Shy Queen in the Royal Spotlight

‘So now you run the stud.’ She looked across the grounds. ‘And that was the other way of handling it—building on her legacy. Keeping something that she loved very much alive.’

He swallowed, unable to reply.

‘And you freed Fiorella from that royal burden.’

‘Of course I did.’ He could breathe again. ‘That was easy. She didn’t need to be stuck in Triscari the same as...’

‘The same as you.’

‘It’s just fate.’ He shrugged. ‘An accident of birth. I just have to do the best I can.’

‘Do you worry about your ability to do the job?’ She stared at him. ‘Seriously?’

‘What, you have dibs on feeling insecure?’ He half chuckled. ‘Of course I worry I won’t be good enough. Being the firstborn Prince means you’re going to end up King. It’s a full-time job that starts from the moment you’re born and it takes up every minute. I’m not saying that to summon your sympathy. I know how privileged I am and I want to do what’s right for my country.’

‘And you do. They love you. They ask for your thoughts all the time and they trust your answers. Everyone loves you. Everyone knows you do what’s best for the country because you care. And as long as you keep caring, then you’ll do what’s right for Triscari. You’re not selfish, Alek.’ She paused. ‘You’ve given your life for duty.’

He shot her a look. ‘I thought I was a rapscallion playboy.’

‘Maybe you were when you could snatch a second to yourself, but mostly you’ve done the job forced upon you. And the job you wanted to do for your mother.’ Hester realised he couldn’t separate his role as Prince from his self. It was a career like no other—too enmeshed with his very existence and it brought with it a kind of pressure she’d not stopped to consider. ‘You’re building on your father’s legacy too, by being a good king. But you’re more important than just your crown, you know—’

‘I know,’ he interrupted and reached out to stroke her hair back from her face. ‘Don’t worry too much, my ego is perfectly healthy.’

She actually wasn’t so sure about that. ‘But it’s isolating, isn’t it?’ she said passionately. ‘Living with grief.’

His eyes widened. ‘I’m not—’

‘Yes, you are. For your mother. For the life you’re never going to be able to have.’

And somehow in the course of this conversation her own loneliness had been unlocked. ‘I grieve for the life I might’ve had if the accident hadn’t happened,’ she confided in an unstoppable swirl of honesty. ‘I was at the library, happily reading and waiting for them to pick me up. They never did and I never got to go home again. I was taken to the police station and after a few hours my uncle arrived and took me. Five hours of flight time later I landed in a place I didn’t know, to meet people who didn’t want me.’

Alek just stared at her, and this time his eyes were so full of care and compassion and she wanted to share with him—because it wasn’t all awful. She’d been so lucky in so many ways.

‘My parents were a runaway love match.’ She smiled impishly, delighting in the romance they’d had. ‘He was the second youngest, destined to uphold their place in society, right? His family were snobs. My mother was new to town, moved into the wrong suburb...she totally wasn’t from the right background. They met at school and it was true, young love. But when she got pregnant his family came down so hard and they ran away—living transiently, working seasonal jobs, barely keeping themselves housed and fed, fighting hard to stay afloat and keep me with them. But they did it. They loved each other and they loved me. They decided they couldn’t afford more so there was just me and...not going to lie, Alek...’ she smiled cheekily at him ‘... I was spoiled too.’

‘Oh, sweetheart,’ he said huskily. ‘I’m so glad to hear that.’

‘Yeah, we had nothing but we had everything, you know? And we certainly never visited his home town. So after the accident when I turned up, all that old bitterness was still real. I didn’t fit in—I looked more like my mother than my father. I had her vixen eyes. I was part of who and what stole him away and that made me bad. But they were determined to “do the right thing”. Except they had nothing good to say about my mum and they went on about my father’s selfishness and weakness. I couldn’t tell them how wonderful they really were—they didn’t want to listen and they never would’ve believed me. In the end the only way to get through it was to lock my grief away, shut it down.’ She shook her head. ‘I put everything into my studies, hoping that would lead to a way out, and eventually it did, but only once I got to university and by then... I was good at keeping others at a distance. I put the treasures into my box and I’d go for long walks.’

‘Walks? That was your way to feel good?’ He half laughed.

‘Sure. Mostly...’ She smiled more ruefully this time. ‘But a couple of times I ran.’

‘You shouldn’t think running away is something to be ashamed of. Or that it’s cowardly.’

‘Isn’t it though? Shouldn’t I have stood up for myself or fought harder to be heard?’

‘How were you supposed to do that when there were a tonne of them and only one of you?’ He shook his head. ‘I think what you did was actually more brave. Escaping that abuse, and going out on your own. Lots of people wouldn’t have the courage or the skills to be able to do that without support.’

Alek hadn’t known it was possible to feel supremely content and disconcerted at the same time. He was both assuaged and unsatisfied. Most of all he was confused. This was not the way he’d envisaged this evening going. He’d thought they’d have been in bed hours ago—that he’d have stripped her and satisfied them both several times already. Instead they’d shared something far more intimate than if they’d spent hours having simultaneous orgasms.

And somehow he couldn’t stop speaking. ‘Tell me more,’ he asked. ‘What were their names?’

To his immense relief she answered—and asked questions of her own. He shared old anecdotes he hadn’t realised he’d even remembered. Making her laugh over silly, small things that were too personal to keep back. As the stars emerged he leaned back lower on the sofa, curling her closer into his side—soft and gentle and warm and appallingly tired and still talking.

Yet the discomfort was still there. All kinds of aches weighed down his limbs as he discovered that an old hurt he’d forgotten had only been buried. It had taken so little to lift it to the surface. He wanted to resist—to pull free again. Drowsily he gazed across the fields. He’d go riding as soon as it was light. He needed to feel that liberation—the complete freedom as the wind whipped and knocked the breath from his lungs, racing faster than he could ever run, jumping high enough to feel as if he were flying for the briefest of seconds. Yes. He needed that escape. He needed to ride—hard and fast and free.

CHAPTER TEN

‘HESTER.’

Hester blinked drowsily. ‘Mmm...?’

‘Are you awake?’

Her vision focused. Alek was in the doorway, fully dressed and looking vitally handsome in slim-fit black jeans and a black shirt and gleaming black boots.

‘What time is it?’ She coughed the question because her insides had turned to jelly.

‘Mid-morning.’ He leaned against the doorframe and shot her a lazy smile.

Hester gaped—she’d slept like the dead. She didn’t even remember coming to bed or if he’d even been in this bed with her. Disappointment struck. So much for thinking he might want her again or that he’d intended this to be a real honeymoon. She glanced at the table to avoid his eyes. Her box sat in the centre of it and she knew he’d put it there for her to see first thing so she wouldn’t fret about it.

‘I wondered if you’d like to ride with me,’ he said.

‘On a horse?’ The question slipped out before she thought better of it and her heart hollowed out the second she realised the implicatio

n of what she’d said.

‘Uh...’ He looked diverted but then his smile flashed back. ‘Yes. A horse.’

‘Um...’ She paused, prevaricating while she tried to think of...anything. Ideally a reason or excuse to say no. But her brain was failing her. She’d not wanted anything from anyone in so long and it was safest that way but now she felt heat and confusion and awkwardness and that fear.

‘Are you afraid to try something in case you’re not good at it?’ He tilted sideways to take up residence against the doorframe in that gorgeous way of his.

She gave up on any pretence and just let the truth slip out. ‘No. I’m afraid of everything.’

And what she was most afraid of was that what had happened between them wasn’t going to happen again. When they’d talked last night she’d felt as if they’d crossed into another level—her heart had ached for what he’d been through. In opening up with him she’d thought they’d forged even more of a connection than the fireworks of their physical compatibility the night before. She’d developed faith in him and every one of her barriers had fallen. She’d relaxed so much in his company that she’d actually fallen asleep on him in the middle of a conversation. She’d never been that relaxed with anyone, ever.

‘I don’t believe that,’ Alek challenged. ‘Not for a second.’

‘It’s true.’

‘Then you’re even braver than I already believed.’ He cocked his head. ‘Because you do it anyway. Even terrified, you get on with what’s necessary.’

She willed her brain to work so she could push back her own weakness. ‘Yes, but fortunately I don’t consider sitting on a massive animal as necessary, Alek.’

‘But it’s so much fun,’ he goaded with that irresistible grin. ‘Come on, Hester, it’s just another little adventure and we adventure quite well together, don’t you think?’

She gazed at him, sunk already. She couldn’t say no to him. She’d never been able to. Not the day he’d made his convenient proposal to her. And not now. ‘I’ll come watch you.’

‘Oh?’ Triumph lit his eyes. ‘See you down there in five.’

She pulled on jeans and a tee. Downstairs she picked up a pastry from the platter that was on the table and headed out to the beautiful yard. To her relief there was no one there other than Alek. She took one look at the two enormous horses saddled and tethered behind him and almost choked on her chunk of croissant.

‘Uh... I’m really not sure.’ She shook her head.

‘Bess is very old, very gentle,’ he assured her, gently patting the chestnut horse.