, I should say.”
“We’ve done a great job,” echoed Felicity, and then it was time for Amy to go out onstage.
Rafael didn’t dare disturb her as she waited to make her speech, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her, either. The moment before she stepped into the light, her face transformed into a brighter smile that tugged at his heart.
He still couldn’t tell if it was real.
The words of Felicity’s speech blurred into each other as he watched her there, glowing in the spotlight, his heart pounding and his head swirling with questions. She had made herself into the perfect queen, but at what cost? What cost?
The only thing that broke him out of his thoughts was the applause from the crowd.
Felicity stood behind the podium, smiling radiantly, and gave a little wave. She said something that didn’t quite make it to the microphone. She was good. Rafael’s chest filled with pride as he walked out to make his own remarks—a sentence or two, praising Felicity and the rest of the team. She stood tall next to him as he said the words, and then, still so proud, he leaned down to kiss Felicity’s cheek.
And Felicity stepped back, so smoothly it was astounding, and put her hands on his shoulders, smiling up at him.
Rafael had been king long enough to know that freezing in place wasn’t an option, but he very nearly did it anyway.
Felicity had always been the one to take his hand. She had always been the one to ignore the propriety rules. She’d always been the one to forget little pieces of protocol at the most inopportune moments.
And now she was the one stopping him from behaving inappropriately.
His heart in his throat, he stood up tall and waved at the crowd.
“That was a close one,” said Felicity, still wearing that same smile.
He knew he should be happy. He knew he should take pride in the fact that she was learning the ins and outs of the royal court.
But the fact that she’d brushed him off made him incredibly sad.
15
The next day, Rafael woke up early, like he always did. His body was used to the schedule, and the schedule kept him in tip-top shape.
Only today was different.
It was different because he’d arranged a morning off for himself and Felicity. She’d said she was exhausted the night before and gone to her bedroom alone. That, at least, made sense—the meetings and roundtables she’d been attending for International Women’s day had happened one after the other, with a bit of travel in between.
He went down to the palace gym, trying to shake off the unease he’d felt at the gala. It was down to stress, he told himself. Felicity had stepped up—way up. It wasn’t an easy thing to do.
But it was over now. He lifted weights, relishing in the rush of exercise. All that was over, and things could go back to normal…starting with a visit to Felicity this morning. He was determined to reconnect with her, even if it meant scheduling more time off.
He showered and dressed in comfortable clothes, taking his time. Rafael wasn’t going to ruin this by waking her up too early. That would be an amateur mistake.
Felicity was still sleeping when he crept into her room. It wasn’t too early, but it was early enough that Hope was still quiet in her crib and Sara hadn’t yet come by to start the day. He set his coffee on a low table by the door and crawled into the bed with Felicity.
She was gorgeous, even in her sleep. Felicity lay on her back, her golden hair spilling over the pillow and her camisole hiked up to display the curve of her breasts.
Yes. This was his Felicity, and this was the moment they were going to get back on track.
She stirred as he tugged the blankets down to reveal that she was wearing only a pair of panties along with the camisole. “Mmm,” she said, her voice husky with sleep. “Did I miss my alarm?”
“No alarm except this one,” he said in a low voice, pressing a kiss to her ribs, then another to her belly button. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties and pulled them down. Felicity lifted her hips to help him, and the smile that came to her face was one that he recognized. Finally.
She giggled as he pulled them off her ankles and tried to sit up.
“No, no.” He pressed her back down to the pillow. “This is going to be the most enjoyable alarm you’ve ever had. Keep your hands up by the headboard.”
“Okay,” she whispered, and he ran his hands down her waist, to her hips, then between her thighs, spreading her legs wide. He blew a breath over her sens
itive flesh, making her shiver…and then he couldn’t wait anymore.
She was simply too slick, too sweet, and he wanted his mouth between those folds. That’s where he put it, exploring every inch of her with the tip of his tongue until she was wriggling and writhing beneath him. Her hips danced so much that he had to pin them down to the bed, which only made her moan more.
Rafael licked her with long strokes until the very last of her words were gone, lost to her moans and noises, and then he did what she liked best. He moved his lips up to her clit and sucked, pulses of pressure and swirls of his tongue that built and built until she came hard into his mouth in a new burst of sweetness.
“Oh, stop—stop!” she gasped, and he pulled his face away, grinning. She was always so sensitive afterward. He reveled in knowing that fact about her almost as much as he reveled in her pink, satisfied face.
He sat up on the bed as Felicity stretched out, working the feeling back into her feet. “I’ve missed this,” he told her, in the quiet of the room.
“Me too,” said Felicity. “Though…maybe things were a little better when I was busier.”
“What do you mean?”
Felicity pressed her lips together. “It gave me something to do, and it made our time together more precious, in a way. Maybe…maybe we should keep up our schedules like that, so we never have a chance to…” Her voice dropped. “…get tired of each other.”
It almost seemed like a question. “I’m not sure about that. In fact, I think you were right.”
She opened her eyes and pushed herself up onto her elbow. “Right about what?”
“About taking breaks.” He looked into her eyes. “I’m ready for a break. A vacation, even.” It was true. He’d been ignoring it long enough. “A proper one, this time.”
Felicity laughed, shaking her head. “There is no break. You know that. The wedding—”
“The wedding is next week. This evening’s press conference is the last one before the ceremony. And then we can start planning for a break. The referendum results will be in on our wedding day, so…there won’t be anything left to debate, after that.”
At the mention of the press conference, Felicity’s face fell. She sat all the way up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. A robe hung over the chair next to the wall, and she tugged it over her shoulders, still not looking at Rafael. “Sometimes,” Felicity said softly, “I don’t even feel like it’s my wedding. I really haven’t been involved in any of the details. There have been packets here and there, but…”
She looked back over at him, and Rafael shrugged. “That’s just the way it’s done with a royal wedding. It’s for the public more than anything else.”
Felicity ran a hand through her hair. “I think I hear Hope,” she said. “Oh—and there’s Sara, too. I should get in the shower.”
The moment was broken, but Rafael didn’t know how or why, and he still wanted to repair it. He stood up next to her and kissed her cheek, then pulled her into his arms. “It’s just a few more photo ops,” he said. “Then we can plan our vacation.”
“Sure,” Felicity said, and as she headed to the bathroom, he felt stuck in the feeling that she didn’t believe him at all.
* * *
The press conference was held in the Rose Room, which was one of the palace’s smaller ballrooms. Two winged armchairs were set close together, angled carefully next to a window to maximize the natural light. They were close enough to the wall that, on camera, it gave the illusion that Felicity was sitting with the King in an intimate sitting room. In reality, the two of them faced a bank of reporters with cameras and microphones, arranged in a semicircle so that each person could jockey for the shot they wanted. Felicity had been trying to smile at every camera in turn, giving everyone an equal opportunity.
One of the smiling reporters addressed a question to Felicity, but she was focused so much on seeming normal in front of the cameras that she only caught the end of it. “—dream come true?”
He could only be asking one thing.
“Of course!” A wave of heat came to her cheeks. There were so many things about her life here in Stolvenia that were a dream come true, and others that were…not. The real answer, however, was far too complicated for a press conference leading up to their wedding. “I’m so happy.”
“What about you, King Rafael?”
“I’ve never been happier,” he answered firmly.
“Do you look forward to exchanging views with your new wife?” called someone from the back.
Rafael didn’t let the smile fall from his face. “Exchanging views? We already do that on a daily basis.”
There was a brief chuckle from the assembled reporters, but the voice piped up a second time. “Her sister’s interview with the Capital Daily gave us quite the hint into the future queen’s liberal views. Will you be taking them into consideration as you begin your lives together? By that I mean, will you be taking steps to further women’s rights in Stolvenia after the wedding?”
Felicity forgot to look at the cameras. Her eyes were glued to Rafael’s face, and though he didn’t turn to look at her, she saw a muscle in his jaw twitch. The silence went on a few heartbeats too long. “I’m not prepared to discuss that now.” His tone landed flatly, and there was a flurry of camera shutters and scribbling on notepads.
“King Rafael, if you don’t feel comfortable discussing it now—”
Rafael stood up so abruptly that the cord of his lapel microphone pulled taut. He slipped it off with a deft hand, motioning for Felicity to do the same. “That’s all the questions for today,” he said. “Thank you all for coming.”
Felicity’s heart was in her throat. That hadn’t been the plan. They were supposed to take questions for another fifteen minutes at least, and then sit for some staged photos. She hurried to keep up with Rafael on the way out of the Rose Room, then followed him all the way down the next hall to his office, where he shut the door behind them.
He went to the window, looking out, and said nothing.
“I’m not completely comfortable with how that went,” offered Felicity.
“And you think I am?” Rafael turned to face her. “If we can’t get through one interview without them hounding me about—”
“I’m not comfortable with the fact that you won’t take a position on something as cut and dried as women’s rights.” Felicity was finally feeling anger creep through the adrenaline of being in front of so many cameras. “Are you just faking interest in my opinions in the first place?”
Rafael’s eyes flew open wide and he scoffed, sticking his hands in his pockets, looking petulant. “In case you’ve forgotten, all of this was supposed to be fake. I don’t know that you even have a right to be making those kinds of comments or directing policy. You had your chance at last week’s events. That was enough, I’d say.”
Felicity drew herself up to her full height. “When we’re married, my right to comment on policy will be absolutely real. As real as anything I say to the press right now.” Her chin trembled, but she locked her teeth together to keep from letting her upset show. “You can’t possibly expect me to fake my entire life so you can keep looking good to the public.”
She couldn’t bear to stand there another moment, and she spun toward the door. Felicity wanted to be with Hope right now, and nobody else. Hope was all that mattered. None of Rafael’s stubbornness did. Not in this moment. Maybe not ever. And if he couldn’t see—
Felicity spun back. “I have half a mind not to go through with the wedding at all, just so you know.” She threw the words at him like barbs. Rafael opened his mouth, but she cut him off before he could speak. “Don’t bother saying anything else. There’s no point, remember?” She gestured to the rest of the room. “No cameras. I’ll see you at the rehearsal.”
16
After the wedding rehearsal, Rafael was early for the dinner.
Felicity had been swept away for a last-minute fitting with Joy, and he found himself in a
liminal space with nothing to do but wait. The banquet hall in the palace, thankfully, had a bar set up at one end, by the dais where he’d sit with his brothers and their wives.
“Great minds think alike,” said his middle brother, Artur, coming to get a drink himself.
“Great minds find opportunities even in the midst of chaos,” agreed Rafael. “Where’s Amy?”
“Not drinking, obviously.” Artur laughed. Rafael had never seen him as happy as he was with Amy. For most of his life, Artur had been the scapegrace brother, the one who seemed to care most about having a good time. The media had loved him but few had respected him…up until he did some growing up. Since Amy had come into his life, he’d turned things around, taking responsibility and stepping up to be the prince his nation needed—not to mention the husband and soon-to-be father he wanted to be for his family.
Rafael took a sip of the whiskey the bartender had just handed him to disguise his jealousy.
“She’s with Felicity, at the final fitting,” Artur continued. “They’re going over other wedding day details. Surely, nothing you need to know anything about.”
“Surely,” echoed Rafael. Going over wedding day details seemed a little silly at this point in the process. With the wedding taking place the next day, everything should be already set in stone. But what did he know? Maybe Felicity had confided in Amy the same thing she’d expressed to Rafael—that it felt like someone else’s wedding. He was still stewing about that. Rafael had never, and would never, have a wedding as anything other than the king of Stolvenia, so he wasn’t entirely sure what kind of control Felicity expected. And if she expected complete control—well. That would be an exercise in frustration. Royal events were always massively complicated.
He felt Artur looking at him. “What is it? Are you getting cold feet?”
European Billionaire Beaus: The Complete Series Page 30