My Forbidden Royal Fling

I can feel his condemnation even without turning to face him.

‘I know you can’t possibly understand, but the scandal would be disastrous. Particularly if it’s after my engagement has been announced.’

I hear a puff of air, a sound of derision.

‘Like I said, what you’re suggesting is very tempting, and if I were free to do whatever I wanted then I’d probably agree. But I’m not free, Santiago. I’m not free and never will be.’

‘You are martyring yourself,’ he accuses coldly.

‘Martyring myself? No. I’m serving my people and their needs above my own, as I always have and always will.’

‘Serve them, by all means, but it’s the twenty-first century. Find a way to live your own life too.’

‘And what does that entail?’ I demand, turning the tables on him. ‘What are you suggesting? What life should I lead? Have an affair with you until you tire of me and move on—exposing me to ridicule and public sympathy as a jilted ex-lover of the great Santiago del Almodovár? Can you imagine what my parents would say?’

His eyes narrow, his face taut.

‘And we both know you will tire of me. Because this is all you’re offering, right?’ I gesture towards the floor we just made love on. ‘Memorable but meaningless sex—secret, shameful assignations and no future?’

‘You are the one who’s ashamed,’ he responds quickly, then changes course. ‘Do you want a future with me?’

My lips part, my brow clammy. I shake my head once, even when my heart is bursting with desperation to say, yes, that’s exactly what I want!

‘So what is the problem, then?’ he demands, eyes narrowing.

I stare across at him, an ache in my chest widening into the worst pain I’ve ever felt.

‘You have said many times that you cannot be seen with me, that no one can know about this. I get it. As ridiculous as I think that is, my ego is secure enough to not care. But if you cannot be seen with me, you sure as hell cannot marry me, so don’t act as though you’re holding out for a proposal.’

‘I’m not,’ I whisper, even as I think maybe I am. I realise it sounds ludicrous. We’ve known each other such a short amount of time, but none of that matters, because I know him. On every level I know him, and I love him, and I want to spend my life with him. It’s an impossible fantasy.

‘But what if I wasn’t going to marry Heydar?’ I push with soft determination. ‘What if I was free to do what I wanted with my life? You still wouldn’t be proposing to me.’

He drags a hand through his hair, pinning me with the intensity of his gaze. ‘I have never wanted to marry anyone.’

I bite down on my lower lip to stop myself from reacting.

‘And you have to have children. There is no hypothetical to negate the importance of that. Right?’

‘Right.’ I clear my throat, the chasm between us widening to an insurmountable distance. ‘Which brings me back to the stupidity of continuing this. It’s just going to lead to one or both of us getting really badly hurt, okay?’

‘Hurt how?’

My heart breaks at that. It shows how little he cares for me that he can’t even grasp what I’m getting at.

‘You sleep with a lot of women. I get it. Sex is just sex for you. It means nothing.’

His brow creases.

‘But I’m...not like that. You’ll always be my first and, despite the fact that I know how transient this is, I care about you.’

He nods slowly, as though only just starting to comprehend. ‘And you’re worried you might fall in love with me?’

I close my eyes, the truth thick in my throat.

‘You won’t, Freja. You’re too smart for that.’

I make a scoffing noise. ‘Believe me, it’s risky. I have to marry Heydar, and I can’t do that if I’m pining for you. I need a clean break, time to get over you and move on with my life. We had fun in Spain but it needs to stay there.’