European Billionaire Beaus: The Complete Series

by North, Leslie

  “About the dinner?” Rafael joked.

  “About the wedding,” said Artur, crooking one eyebrow.

  Rafael let out a sigh. There was no one in earshot—even the bartender had taken several steps away to give them a modicum of privacy. “There’s been some…friction between us.”

  “Regarding?”

  “Regarding the fact that Felicity doesn’t think this is her wedding. She feels like she’s been on the outside of the whole process.”

  “In a way, she’s right.” Artur had had his own royal wedding.

  “Yes, but I can’t find a way to tell her…” He shook his head. This was not the kind of thing he was used to putting in words.

  Artur wasn’t having it. “You can tell me, you know. I’m not going to go running to the press. My days in that kind of spotlight are over.”

  “Fine.” Rafael was exasperated on perhaps every possible level. “The wedding ceremony is the least of my worries. It’s just another ceremony.” He waved his drink in front of him as if he were batting away the ceremony itself. “It’s an important one, to be sure, but the most important part is the marriage. And maybe I brought her here at first because of the referendum, and because I wanted Hope to be raised in Stolvenia, but now…marrying her isn’t for the public. But it seems that she can’t see that it’s not for the public.”

  “Oh no, it certainly is.” Artur sipped his own drink. “All of what we do is for the public, but maybe you’re looking at it the wrong way.”

  “What way is that?” Rafael swallowed another burst of frustration with a sip of whiskey.

  “Perhaps…” Artur studied him. “Perhaps you’ve been thinking of this as a way to…distract our citizens. To entertain them.” He lifted his own glass. “God knows I was good at that. But the purpose of what we do is actually to serve the people.”

  There was a stab of guilt if he’d ever felt one. It was precisely what Felicity had been trying to get at. He’d brushed her off. “Of course,” he said lamely.

  “You know, I think the majority of our people only want to see you happy. And you have been happy since you’ve brought Hope and Felicity here, haven’t you?”

  “Yes.” The truth was there, all in one word. “It’s been hard, but I’ve been happy. I never knew how much I wanted—” His throat tightened. “I never knew how much I wanted to be a father until I met Hope. I never knew how happy that could make me. I didn’t know anything could make me that happy. I thought I could only look forward to being the best king possible.” He had to admit, at least to himself, that he hadn’t even done that lately. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t loved every moment.

  “It’s Felicity who seems a little less happy, if you ask me. Sometimes, the way she looks in pictures…” Artur shrugged. “It can be difficult, with the press attention. Maybe she needs more time.”

  “Did you start the party without us?” Amy’s voice cut in, and Artur’s face lit up at the approach of his wife. She stepped to his side and he wrapped one arm around her, laying his palm on her belly and grinning down at her in a way that bordered on breaking the modesty rules. Then he kissed her, and all that flew out the window.

  Rafael became aware of Felicity standing at his side, looking at the other couple with an expression that was caught between envy and curiosity. She looked absolutely stunning, in a white sleeveless dress and a low tiara, but when she turned to him he didn’t see much joy. Only duty.

  “Well,” she said dryly, keeping her voice low and confidential. “While those two lovebirds are at it, we should get some champagne.” She laughed. “That’ll be completely fine according to protocol, right?”

  That, as far as Rafael was concerned, was the high point of the rehearsal dinner.

  Once Felicity heard they had a delicious brand of white wine at the bar, she settled for that. Rafael went for his customary red. After a few moments, Amy detached herself from Artur and the two of them joined the little clutch by the bar. Artur followed Rafael’s lead with the red wine, and Amy had a sparkling cider. By the time Amy had a chance to ask Felicity how she was doing with the runaway freight train that was a royal wedding, other guests were filtering in—including a few photographers.

  Rafael watched as Felicity straightened her back and smiled at Amy, her face perfectly calm. “Oh, I’m all right,” she said. Nothing in her face betrayed the doubt he knew she felt. Artur caught Rafael’s eyes but said nothing. “All this…” She waved around the room, putting on a bigger smile as she did so. “It’s the way things are.” Felicity sounded perfectly calm when she said this, but as the dinner progressed, Rafael knew it wasn’t true.

  Felicity sat at the table, back straight, face carefully arranged. She was meticulous with her silverware, every movement constrained.

  She looked…trapped.

  No matter what she did, whether it was leaning over to hear what his brother Artur said or nodding across the table at a point one of the high-ranking Stolvenian court members made, her face was guarded. It was true that she was playing the role of the gracious queen, but the more Rafael watched her, the more it became obvious—the role was more than a role.

  It was a cage.

  Right in front of his eyes, Felicity was practically shrinking away from the boundaries. She sat at the table, yes, but there were invisible bounds all around her. All those rules, all those protocols…he’d so badly wanted her to be able to navigate them all, but now that Felicity was doing it, he couldn’t help but notice the similarities to a bird with clipped wings.

  He picked at his food. There was a painful fact he didn’t want to admit, even to himself…that their wedding would do more than act as a happy press event for the monarchy. It would, in fact, tie Felicity closer to him than ever. It would make it harder for her to disappear on him again.

  Harder…but not impossible. And Rafael knew that a person who felt trapped would either make a play to escape or wither away.

  He was on his feet before he’d consciously made the decision, but it caught up to him as he approached her, several seats down at the table. Felicity turned her face up toward him as he bent down low, her eyes wide. “Can I see you in the hallway for a moment?”

  “Of course,” she said stiffly, then got up and followed him out without another backward glance.

  Out in the hall, there was no one to watch them but a few staff members hustling by. Rafael sucked in a breath and forced out the words before he had a chance to lose his nerve. “I can’t go through with this.”

  Felicity’s eyebrows shot up on her forehead. “The wedding?”

  “Forcing you to stay with me.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think—”

  “I’ve watched you at this party,” he said urgently. This was not a time to play games, not a time to waver. “You looked like a caged bird, and I—some part of me wanted us to be bound together in a way that would be hard to undo.” Rafael ran a hand through his hair. “The last time you ran from me was so painful that I thought I would do anything to protect myself from getting hurt like that again. Just…not this. I can’t keep you here under the pretense that you have no choice.”

  “Everything is already planned,” said Felicity. “Everyone—”

  “It doesn’t matter what everyone else thinks, or does. My mother was wrong to control you the way that she did. I won’t do the same thing under the guise of good public relations. I simply won’t do it.”

  Felicity bit her lip. “The wedding is in two days.”

  “And I don’t intend to cancel it.”

  “You don’t?”

  “No.” He stuck his hands in his pockets. “I intend to give you a choice. I intend to…set you free. This is your decision now. If you come to the wedding, then I’d gladly have you as my wife. You must know that. But if you don’t, I’ll use the public space to announce that our romantic relationship won’t be continuing.” He swallowed hard. “You deserve better, but this is what I can give you now.”

  �
��What about the referendum?” Her voice was soft, but not small. “It’s scheduled for the wedding day. Any sign of—”

  “Your happiness means more than that.”

  Felicity nodded slowly, realization dawning in her eyes. Then, one more time, she stepped forward and kissed Rafael on the cheek.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, and though he knew he should argue with her, should tell her that she didn’t owe him a thank you or anything else, he couldn’t bring himself to say the words. He could only watch as she turned and went, disappearing down the hall.

  The kiss lingered there long after she’d gone.

  17

  As part of the “traditions” surrounding the wedding, Felicity’s things had already been moved out of Rafael’s suite and into her own rooms—custom demanded that they spend the last night before the wedding apart. So there was no question about where she’d retreat to, closing the door behind her as she struggled to process it all.

  She was still wearing the white dress she’d worn to the rehearsal, and her calves ached from her high heels as she made her way back to her own suite of rooms. What was Rafael doing now? Had he made some excuse for her? The thoughts flitted in and out of her mind, but a dull ache behind her rib cage made it impossible for them to stick. No matter what he did, it was over.

  Wasn’t it? She couldn’t very well head back to the rehearsal dinner and pretend everything was fine. Not after what he’d said.

  Felicity peeked in on Hope’s nursery, which took up a good third of the suite. Sara had put her to bed an hour before, and the toddler slept peacefully in her crib, her breathing even. Felicity went to the side of the crib and laid her hand on Hope’s curls, gently so that she wouldn’t wake up. The little girl stirred at her mother’s touch, turned over, and hugged her bear tighter to her chest.

  Felicity felt more than a little adrift now that she didn’t have a schedule for the rest of the evening. It was surprising, in a way, how fast someone could get used to an unending structured schedule. Then again, she’d never really had a choice about staying busy. Since Joy’s accident, there had always been more to do when the work of the day was done. It only added up when Hope was born. Her heart squeezed. Not that she’d take back a single day of it.

  She waited until she was outside Hope’s room to take in a big breath and let it out slowly.

  Time.

  That’s what Rafael had wanted to give her—time and space to make the decision about them on her own. That’s what she should do. She should set aside the hurt she couldn’t quite explain and think.

  First things first, Felicity went back to her bedroom and wriggled out of the white dress and the white heels. It was only when she’d put on a pair of lounge pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt and gone into the bathroom to splash water on her face that she discovered she was still wearing the tiara. It was so light she had long since forgotten its weight. She pulled it out of her hair and set it on a stand next to the sink.

  Did she even want to be queen? It didn’t feel good, exactly, taking off the tiara—even if Felicity knew the decorative headgear didn’t give her any title. She’d expected to feel more of a weight lifting from her shoulders, but there it was, still settled there like a heavy blanket whether she wore the tiara or not.

  Felicity moved around the living area, putting toys into baskets and absently gathering together books, stacking them on the coffee table. She wasn’t packing, exactly, but there was no way she could think about this without some kind of movement.

  She went back into the bedroom and took out a hanger for the white rehearsal dinner dress. It wouldn’t do to leave it sprawled on the bed like that, and she’d only worn it for a couple of hours. As she slid the dress onto the hanger, her mind flashed forward.

  What about Hope? Would she wear a dress like this one day, at her own rehearsal? How was she going to feel about all this? No matter what Felicity did, Hope would be a princess. It was in her blood, and unavoidable as the sunrise.

  Felicity shrugged, though there was nobody there to see her. No matter what Rafael said, would she ever really be free of all this if Hope wasn’t?

  The questions swirled in her mind as she hung up the dress and put the shoes on the shelf inside her walk-in closet. There was also the question of bearing this life if she couldn’t be near Rafael. Even when she had been at her most exasperated, it had lit her up inside to see him…and to touch him.

  Couples were supposed to have different periods of adjustment. But Felicity didn’t want to change herself completely to be with him. There had to be a balance, somehow. She had to have control over some aspect of her life. Things had been hard in Des Moines, that was true. The bills caused relentless stress. But palace life had its own set of stresses. How could she account for the happiness she’d found in each? Which carried more weight?

  She closed the closet door. The scale in her mind tipped back and forth, swinging wildly, and Felicity wiped a hand over her eyes. This was not how she had expected the rehearsal dinner to go.

  “I just don’t know,” she said into the still air. “I have no idea what to do, or where to go.” It was uncanny, how much she felt like the younger version of herself who had been newly pregnant with Hope.

  “You don’t know what?”

  Joy’s voice was even, but it still made Felicity jump. Her sister rolled in through the door, still wearing her blush pink dress from the rehearsal. It was the same shade as the bridesmaids dress she was set to wear at the wedding, but a different cut. The couture designers in charge of the wedding fashion had coordinated everything.

  “Come on, tell me,” Joy said. “You disappeared from your own rehearsal dinner. I figured something big was up.” Her eyes scanned the room. “But I don’t hear Hope crying like she’s sick or injured, so she must be okay.”

  Felicity sat down on the bed, her knees going out from beneath her. “Hope is fine.” She clutched that fact close, just like Hope had been clutching her bear. “She’s blissfully ignorant that anything is going on at all. You know, I don’t think she remembers the old apartment we had.” Felicity laughed, but it was a sad sound, even to her. “Not that I’d expect her to. She’s so little.”

  Joy rolled closer and put a hand on Felicity’s knee. “Is this really about Hope? Or is this about what Rafael said to you after the two of you stepped outside?”

  Felicity met her sister’s eyes. “Did he tell you?” Her stomach dropped at the thought of him making that kind of announcement at the rehearsal dinner. Not only would it destroy the illusion of a happy couple, it would create endless fodder for the tabloids.

  “Of course not. I’m just observant. When your sister, the bride, gets up from the table with a resigned expression and doesn’t come back…” Joy smiled ruefully. “It was easy to put two and two together.”

  “He didn’t—” Felicity swallowed a lump in her throat. “He didn’t cancel the dinner, did he?”

  Joy cocked her head to the side. “Do you really think he’d do that? No.” She shook her head definitively. “Rafael came back in and said you needed a moment. I think everyone assumed it was something to do with Hope.” Joy sat up straight in her chair. “Spill it.”

  “He—” Felicity’s chest went tight and hot. “He told me he couldn’t go through with the wedding…not the way things stood. He told me that he saw how trapped I felt, with all the rules, and how unhappy…”

  “Unhappy? With him?” Joy’s expression was skeptical. “He can’t have meant that.”

  “With the whole…production of it all.” Felicity wiped at an errant tear that had slipped from the corner of her eye. “Last week I told him the wedding didn’t really feel like mine. At the time, it seemed like he shrugged the comment off, but it looks like it must have stuck. I guess I’ve been thinking that this was going to be my life. Showing up for events that aren’t really under my control and waiting for the ones that mean something.”

  “You did love the International Women’s Day stuff,
” Joy agreed. “You really seemed to hit your stride at those events.”

  “I did,” said Felicity. “I did. I didn’t feel so enthusiastic about today, and Rafael saw. So he gave me an out.”

  “An out?”

  Her hands were trembling. “He said he wouldn’t cancel the wedding, but it was up to me whether I’d show up or not. Now I don’t know what to do. I have no idea, Joy.”

  Joy raised her eyebrows. “It seems simple enough to me.”

  She gaped at her sister. “Does it? Because all of this seems massively complicated from my perspective.”

  “All of this?” Joy gestured around at the room around them, and by extension, the rest of the castle. “All of this pales in comparison to one fact.”

  “What fact is that?”

  Joy laughed. “That Rafael is the love of your life. And you’re the love of his.”

  Felicity blinked. “That’s—no. He moved on within minutes after I left. He never even bothered to come find me.”

  “Oh please.” Joy was having none of that. “You didn’t reach out to him, either. And we both know his mother played a big part in that. But what she did—that doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is that he still loves you now. He brought you here to be close to him.”

  “What about being royalty?” Felicity swallowed another round of tears. “I don’t even know if I’m capable of being a good queen.”

  “You already are being a good queen.”

  “I don’t like it,” Felicity admitted. “I don’t like the PR and the rules and the protocol.”

  “I’m not talking about that. Those things…those are just trappings. Being a queen is about things like the International Women’s Day events. And guiding a country toward a better future. In the end, the protocol will be what you make it.”

  Felicity heard the truth ringing in Joy’s voice.

  “We do better when we’re breaking rules, anyway,” Joy said with a sly smile. “You can’t argue with that.”

  Another truth. The country had loved her best when she was stepping a little outside the lines.