The Crown Prince's Bride (Royal Duology 2)

But then, this was Raoul. He thought about all his decisions and weighed the options. It wasn’t in his nature to throw caution to the wind.

Which also meant that he made a conscious decision to come out here tonight. And that meant something, too.

“You have never been careless with me, Raoul.”

The warm breeze ruffled the tendrils of her hair that had escaped the pins, and she hooked a piece with a finger and pulled it away from her mouth. His chest rose and fell rapidly, as if he were still catching his breath. She reached up and pulled on the end of his bowtie, and it unraveled in her hand. Then she undid the top button of his shirt and wet her lips at the simple sight of the hollow of his throat. There was something about a man in formal wear loosening up and looking a little rumpled.

“I was careless, once. On my birthday.”

“No, you weren’t. Drunk, yes.” She smiled a little. “Careless, no.”

He sighed deeply. “I don’t know what to do anymore, Steph. I don’t know what I want. I don’t know if I’m afraid or dead inside. And I don’t know how to figure it out, when everyone analyzes every single thing I do. Like they have to watch each action to make sure I’m not going to break. That I’m . . . hell. Moving on with my life on a family-approved calendar.”

“You can’t really grieve on anyone else’s schedule,” she answered, though it hurt. Deep down she wished he didn’t have to grieve anymore at all. That’d he’d be at the point where he’d be ready to move forward without reservation. But neither would she lie. There was more than attraction between them. There were years and years of friendship.

A round of laughter echoed through the terrace doors, and they both turned toward the sound. The party was still going on, but she had no desire to rejoin it. Even though she really should, and so should Raoul. She would rather stay out here and feel the breeze and smell the sea and flowers and look at the stars and pretend that royal duty and the familial microscope didn’t exist.

“What happens now?” she asked, then shivered. The air cooled at night, and her shoulders were bare. Raoul noticed and tucked her into his arms. She closed her eyes and soaked in the sensation. They could never embrace like this anywhere else. Maybe never again.

“I wish I could tell you. Feeling like this, about you . . . it’s damned inconvenient. You’re my assistant. You’re close to the family. There are deeper ties than if you were some stranger or something. I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want a bunch of questions and well-intentioned advice.”

“You want privacy.”

He nodded; she felt the movement against her hair. “I do. I’ll be honest with you, Steph. I meant what I said about marrying again. The idea scares me to death. I’m in no position to make any promises. And I especially don’t want to string you along and give you hope for something that might not happen.”

Tears stung the backs of her eyes, but she said nothing.

“All that is in opposition to the attraction I’m feeling right now. I didn’t lie when I said I wanted you. Kissing you and holding you . . . that’s the most alive I’ve felt in a very, very long time.”

The words sat on her tongue. The ones telling him that she’d cared for him for such a long time, that he was her ideal and she wanted him, too. But she didn’t say them. It was sure to send him running in the other direction, erasing any chance they might have. The last thing he needed was for her to declare her undying love when he was so unsure.

And despite her earlier determination to remove herself from the situation, she knew she would always regret not giving this a chance, even if it was a slim one. To get this close and then walk away . . . no. She worked in a world of risk assessments and calculated moves. Right now she was doing her own risk assessment and she knew that she had to at least give this a shot. The possible reward was worth it, wasn’t it?

Music started up again, a slow song that she recognized. Raoul adjusted his embrace until they were in a dance hold again, only this time she was pressed tightly against his body rather than the respectable distance they’d maintained in public. She sighed, happy and yet burdened with the knowledge that something this amazing had to be so complicated.

Their feet shuffled along the textured surface of the terrace, the music quiet behind them. Raoul kissed her hair. “Are we going to be all right?” he asked, a thread of worry darkening his voice. “I wish I could give you assurances. I wish . . .” His jaw tightened against her temple.

“I don’t want assurances right now,” she admitted honestly. “I wouldn’t believe

them if you gave them to me. I’d prefer the honesty, even if it’s difficult and painful. Raoul, if you weren’t so conflicted I wouldn’t care about you so much. It shows the kind of man you are. It shows your heart.” She put her palm against his chest, feeling the strong beat there. “You loved Ceci as beautifully as any man could love a woman. It takes time to get over that. I have my own reservations too, you know.” She looked up, moved her feet in the shuffle-circle even though they weren’t really focusing on dancing anymore.

“You do?”

“Of course I do. Surely you know now that this attraction isn’t one-sided. But Ceci was my cousin. There are times I wonder if I’m betraying her by caring for you in that way.”

“Of course you’re not. Nothing happened until Ceci had been gone for months.”

Stephani didn’t answer, but stared at his shoulder instead.

“Unless . . .” His feet stopped moving and he tipped a finger beneath her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Unless you’ve felt this way since before that night.”

“I can’t answer that. Don’t make me.”

He stepped back a little. “While we were married?”

“Yes. No.” She put a hand over her eyes, trying to sort her thoughts. “Raoul, you were married. I would never have said or done anything to come between you and Ceci. You loved each other perfectly, you see? I didn’t want to care about you so much. I just . . .” She chanced a look up at him, but his face was unreadable. “I worked for you. I saw the kind of man you were every day. I knew when you were happy and when you were worried and when you were hurting. I saw how you loved her and the children and . . . I don’t want to say that I thought you were perfect, because you’re not. No one is. But feelings are feelings, and I’ve had them for you for a long time.”

“I see.”