‘Because you’re a tease.’
‘Yeah? Perhaps. But that doesn’t mean I don’t mean it.’ His hand tightened around her wrist. ‘Your pulse is quickening.’
‘It’s terror,’ she muttered.
‘Liar.’ He grinned.
‘You’re so conceited.’
‘Maybe because you’ve mastered the art of looking at me so adoringly...’ He chuckled as she flicked her wrist free of his hold.
‘Don’t we have to go on this visit now?’ She pushed herself back into work mode.
‘In an hour, yes.’ He leaned closer. ‘That’s just enough time for—’
‘Me to get changed, that’s right.’ She all but ran back to her apartment to where her stylists were waiting.
* * *
‘You’re nervous?’ Alek glanced at her keenly as the car drove them out of the palace gates and through the banks and banks of cameras just over an hour later.
‘Is it really obvious?’ She worried even more and clutched her bag strap tightly.
‘Honestly, I imagine everyone would expect you to be nervous and it’s not a bad thing. People like to see the humanity in others.’ He reached for her hand and shot her that charming smile.
‘They forgive you your sins?’ She tried to answer lightly, but beneath it she was glad of the way he rubbed his thumb back and forth over her tense fingers. It was soothing, like when she counted her breathing. But better.
But bad too. Because she didn’t want him to stop.
‘Nerves aren’t a sin.’ He laughed. ‘They’re normal. Everyone has them.’
‘Even you?’
‘Even me.’ He gave an exaggerated nod. ‘Does it surprise you that I might feel normal things, Hester?’
That sense of danger as those undercurrents of heat and temptation swirled too close to the surface.
‘So this is the paediatric ward visit,’ she confirmed needlessly. Just to remember the job. Just to stop staring at him. Since when was she so seduced by physical beauty? She’d always tried not to judge people based on their appearance—she knew how it felt to be bullied about things.
‘You don’t think it’s cynical to use sick children to sell us as a couple?’ she asked.
‘I think that most of these little guys have a really rough road ahead of them, so why shouldn’t they get a little joy out of this? I’d far rather spend an hour with them than with some of the captains of industry who don’t think I can live up to my father’s legacy.’
‘You think people don’t take you seriously?’
‘I’m just the Playboy Prince, aren’t I?’
‘Wow, I wonder why they have reason to think that?’
‘I know, right?’ He sent her a mocking look. ‘If only they knew I now have a pure and innocent bride to mend me of my disreputable ways...’
‘Very funny.’
Except she was revising her opinion on his reputation. It hadn’t taken long to see that Alek considered his country and his people in almost every decision he made.
It seemed there were thousands waiting behind police-guarded barriers and every one held a camera or phone up. As she passed them she was terribly glad of her long dress and the firmness with which her hair was pinned. Alek released her hand so they could engage with the people in the receiving line and she received a small bouquet from a sweet young girl. She heard a child bellowing and glanced quickly to see a small boy being carried away by a nurse but she maintained her smile and pretended she hadn’t noticed. There was no need to draw attention to someone else’s sensory overload.
Alek compelled attention like a black hole, sucking everyone, everything—all the light—into his vortex and onwards he spun, ever more powerful. But she also felt the people watching her, assessing, judging—she could only hope she passed. After a tour of the ward, they spent some time in the hospital classroom where a few children sat at tables working on drawings. At a table near the back, she could see the small boy who’d been hurried away at their arrival. With the ‘freedom’ to walk around, Hester gravitated towards where he was, subdued and firmly under the control of the teacher standing beside him. Belligerent sadness dimmed his eyes. Hester didn’t make eye contact with the teacher, she just took the empty chair at his table. She drew a piece of paper towards her and selected a pencil to colour in with. The boy paused his own colouring to watch her work then resumed his until they reached for the same emerald pencil.
‘I think it’s a really nice colour,’ she said softly, encouraging the boy to take it.
‘It’s my favourite,’ he muttered.
‘Mine too,’ she whispered with a conspiratorial smile. ‘But don’t tell anyone.’
She glanced up and encountered Alek’s inscrutable gaze. She’d not realised he was nearby.
‘Time for us to leave, Hester,’ he bent and said quietly. ‘But we’ll come back again.’
As they were driven back to the palace he turned in his seat to study her face. She was sure it was only for all those cameras along the route.
‘You did very well. Again,’ he said.
She inclined her head with exaggerated regal poise to accept the compliment.
He suddenly laughed and picked up her hand, playing with the ring on her finger in an intolerably sweet gesture. ‘I mean it. Being able to make someone smile or respond—to make a connection like with that boy who’d been distressed?’ Alek nodded. ‘That was skilled.’
‘Not skilled.’ Hester shook her head. ‘I had no clue. I just tried to give him the time to let him get himself together.’
‘Natural kindness, then.’ Alek ignored the photographers calling outside the car as it slowly cruised through the crowd. ‘You told him your favourite colour. Or was that just a lie to make him feel good?’
She paused. ‘It was the truth.’
‘So you could tell him something you couldn’t tell me?’
She paused, startled by the soft bite in that query. ‘Have I hurt your feelings?’ She tried to deflect him with a smile.
‘Yes.’
She shot him a worried glance. Surely he was joking? He intently watched her—not smiling, not glowering either.
‘I just wanted to be kind to him.’ She drew in a breath. ‘Some people get all the attention, right? The loud ones, or the ones confident enough to smile and call out, and the ones who have the tantrums like him. The ones I feel bad for are the quiet ones—who don’t push forward or act out, who are so busy being good or polite or scared...sometimes they need to know someone has seen them and I didn’t today.’
‘I did,’ he said softly. ‘I went around and saw some of those ones.’
Of course he had—because he’d been doing it all his life. Sharing his attention.
‘Were you one of those kids?’ he asked. ‘One who was being so good she became invisible?’
‘Good but not good enough?’ She wouldn’t have minded being that kid. ‘No, that wasn’t me.’
‘I can’t see you confidently calling out things in front of everyone.’
‘No, not that one either.’
‘Tantrums?’ He lifted an eyebrow and sent her a sideways smile. ‘No? But what else is there?’
In the safety of the car, riding on the success of her morning and the fact the worst of today was now over, she was relaxed enough actually to answer. ‘I was the kid who ran away.’
He watched her. ‘You really mean it.’
‘I really do.’ She drew in a slightly jagged breath, regretting the confession.
‘Did they find you and bring you home again?’
‘They had to,’ she replied lowly. ‘I was young and they had an image to maintain. But that didn’t stop me trying again.’
‘Did you ever succeed in running away for good?’
‘Eventually, yes.’
She wanted to
gaze out of the window. She wanted to end this conversation. But his coal-black eyes were so full of questions that she couldn’t answer and so full of compassion that she didn’t have the strength to pull back from him either.
‘Will you run away if you don’t like it here?’ he asked.
‘No. I’m grown up now and I’ll see this through.’ She made herself smile and clear the intensity. ‘I think it’s more likely that you’ll banish me like your ancestor did his rebel Queen.’
To her relief, he followed her lead and laughed. ‘I have to banish you to her castle. I’ll take you after dinner. It’ll be a dark-windowed car tonight. Tomorrow is the glass carriage.’
‘The fairy-tale element?’