by Romy Sommer
Chapter 26
Adam
My orgasm is so intense, so overwhelmingly powerful, that for a long moment afterwards I can’t think, can’t move. Khara’s weight is warm and comforting on top of me, her breath still shaky from her own climax.
I have never experienced anything like this before. Never felt as if this act was more than mutual desire, more than physical pleasure.
What I feel for this passionate, outspoken, honest woman is something I never thought I could feel. Certainly more than I want to feel. I should end this right here. Walk away before it’s too late, before I can’t walk away any more.
But I can’t. Maybe it’s already too late.
I stroke my fingers through her wild hair, brush it back from her cheek. Her eyes flutter open and she looks at me in that way she has, as if she’s looking deep inside me, and I pray she can’t see what I’m feeling. She cannot know the power she has over me.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask her to stay. Not just for a few days more, but forever. But then she stirs, moving off me, out of my arms, and my brain clears. Maybe it was just my dick doing the thinking for me. I pull those terrifying thoughts back deep inside, where they belong.
The moment will come when I will let her down, as I’ve let everyone I love down. That moment is inevitable. Better to do it sooner rather than later, before I can do too much damage. She doesn’t deserve to be hurt. And she certainly doesn’t deserve a ‘douche’ like me.
Just another few days. A few days more to drink my fill, to slake this near-constant thirst I have for her. That will have to be enough.
She pushes to her feet, and I follow more slowly. We swim again in the cold mountain water, washing off the sweat of our lovemaking, then dress in silence.
Back at the hut, I whistle for the dogs and they come bounding back, ready to play. Khara perches on the wooden fence to watch as I re-saddle the horses.
“I’m not staying in London with you.”
I turn to look at her, unsure I heard her right. “What?”
“Tomorrow, when we get to London, I’ll be using my ticket home to the States. This has been fun, but it’s time for me to leave.”
“But we discussed this—”
“No, we didn’t. You told me what you wanted, but you never asked what I wanted.”
It’s as if I’ve been dunked back into the icy river. My chest is so tight I can’t breathe. She doesn’t want to stay with me.
The horse fidgets, reminding me to finish tightening the girth. I secure the cinch strap before I turn back to her, my expression and emotions now firmly back under control. “I thought you wanted to see London.” I keep my voice even.
“I do, and maybe one day I will. But I have my own life to get back to. I need to go back where I belong.”
“You belong with me.” I didn’t intend to say that out loud, but now that it’s said I’m glad. It’s as if a tremendous weight has lifted off my chest. I can’t let her go without at least giving this a shot.
She casts me a withering look. “You and I both know that’s not true. You live in a castle and I live in a trailer park.”
I drop the stirrup back into place and walk towards her. The sun is behind her, in my eyes, and her face is in shadow.
“Why does everything have to be ‘us versus them’ with you? You’re American – why do you even buy into all this class crap? What about the American Dream, and how anyone can achieve anything? It doesn’t have to be one or the other. There’s always another option.” I hear Jemmy’s words as I hold Khara’s gaze.
I shouldn’t do this. I’m going to end up hurting her. But I find myself saying the words out loud anyway. “Stay with me. Please.”
I can’t read her expression. She’s quiet for a long moment, then, “You believe anyone can be or do anything they want, because that’s what you do. But you don’t get to stand there in your lofty position, with all your white male privilege, your expensive education and your trust fund, and tell me I can have that life. The world isn’t made like that, except for people like you. Girls like me don’t get to live in fairy tales. We don’t live in castles, or go to balls, or drink Champagne at polo matches. And that’s okay. I don’t need any of that to be happy. And, besides, the people of Erdély deserve better than a crown prince who is shacking up with a cocktail waitress.”
“I’m not going to be crown prince. Come live with me in London. My life there isn’t a fairy tale, and my flat isn’t a castle.”
She jumps down off the fence to face me, hands on her hips, eyes narrowed, anger rolling off her. “You can’t do that. You can’t walk away from your responsibilities.”
“I was never going to say yes.”
“Then what was this all about?” She waves her arm, indicating the valley before us. “Why even come here and get everyone’s hopes up?”
“Because I promised my mother I would consider this offer, and I promised Lajos I would at least visit here. But that’s all I ever promised.”
She stares hard at me, as if she doesn’t believe me.
“And because I thought you might like it, and I wanted to get in your pants.” There. I’ve said it. I’m no better than that jock who did a number on her in high school. “I am not the person everyone wants me to be.”
“You are exactly that person. You are the best person to lead this country. You know how to speak to people, how to win them over to your side. You understand the issues they face, and have the ability to fix them. So please explain to me why you won’t do this, and don’t give me that bullshit about it interfering with your self-indulgent lifestyle. You’re bored as all get-out with that lifestyle.”
I turn away to check that the picnic hamper is secured onto my saddle. “We need to get back to the castle. They’ll be wondering where we are.”
“We are not leaving until you tell me what this is really about.”
I release all the breath inside me, still not looking at her. “Because one day I will let them down. I won’t be there when they need me, and this time it won’t be one life, but many.”
“We’re not talking about Erdély any more, are we?” Her voice is soft, and I know now she really is seeing inside me, because I can feel her gaze scraping me raw.
I finally look at her. “I was so absorbed in myself that I had no idea what Charlie was going through. He called me that day, wanted to talk, and I blew him off. I don’t even remember why. Probably for a party or a woman, or just because there was something else I wanted to do instead. But if I’d talked to him, if I’d listened, maybe I could have stopped him from killing himself.” The words tumble out, things I’ve never told another living soul. “For a long time I blamed everyone else. His parents for their dysfunctional family. Kenzie for being in the house when he shot himself and for not stopping him. But the person I blame most is me. No one knew him better than I did. I knew that, underneath the cheerful face he showed the world, something was eating at him. I should have done something about it, and I didn’t.”
Khara is right there in my space, wrapping her arms around my waist, filling my cold and emptiness with her warmth. “That was a terrible thing that happened, but it’s not your fault. You need to forgive yourself. You can’t let that one thing determine who you are for the rest of your life.”
“It’s not just one thing. There was Nick too.”
Her gaze burns into mine, steady, relentless. “Nick made his own choices. His death had nothing to do with you.”
“We were both on the same path to self-destruction. I pulled myself out of it, and I should have done the same for him. But I didn’t. I was selfish and I cut him out of my life, even though I knew where it would end. I should have been there for him too.”
She cups my face with her hands so I can’t look away. “You did what you had to do to save yourself. That’s not selfish. You are a better person than you think you are. You once told me I should have more faith in myself, but you’re the one who needs to have fai
th in yourself.”
I pull away from her. That deep, dark fear I haven’t wanted to name rears up and stares me in the face. It’s the knowledge that behind the money and the family name, behind the destructive lifestyle, I am not worthy, and I do not deserve to be happy. I am certainly not worthy of a woman like Khara.
This is the reminder I need, the reminder that I have to cut these ties that bind us together before they get any more entangled. I need to set her free so she can be happy. She deserves her dream; that house with the yard and the white picket fence, with a husband and kids who adore her and treat her right. I can’t give her any of that. I can’t give anyone that.
I unwrap her arms from around me. “When are you going to accept that I’m not the man you think I am?”
Grabbing the horse’s reins, I pull myself up into the saddle, leaving her standing, staring up at me. “You’ve made your position clear, so I guess we’re done.”
I turn the horse’s head, dig in my heels, and head back down the mountain, whistling for the dogs to follow. I should have been a gentleman, should have helped her mount, but if I’d stayed another moment I might have lost the courage to do the right thing and walk away from her.
***
No matter how I try to make it appear that nothing has changed, Sonja and Lajos sense the tension between us. Dinner is awkward, filled with stilted conversation and long silences.
“We’ll be leaving early,” I announce. Khara doesn’t even look at me.
When we get to our room, we don’t say a word. She quietly packs her suitcase and I take a shower. Then, while she is in the bathroom, I pack my own bag and make myself up a bed on the sofa in the sitting room. When she emerges from the bathroom, I pretend to be asleep.
Yes, I’m a coward. I have never pretended to be anything else.
***
In the morning the maid brings our coffee and pastries and we eat in silence, then I ring for a servant to carry our bags down. The helicopter is already waiting in the meadow below the castle. There are no sheep today.
Lajos and Sonja are at the entrance to say goodbye to us. Khara hugs them both, and I shake Lajos’ hand.
“I’ll see you next week,” he says, his face impassive.
Khara sends me a pointed look. Tell him now, that look says. Don’t keep him waiting. Be honest.
But I can’t. Not while I’m still feeling all these mixed-up emotions. I don’t know what I might say.
János escorts us to the helicopter to see us off. It feels as if we’ve come full circle since that Friday morning when he came to summon me to my uncle.
The noise of the helicopter makes it impossible to talk. Arenberg falls away behind us and then we’re up and over the mountains, crossing over the border into Austria. Airport officials are ready on the tarmac in Graz to transport us to the plane, and then we’re up in the air again, the flight attendant offering us Champagne and snacks. With each mile we draw closer to London, the sense of dread inside me deepens. I drown it out with Champagne. By the time we land, I’ve finished most of the bottle on my own.
The car I requested is already waiting for us on the runway at Heathrow. While the flight attendant goes to supervise the transfer of our luggage, I turn to Khara. “This is your last chance. Are you sure you don’t want to change your mind and stay?”
She shakes her head. “This has already lasted longer than it ever should have. You were never even supposed to know my name.”
I have no idea what she means by that. “You were never going to give this a chance, were you? You had your mind made up long before Max and Phoenix tried to bring us together for their little bet. You were prejudiced about me before you even knew me. Who was it who put that chip on your shoulder, because it couldn’t just have been some arsehole back in high school.”
Her eyes blaze. “No. You did. The day we met.”
I flash back through everything I said and did when we first met and frown, confused.
“Once upon a time, there was a girl who worked in a casino.” Her voice is calm. Too calm. “One of the customers groped her inappropriately, and his cousin stepped in to stop it. She was very grateful, and she thought maybe this other man was different, that maybe he wasn’t just another entitled jerk. She thought maybe he was one of the good guys. For about twenty seconds, until he offered her money and his room key card.”
“Sounds like a douche.” It also sounds like the kind of thing I would have done not so long ago. She looks at me intently, and something finally clicks in my brain. “I was that douche.” The last time I was in Vegas was a year ago. But … “I would have remembered you.”
That was the night I decided I was done with being Nick’s nanny and bailing him out of every scrape, the night I met a sparky waitress who looked at me with such disdain in her eyes that for the first time in my life I was ashamed of who I’d become. I would have remembered that woman.
It’s not disdain in her eyes now. It’s pain. “I don’t think you would. If I’d served you food and drinks in a restaurant in London or Paris or Tahiti, or on board this plane, you still wouldn’t have remembered me. You only truly noticed me, not as an easy conquest but as a person, when we were introduced inside a palace.”
A slow anger starts to burn beneath my skin. “I am not that shallow. I don’t care about class or money.”
She shrugs. “Maybe not, but they’ve made you who you are. How many times have you flashed your smile and crooked your finger and expected everyone to do your bidding? And on the rare occasions when that air of entitlement isn’t enough to get you what you want, you simply whip out that black card and buy it.”
Her words are like bullets striking me. Because I know she’s right.
She raises her chin, as proud as she was that night in Vegas. But the look in her eyes wasn’t there the first time we met, of that I’m sure. Because I’ve put it there.
“But you can’t buy me. I am not for sale.”
She turns and heads towards the exit, disappearing out of the door and out of my life.
By the time I finally leave the plane and make the short walk to the waiting car, there is no sign of her. There is nothing left of her but the gaping hole where my heart should be. Once again, I’ve let down someone I love.
Chapter 27
Adam
Nick’s funeral takes place in the Church of St József on the main square in Arenberg. The mood in the town is sombre, and everywhere the streets are decorated with black sashes and the flags fly at half mast, but there is no street procession and no crowded pavements as there were in Westerwald when Rik and Max’s father died.
The service is conducted in a mix of Erdélian, German and English. The church is surprisingly full, considering how many people Nick pissed off before he died. There are school friends and polo friends, prominent local citizens, even a few of Nick’s ex-girlfriends. The entire family is there, aunts and uncles, extended cousins, including those from other royal families, and including Sonja’s Danish relatives. Max and Phoenix are here too, though I’m doing my best to avoid them. I don’t think I can look Phoenix in the eyes.
But I’ve made peace with Kenzie, at least. She and Rik aren’t here today. Their baby boy was born just a couple of days ago. They’re calling him Nicholas Charles. Another Nick. Hopefully with a brighter future ahead of him than his namesakes. I realise now that I took my anger at myself out on her. I never truly thought she could have done things any differently. It feels good to apologise. But the one person I need to apologise to most of all isn’t here. She’s on the other side of the world.
Lajos and Sonja sit alone in the front row, in the royal pew. His shoulders slump, and her eyes are glazed. Her calm seems brittle, and I expect she’s taken another sedative to get through this ordeal.
My family sit in the row behind Lajos and Sonja. My parents, Jemima, me. Mátyás, with his mother and his new fiancée, a Belgian countess. They announced their engagement only a few days ago and I have no doubt the
sudden betrothal was brought on by news of my visit to Erdély. He’s hoping to outmanoeuvre me, hoping that if he appears to be settled and stable, with the right kind of wife, then Uncle Lajos will announce him as the heir.
The press conference is scheduled for tomorrow. I still haven’t given Lajos my final decision. I believed my decision was made, but I can’t seem to bring myself to say the words.
The priest instructs us to stand to pray. I rise with everyone else, but don’t hear the words of the prayer. I hear Khara’s voice in my head. ‘Men like that don’t marry women like us. They’ll happily screw us, but when they marry they choose women from their own social circle, and they break our hearts …’
Until I met Khara I assumed I would live and die alone. The thought of marriage never even crossed my mind. But in the week since I watched her walk away I’ve been thinking about it rather a lot. What would it be like to have a partnership like Max and Phoenix’s? Or my parents’? Not a marriage to score points or to be dutiful, but because you simply cannot live without the other person.
I can live without Khara. I can get through the day. I can go to work. I can eat and sleep and breathe. But if I thought my life was empty and meaningless before I met her, it’s even more so now. Because now I know what I’m missing. She put a face and a name to my dissatisfaction. I can live without her, because I have to. I’ve already hurt her enough for one lifetime, and I won’t hurt her again.
In the pew in front of us, my uncle reaches out to take his wife’s hand. For the first time since I heard the news of Nick’s death, tears prick my eyes. They look so small, so alone, just the two of them. Glancing sideways at Jemmy, I see she’s noticed too. She brushes the corner of her eye.
Around us, everyone’s heads are bowed in prayer. Before I can reconsider, I slip past Jemmy, out of our pew. Her eyes go wide.
I step into the front pew, to stand beside my aunt. Lajos turns to look at me, and smiles.
The prayer ends, the organ starts to play and the priest waves for us all to sit.