The Billionaire King’s Heir (European Billionaire Beaus 3)

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 yo

u,” 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.