The Prince's Bride Page 18

  He shook his head. “It was all airports and officials and updating engagement diaries. My friend Jack from Iowa State pointed out to me once that I never said, ‘I’m going home for Christmas.’ I always said, ‘I’m going to San Michele on the 23rd.’”

  She absorbed that. “But your apartment in Liburno. Isn’t that your home these days?”

  “Until we met, I suppose I would have said that it was, yes. But now – no, I don’t think so. It’s more of a den. I don’t invite people there. I’ve never shared it.”

  She looked at him beadily. “You certainly never invited me there.”

  He stopped kneading the packet of coffee in simple amazement. “Is that a joke?”

  “What? No, of course not.”

  Jonas said with a restraint he was proud of, “When I did, you turned me down flat and accused me of having no respect for you or your job.”

  Hope’s eyes widened. “What?”

  His restraint slipped a bit. “I damn nearly begged you to come with me.”

  She jumped up, agitated, and began to prowl about the room. “Oh, that’s awful. I just thought you were being high-handed.”

  He watched her. “Do you want to know something really crazy? It didn’t feel right being there on my own. I really missed you.”

  She shook her head, still agitated. “I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”

  “In fact, I promised myself I’d tell you everything when I came back. Ask you to stay on in San Michele when your job with the Antons ended.” He hesitated, not sure whether this was the right time. But then it surged out of him anyway. “Maybe live with me, if you could face the gossip.”

  She gave a low cry, as if she’d burned herself. “We need to talk,” she hissed, still striding. “Stupid, stupid, stupid!”

  Jonas was confused. “You’ve lost me.”

  Hope rounded on him. Her eyes glittered. “You sent me a text. We need to talk.”

  She sounded furious. That confused him even more. “Did I?”

  “Yes, you did. Why did you think I was so crazy that night at dinner?”

  He spread his hands, looking a question.

  “Because of that text.”

  “Huh?”

  “It’s the classic this-is-only-a-holiday-fling text. I thought you were signing me off.”

  Jonas winced. It sounded really ugly. And then he thought back to that evening. Her explosion. The profound closeness of those moments on the bridge. The night that followed.

  And he wasn’t confused any more. “No you didn’t,” he said positively. “Not after that night.”

  That stopped her. She rounded on him and for a second he thought she was going to flame him. But then her shoulders fell and she blinked rapidly.

  “Maybe,” she said distantly. “But the whole of that day. Waiting for the axe to fall. It shook me. It really shook me.”

  She turned her back and fumbled with the catch to the great windows that led out onto roof terrace. Her shoulders were shaking.

  Jonas wondered for a horrible moment whether it was with silent laughter at the cruel irony of the misunderstanding. But then he looked more closely and realized that it was a sort of dreadful silent sobbing that Hope didn’t want him to see.

  He followed her. She was standing under the shade of one of the tubbed birch trees. She didn’t turn round.

  Jonas said quietly, “I knew I was falling in love with you from the day we met.”

  She just shook her head, not turning to face him.

  He stepped out onto the terrace but didn’t touch her. “Sometimes I thought you were too. I was never sure. But after that night I thought the only problem was how busy you were with the Antons’ child.”

  “It didn’t occur to you to tell me who you were, though, did it?” She swung round, glaring at him. “Be honest with me.”

  It was so unexpected, that he spoke without thinking. “Oh for heaven’s sake are we back on the prince thing again? How many times do I have to say it? I never lied to you.”

  “That is such a lawyer’s answer,” she said with contempt.

  “What the hell do you mean by that?”

  “Remember the evidence oath?” she taunted him. “The truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth? You may not have resorted to out-and-out falsehood. But you sure as hell never told me the whole truth.”

  He flung up his hands in a despairing gesture. “What can I say? When I saw you at the chateau, I couldn’t believe my luck. If you’d just listened to me instead of racing off round those statues and disappearing –”

  Hope took a hasty step forward. “Don’t you patronize me,” she yelled. “What good would it have done to listen to you? I didn’t have a lie detector in my purse.”

  She was close enough to slap his face. Close enough to kiss. Jonas held on to his sanity with heroic resolution. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound patronizing.”

  “Well, you did. Thoroughly princely, in fact.”

  He saw that she was being nasty in pure self-defence. All desire to defend himself evaporated. “That’s a low blow. And I probably deserve it. I’m sorry, love.”

  “Don’t you dare be nice to me.”

  “I only meant that I could have explained.”

  “Explained? I don’t think so. Can you deny that there was a moment when you knew you ought to tell me you were a San Michele prince and you decided not to?”

  He opened his mouth to deny it. Then he remembered that split-second decision in the forest. She’d just apologized handsomely for being grumpy, and she was starting to tease him and he couldn’t bear to spoil it.

  “See, you can’t.” She didn’t sound triumphant. All the fight seemed to have gone out of her. He wanted to hug her so badly it hurt.

  “I’d forgotten,” he said at last.

  “Even at the time I knew there was something.” She sounded sad. “I’ve developed these very good antennae for half truths over the years. But I didn’t want to believe it. So I decided to trust you. It’s always a mistake to ignore my instincts.”

  It found its mark like a stiletto. Jonas recoiled.

  He was silent for a long time. At last he said, “In mitigation, my bossy sister-in-law had just been parading me in front of a bunch of film people. She had me all dressed up like a Major General, sword, uniform and all. Making everyone call me Serene Highness. It was vile. When we met, I remember thinking thank God there are no Serene Highnesses in the forest.”

  She didn’t laugh. Didn’t even smile. Jonas couldn’t blame her. She’d decided to trust him and she’d made the wrong call. He was never coming back from that.

  “But you’re right. I admit it. I made a choice. The wrong one.”

  Hope made a helpless gesture. “I’m sorry too.”

  She went back indoors and he watched helplessly as she searched for her shoulder bag. When she found it, she turned, with that polite social smile that he dreaded and said, “Thank you for all your help this weekend. It was kind of you.”

  He couldn’t bear it. He said, “Marry me.”

  He might as well have threatened her with a lightsabre. Hope sent him one appalled look and fled.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Hope walked home. She was too wired to sit in a bus or even a taxi.

  I knew I was falling in love with you from the day we met.

  How could she believe him? He’d never said anything about love.

  She made herself a meal but then couldn’t face eating. After a mouthful or two it went in the bin.

  “I’m missing Moby,” she said aloud. And started to laugh. It sounded more like crying.

  She thought of calling Ally. But Ally had her own problems and hadn’t been in touch for weeks. Besides, Ally already thought Hope and Jonas had unfinished business. She’d just tell Hope to deal with it.

  She went to bed. Didn’t sleep. Tried reading, TV, radio, nothing worked. By dawn her face in the bathroom mirror was haggard. Her mother would have said she was bottling th
ings up and needed to break something.

  Hope smiled reluctantly. Good thinking, Mama.

  Only she couldn’t break someone else’s china. And if she wanted to scream, she’d better go home and find a quiet corner of the grounds at Hasebury Hall where no one would hear.

  She was looking up the timetable on her phone when a text came through. It was from Jonas. Her heart lurched. She nearly deleted it unopened. But her mother’s words echoed. “Sticking your head in the sand never works, darling.”

  It read: I still have your bags. Can I bring them round? He had sent it five minutes ago. Outside it was barely light. Had his night been as sleepless as hers, then?

  Before she could talk herself out of it, she texted back: Yes. Come now. Though she hadn’t a clue what she was going to say to him.

  He looked rough, with shadows like bruises under his eyes. Hope’s heart went out to him.

  “You need your forest badly.”

  He put down her overnight case and the other bags. “You’re looking pretty ragged yourself. Bad night?”

  “Yup.”

  He closed his eyes briefly. “Look, I’m sorry. I never meant to unload all that stuff on you yesterday.”

  There it was again. I knew I was falling in love with you from the day we met.

  Hope swallowed. “Did you mean it?”

  “Oh yes.”

  Not just the words, his whole body said it was true. She couldn’t not believe him when he looked like that. It was like a punch to the gut. Hope sat down hard.

  She felt horrible, sitting on the edge of the seat, twisting her hands, as she struggled to find words to explain something she didn’t understand herself.

  She said haltingly, “When we met, my first instinct was to walk away.”

  “I remember.”

  “But I wanted to see you again, do you see? So I ignored my instinct. Only it was right, wasn’t it?”

  Jonas sank down slowly onto the sofa opposite. Hope couldn’t look at him. But she knew his eyes didn’t leave her face.

  “If I’d googled you or something sensible like that, I’d have found out everything right then.” The self-mockery was bitter. “But I was determined to trust, for once in my life. And then, at the chateau, when I found out the truth about you, I thought: serves me right.”

  There was a long silence. Then Jonas said carefully, “And now?”

  She pushed her hands through her hair. “I seem to have two sets of instincts and they’re at war.”

  Hope was shaking with cold, though the morning sun was warm on her shoulders. She wished Jonas would put his arms round her and hold her close. But she knew that, if he tried to, she would push him away and not kindly.

  “I think I’m going crazy,” she muttered. She clutched her arms round herself and tried to still the trembling.

  Eventually Jonas said, “May I suggest something?”

  Hope nodded, not looking at him. “Go ahead.”

  “When we got together you were in a new job in a new country and I was on holiday from my normal life. Agreed?”

  “Yes.”

  “So we didn’t do most of the normal dating things people do when they’re getting to know one another. So my suggestion is: we do that now.”

  She looked at him then. “We date?”

  “Why not? We even both have relatively normal jobs at the moment.”

  She saw an objection at once. “But you work during all week and I have to work every weekend.”

  “Couples on shift work manage it. So can we.”

  She was still doubtful. “It would feel awkward.”

  “Yes, probably. We’d get over it.” And when she still looked sceptical he said, “At least it would give us a chance.”

  He sounded desperate, Hope thought.

  She opened her mouth to say that it was hopeless. That she couldn’t trust him again. But her heart whispered to her and she stumbled.

  Unfinished business.

  She said, “Then you’ll have to come on the wedding assignments with me. There’s no way I can moonlight as a lawyer.”

  And at last he smiled. “It’s a deal.”

  It was a busy summer – for both of them.

  Jonas had to travel all over the world for work but he was at her side for at least some part of nearly every weekend wedding. He didn’t make it to midweek ones, but he always texted to wish her luck and called to find out how it had gone.

  She thought: this is going to work.

  He gave her sweet, silly presents and took her took her to his old haunts in Cambridge and London. Once he sent her flowers, out of the blue, for no reason except that he wanted to say he loved her.

  Sometimes Hope felt as if she had been transported to an alternative universe where nothing was quite real. She kept expecting to wake up.

  She told him so, laughing. “You should write the Perfect Boyfriend’s Handbook.”

  But he shook his head, serious. “I’m still learning.”

  Their sexual attraction simmered, tacitly acknowledged but never quite brought into the light. Jonas drove her home, kissed her goodnight and scrupulously left her at the front steps to her house.

  Once, under the influence of a long slow dance under the stars on his terrace, Hope kissed him with all the old passion. He caught his breath and his hands grew urgent. But almost at once the old doubts started whispering. In spite of herself, she tensed.

  At once he let her go and put distance between them.

  “Too soon,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

  She denied it ferociously. But the moment had passed.

  Jonas killed the music, brought her a glass of wine and persuaded her to sit on the sofa again, while he took himself off to a bamboo chair. They talked a little and, when she finished her wine, he took her home.

  When he stopped the car outside her house, he said in a strained voice, “Hope, I really want to make love to you. But I won’t until and unless you trust me. And neither of us can force it.”

  That night the kiss was a gentle brush of the lips against her cheek. Perversely, she could have jumped his bones, given the slightest encouragement. She tossed and turned all night, frustrated and confused.

  But the next day, Jonas was himself again, practical and attentive. Sexy as hell.

  Unattainable.

  Except that he wasn’t unattainable, was he? All she had to do was learn to trust him. But how?

  As summer turned into autumn, Hope lurched from one extreme to the other. Jonas remained steady, a rock during the frequent wedding crises, kind and funny always. But that slight distance he had set between them didn’t diminish.

  Hope missed their former closeness and knew she had only herself to blame.

  Then, at the younger generation’s party after a sedate suburban wedding, the DJ failed to turn up and Jonas had turned out to be an inspired substitute. When the party finally wound to a close, there was a roar of approval. Jonas grinned and bowed like a pro. Hope wanted to give him a congratulatory hug so much that it was a physical pain.

  Under cover of the cheering, Cindy said, “Hope, are you exploiting that young man?”

  Hope was startled. “What do you mean?”

  Cindy said carefully, “Hope dear, it’s clear that something’s wrong. I know a relationship with royalty is never easy. But you can’t just keep him on a string. It isn’t fair.”

  It was a shock. “I’m not. Am I? I mean – I never meant to.”

  Cindy nodded. “I understand. Things happen and then you find you’ve fallen into a pattern and you can’t get out of it. But, there’s only so many times you can push someone away, sweetie. I’ve done it.”

  Hope was silenced. She put her arm round her aunt.

  Cindy’s back was ramrod straight but her shoulders softened a little at the embrace. She opened her eyes very wide and didn’t take them off the departing dancers at their farewells.

  “You’re a sensible young woman,” she said at last. “Much more matur
e than I was at your age. And brave, too. Now you just need to be brave about this relationship and make up your mind.” She patted Hope’s arm. “I have faith in you.”

  Hope helped with the clearing up but with only half her mind engaged.

  Be brave.

  Was it as simple as that? Just make up her mind, like deciding which country to visit, and go for it?

  And then it struck her. Maybe it wasn’t Jonas that she couldn’t bring herself to trust. Maybe it was herself.

  Jonas drove her back, as always. The roads were nearly empty. It was nearly dawn by the time they reached London. Hope sat beside him watching the attention he paid to the road, not letting the lack of traffic distract him. Relaxed, yet alert. Yes, that was Jonas. You felt he was competent to deal with anything without being a control freak or wanting to run the world.

  She said slowly, “I know you really well, don’t I?”

  He sent her a swift, startled look. But all he said was, “Yes, I believe so.”

  Later, when they came to the point where he should turn off to drive her flat, he said, “Are you tired?”

  “No.” Because she wasn’t. She was beyond tired and had reached a state of Zen acceptance. Oddly, it felt both peaceful and wildly exciting.

  “Then come to breakfast. We can drink champagne on the terrace and watch the sunrise.”

  Ah.

  The moment of decision. Not this very minute, but heading towards her, inexorable as that sunrise.

  And I’m ready. Bring it on.

  “Yes,” she said.

  But when they arrived Jonas surprised her. “Time may be running out on us, sweetheart. There was a question about you and me at the press round-up meeting on Friday.”

  Hope stared. “What press round-up meeting?”

  “My sister-in-law has started a weekly meet-the-press gig.” It didn’t sound as if he was a fan. “Carlo texted me. One of the local journalists asked about a rumour that I was seeing someone in London.”

  “Local? You mean in San Michele?”

  “Yes, but the international circuit of royalty watchers will pick it up now. I’m sorry.”

  Hope was puzzled. “How is it your fault?”

  His mouth twisted. “Being a prince.”