“I’m sorry. I had no idea that quitting the pill was going to cause this much...” To her dismay a sob popped out. Just like that. No warning. No chance to swallow it or choke on it. Then tears were streaming down her face and Gabriel was stroking her hair and squeezing her hand. His gentleness only made her feel worse.
“Olivia, I’m so sorry.”
He placed her palm against his cheek. The warmth beneath her fingers spread up her arm and drifted through her entire body as she took in the aching sadness in his eyes.
“I’m going to be fine,” she lied, hating how much she wanted to lean on him for support. Choking on her misery, she barreled on. “At least now there’s no question whether I can have children. You’ll never have to wonder if by marrying me you made a huge mistake.”
“Marrying you would never have been a mistake.”
But if she’d had difficulty getting pregnant, he couldn’t help but blame her.
“That’s a moot point.” She willed herself to be strong and to make the break quick and final. “We can’t marry now.”
“I’m not giving up on us.” He covered her hand with his and regarded her with somber eyes.
“There is no more us, Gabriel.” She tugged her hand free. “You are going to be king of Sherdana one day. You need to put your country’s needs first.”
“I have two brothers—”
“Please.” She couldn’t bear to hear any more. Anything he said would encourage her to be optimistic and the last thing she needed to do was hope everything was going to be okay. “I’m really tired. And I’m in pain. I just want to see my father.”
He looked as if he wanted to argue with her. She shook her head and closed her eyes. Another tear trickled down her cheek, but she ignored it.
“And I think it would be better if you don’t visit me again.”
“I can’t accept that.”
“Please, Gabriel.”
He exhaled harshly. “I’ll get your father.”
She waited to open her eyes until his soft footfalls receded. Her fingers tingled from contact with Gabriel’s cheek. It brought to mind all those times when her hands had roamed over him, exploring his masculine contours, learning all the delightful ways his body differed from hers.
Reaching toward a nearby box of tissues exhausted her. The weakness was frustrating. Before she had the chance to lose herself in the black cloud of misery that hovered nearby, her father entered the room. His embrace stirred up her emotions again and Olivia began to cry once more. This time, however, she didn’t feel the need to hold back. His shirt was soaked by the time she ran out of tears.
“I want to go home,” she told him, making use of the tissue box once again.
“The doctor wants to keep you in here for at least a week.”
“Can’t I be transferred to a hospital in London?”
“You are in no shape to travel.” He patted her hand. “It’s just a week. Then I’ll take you home.”
A week. It was too long. More than her body needed to heal and that wouldn’t be possible until she was miles and miles from Sherdana and its prince.
* * *
Shortly after speaking with Olivia, Gabriel returned to the palace alone, his emotions in turmoil. Staff scattered as he crossed the expansive foyer, heading for his office. The way they disappeared he must have looked like the devil himself had come calling.
It had shocked him that after she’d survived her brush with death, her first act would be to end their engagement. She’d done it gracefully, shouldering the responsibility, leaving him free to move on with a clear conscience.
“Move on.”
He spat out the words like the foulest curse. No matter how angry he’d been when he found out about her medical condition, he’d not really considered ending things. How could he ever replace Olivia in his life after making love with her? Watching her with his daughters? Seeing that damned tattoo. Hope. He could sure use some right now.
Entering his office, he flung himself into a chair near the cold fireplace. He’d been up all night. Exhaustion should be eating into his bones and muscles, but rage burned white-hot in his veins. He massaged his temples where a headache had begun the minute he’d walked out of Olivia’s hospital room. Or perhaps it had been there all along. Up until that moment, he’d been completely focused on Olivia.
But after leaving her bedside, he realized that his role in her life was over. As was her role in his. From now on they would be nothing more than familiar strangers. He would probably not exchange a dozen words with her before she left for England and her old life.
God, his chest ached.
“Your Highness?” Gabriel’s secretary had poked his head in the door.
“Not now, Stewart.”
He needed some time to adjust. How much time, he didn’t know. He’d never imagined having to live without Olivia and he wasn’t going to pretend that he could just shake off this tragedy and continue on.
“Your Highness,” Stewart persisted. “Your father, the king, wants to speak with you.”
“I know my father is the king,” Gabriel said, taking his annoyance out on his private secretary. He pushed out of the chair, deciding to face whatever his father had to say now rather that make the king wait until he’d showered and changed.
He found his father on the phone in his office and went to pour himself a shot of scotch while he waited for him to conclude the call.
“A little early for that, isn’t it?” the king demanded as he hung up.
“I think a man’s entitled to a drink after his fiancée breaks up with him, don’t you?”
The king shot him a hard glance as he rose to his feet and crossed to the tray with the coffeepot and cups. Pouring a cup, he plucked the crystal tumbler from Gabriel’s finger and replaced it with bone china.
“I just got off the phone with Lord Darcy. He told me you and Olivia ended things.”
Ah, so the old man was pulling his offer to set up a company since his daughter was no longer going to be Sherdana’s queen. Gabriel shrugged. He didn’t really blame the earl for changing his mind.
“She ended it,” he said. “But don’t worry. Christian will find us some other prospective investors.” He sipped the coffee and regarded his father over the brim. “Perhaps one of them will even have an eligible daughter since apparently I’m back on the market.”
The king let Gabriel’s bitter comment pass unanswered. “Naturally, I would like to continue pursuing other companies, but the need isn’t urgent. Darcy is going forward with his plans.”
Gabriel’s cup hit the saucer with a clatter. From his contact with Lord Darcy, he knew the man was a hardheaded businessman. Sherdana was a good choice for expansion, but not his only and not necessarily his best.
Olivia.
This was her doing.
The exhaustion he’d expected to feel earlier washed over him now. Gabriel wavered on his feet. “Olivia must have told him to honor the commitment. There’s no other reason for Darcy to proceed.”
“But if she knows you’re not getting married, why would she persuade her father to honor his commitment to us?”
“Because that’s the sort of woman she is,” Gabriel said. “Honorable. The sort who doesn’t go back on a promise. Unlike me,” he finished in an undertone.
This time, his bitterness was too much for his father to ignore. “You are not reneging on a promise to Lady Darcy,” the king said. “She understands she will never be able to give you an heir and has graciously ended your engagement.”
That’s when it hit him. He didn’t want their engagement to end.
Olivia had promised to marry him. And if she was as honorable as he’d just described, she still would.
* * *
After six endless days in the hospital, with pain and grief her constant companions, Olivia was an empty shell in both body and soul. For the majority of her stay she’d lain with her eyes closed, floating on a tide of pain medication that dulled the ache in her lower abdomen but couldn’t blunt the agony in her heart. With her ability to bear children ripped from her, she shrank from her future. Abandoned by optimism, tears filled her eyes and ran unheeded down her cheeks. Her losses were too much to bear.
On the third day of her incarceration, Libby had smuggled in her favorite chocolate. Olivia had put on a show of courage for her private secretary, but left alone once more, she’d retreated to the dark place where she contemplated what her life had become.
Then, this morning, twenty-four hours before she was scheduled for release, she instructed Libby to bring her files so she could compile a list of all the things she’d committed to in the past month.
“Are you sure you should be taxing yourself with this?” Libby protested, a dozen files clutched to her chest.
Olivia indicated that she wanted the files placed on the rolling tray positioned over her bed. “I’ve got to find something to keep my mind busy, or I’ll go completely mad.”