For one long, endless moment he just looked into her eyes, her face, searching for her—finding her.
A little hand was tugging at him. With a lithe, fluid movement Rico jackknifed up to a sitting position.
‘What’s up, Ben?’ he said smilingly.
‘Tio Rico,’ asked Ben speculatively, ‘did you remember to bring the fort we made?’
It took Ben a long time to settle for bed that night. He bounced around in a state of over-excitement, until finally he could fight sleep no more. Carefully, Rico made his way down the narrow, creaking stairs, ducking his head under the low lintel. The door to the kitchen was open, and she was sitting there, a mug of tea in her cupped hands, staring sightlessly.
How long would it take her to believe? he wondered. Believe that he knew exactly what he was doing, regretted nothing. And would never regret.
He walked in, and her eyes flew to him instantly, unswervingly. And he saw in them such a blaze that it took his breath away.
Where had it come from, this love he felt for her? He didn’t know. It had just arrived, that was all. Some time when he wasn’t paying attention. When he was just being with her. With Ben.
My family, he thought. That’s who they are. My wife and my boy. My son. I’ll be the father he couldn’t have. I’ll take care of him. So simple. So easy. It had been no choice at all.
‘Asleep,’ he announced. ‘Finally.’
‘He’s excited,’ she said. While he’d been settling Ben she’d tried to do something with her appearance, he could tell. She’d put some make-up on, styled her hair. She looked good. Not as glossy, not as stunning as she had when she’d gone for the full works, but good. Definitely good.
The strange thing was, he didn’t care.
I love her stunning, I love her plain.
Because I just love—her.
He sat himself down on the table, just by her.
‘There’s still time to change your mind. You could still go back.’
He smiled. It was a strange smile. Filled with humour, with resignation, with understanding.
‘I’m here for good, Lizzy. You’ve just got to accept it.’
‘I can’t. That’s what I can’t do. Rico, it was just a dream—an enchantment. I was Cinderella at the ball, dancing with the Prince. Sleeping Beauty being woken by the Prince’s kiss. Fairytales. That’s all.’
He looked down at her. ‘Has it never occurred to you that the Prince in the fairytale might like a fairytale of his own? One where he gets to quit being a prince all the time? Do you know—’ his voice changed, his expression changed ‘—that you are the only person in my entire life to look at me and see me? Not a prince. Me.’
A look of confusion passed over her face. He gave a rueful smile. ‘You don’t remember, do you? But I do. I stood in this very cottage and told you we had to run from the paparazzi. And you kept saying why? Why did we have to run? Because you hadn’t the faintest idea who I was. Not a clue. You just saw some man bossing you about for no good reason. Not a prince. Not the Playboy Prince. Not the spare Prince to understudy the Crown Prince. Just some man who was trying to boss you about. And even when you knew I was a prince you never really knew how to behave with me, did you? You never called me Highness, or Sir, or anything. The whole royalty thing just…passed you by.’
She still looked troubled, her hands tightening around her mug. ‘It doesn’t matter what I thought. Rico, you’ve been royal all your life—’
‘And much good it’s done me,’ he interrupted her. ‘Listen, Lizzy—I’m a lot like you.’ His eyes were serious, holding hers intently. ‘Like you, all my life I’ve been—unnecessary. Just as you were. To your parents, only your sister was important. To mine, only the heir was important. The spare was just that—spare. Only with Paolo did they ever seem to realise they had a son—not a ruling prince-in-waiting. They lavished on Paolo the love they weren’t able
to lavish on Luca and me. I don’t know what screwed your parents up—because they were screwed up, Lizzy, badly, and they’d done an ace job of screwing you up too, until I got you out of that box they’d nailed you into—but I know what screwed mine up: being royal. I did a lot of thinking when I was put under house arrest by my own father, and it always came back to that. Maybe it’s different for Luca—he has, after all, something to do, something to look forward to doing. But me—well, I never had anything useful to do. I represented my father or Luca from time to time, attended a few Great Council meetings, signed a few state papers when my father was ill and Luca abroad. But I was never really needed.’
He touched the side of her cheek with a finger.
‘You and Ben are the first people that ever needed me,’ he said. ‘Just like Ben was the first person ever to need you, Lizzy. He gave your life meaning and purpose. And that’s what you and he do for me. Give my life meaning and purpose. That’s why,’ he said very softly, his eyes darkening, ‘we belong together.’
She was silent. She couldn’t say anything. But her eyes slipped away from him. In her chest a hard, heavy lump was forming.
‘What is it?’ he asked, in that same quiet voice.
The lump hardened, and speaking over it was painful, impossible. But she made herself do it.
‘You’re offering me a life I can’t accept.’