His Majesty's Mistake

“But now you’re done with me.”

Her chest constricted, her heart was on fire. “Yes.”

“You used me.”

“Yes.” She extended her hand, the ring balanced on her palm. “Take it. Give it to your next wife. Let’s hope you make a better choice than you did with me.”

Makin pushed away from the table without a word. Emmeline waited, feeling as if life as she knew it had come to an end.

There would never be another Makin Al-Koury. There would never be a man with his grace or strength or courage.

She sat for another fifteen minutes hoping against hope that he’d come back, grab her, shake her, kiss her, tell her she was a fool. Because she was a fool. A frightened fool.

But he didn’t return.

Instead she heard the distant roar of an engine. Emmeline froze, cold all over. It was Makin’s plane.

Makin was leaving her.

Emmeline rose, stood in place, her heart thudding heavily, hollowly in her ears.

What had she done? What had she done to him? To them?

She raced from the terrace to the upper garden, and the distant roar of the jet’s engines grew stronger. Panic flooded her. What was the matter with her? What was she thinking? When would she stop being so afraid?

She had to stop him, had to catch him, had to let him know she was wrong. Emmeline dashed down the stone stairs of the terraces. The plane would be taking off any minute. There was no way to reach the runway in time but maybe she could catch the pilot’s attention, maybe Makin would see her on the beach.

Emmeline tore down the narrow wooden stairs, taking the white painted steps two at a time, running across the sand to the water.

The engines grew louder. She spun around, waving her arms overhead as the white jet appeared directly over her. It rose swiftly into the sky. She ran deeper into the water, waving madly. Surely Makin would see. Or the pilot. Someone.

But the jet kept banking right, ascending steeply, soaring over the ocean, letting Marquette fall behind.

Emmeline’s arms fell to her sides. For several minutes she just stood there as waves crashed and broke against her legs.

He’d gone. He’d gone just as she feared he would.

Because she’d chased him away.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

EMMELINE stayed on the beach for an hour, and then another, unable to leave the cove. Her legs wouldn’t hold her. She couldn’t stop crying. She’d never hated herself so much in her entire life, and that was saying a lot because Emmeline was an expert in self-loathing.

But enough was enough.

When would she grow up? Become that strong prince with the sword who was slaying dragons instead of the princess in the tower?

When would she be someone she could admire? When would she stop acting out of fear?

She’d hurt Makin because she was afraid he’d hurt her. She’d gathered her love for him and turned it into a weapon, slashing out at Makin as if he was the dragon.

He was no dragon. He was a prince. A hero.

The man she adored with all her heart. Even though it was a broken and battered heart.

But hearts mended and love could heal and she could become stronger. She could become brave. She just had to tell Makin the truth.

That she loved him… more than she’d loved anyone. and she would work on changing if he would just be patient. If he’d just give her the chance.

And somehow, in her heart, she knew he would. Because he was that kind of man.

She wiped away tears with the back of her arm. She should go back to the house. She’d been on the beach for hours but she needed to gather her composure. Even though Makin was gone, she couldn’t be seen with a swollen, red face—princesses didn’t cry in public—and so she lingered for another half hour on the beach, watching a storm move across the horizon, ominous clouds gathering in the sky.

The first raindrops fell as the wind blew in a gust that lashed at the palm trees. Emmeline cast a glance at the now-dark sky. The clouds were black. The wind began to howl. Brushing the sand off the back of her skirt, she quickly headed for the stairs.

The wind buffeted Emmeline as she climbed the old staircase, and for a moment she paused, feeling the stairs sway and creak. She shuddered a little as they swayed again. Suddenly there was a loud pop and crack and Emmeline grabbed the staircase rail as she felt the wooden stairs begin to collapse.

The baby, she thought in panic, as the wooden structure folded in on itself like a row of dominoes and she scrambled backward, leaping into the soft wet sand just as the entire staircase came crashing down.

Emmeline sat up and put a hand to her middle. She hadn’t fallen hard. It hadn’t been a very high jump. She hadn’t even had the wind knocked out of her. The baby couldn’t have been hurt.

But it was a wake-up call, she thought, stepping away from the wooden debris. She needed to be more careful.