Shivering not just from cold, but from deepening heartache. She turned to hide it and climbed the curling stairs into the perfect pool tucked at the back of the cave. The warm water soothed her sensitive skin. She studied the beautiful veined patterns on the ancient marble tiles as the chandelier cast a golden glow in the gloomy space. The bubbling of the endless spring echoed softly against the rocky walls. She knew the islands cradled a wealth of natural resources but this was pure magic.
She glanced over and saw he was watching her with a softly wicked smile.
‘Do you like my torture chamber, my darling?’ he teased.
Like it? She never wanted to leave it. But she couldn’t admit that. ‘It’s not bad, though I think you’ve wrecked the vibe with those kettle-bell weights.’
Felipe chuckled and pulled her towards him. ‘Down here no one can hear you scream.’
But she couldn’t scream because he was kissing her. And when he kissed her, time stopped. She never wanted him to stop kissing her.
Somehow they were out of that pool. She lay in a tumble of soft cushions and he massaged her with the oil and she was thankful he’d brought protection in his swim shorts. The scent of cedar and sandalwood and bay filled her—earthy and fresh and heated. Afterwards, warmth from the heated stone rose through the rug where she lay sleepily. But through the rocky fissure masking the cave’s entrance she saw the glimpse of sky lighten and the sea begin to sparkle.
Time threatened. ‘Thank you for sharing your secret place with me,’ she said.
She was beautiful, lying on his rug, gleaming in the golden light. Felipe wanted to demand she stay for ever. His secret treat, hidden down here for always. But that was impossible and he couldn’t stop time any more than he could stop that thermal spring or those waves hitting the cliffs.
‘You’re frowning.’ She smoothed his forehead. ‘Are you nervous for the coronation?’
He shook his head. ‘I’m used to it.’
‘But this is really big.’
‘Are you trying to make me nervous?’ He laughed.
But she turned those eyes on him. ‘Don’t you ever wish you could just get in a boat and head out of here?’
‘Disappear in the middle of the night?’ He glanced to that gap where he could see the sea. ‘No. I would never do that to Silvabon. Not after my father.’
The truth of his abdication was a long-kept secret but now his father and grandfather were gone. There was no need to protect them any more. Felipe was tired of protecting them. ‘We woke up one morning and he was missing. That’s why my security chief is so paranoid now. He missed my father’s escape. Grandfather was apoplectic that he could’ve left without anyone knowing.’
‘You mean he literally ran away? Like, “escaped the dungeon” sort of ran away?’
Felipe nodded. ‘He left a two-line apology on a piece of palace paper. He didn’t want to be stuck here. Both Grandfather and my mother knew he was restless, it wasn’t a complete surprise to them—only that he got out with such secrecy and skill.’
‘Was it a surprise to you?’
He stilled. ‘I knew they weren’t happy. I didn’t know about her.’
‘Amalia’s mother?’
‘She was a musician at a club in town. A single woman with a baby. You can imagine how that went down with my grandfather. And the media made it so much worse. They ignored her talent, belittling her as a trampy showgirl. She was vilified. As was my mother—the frigid wife who couldn’t satisfy her husband. They’re always particularly harsh on women. I don’t want that for Amalia. Or anyone.’
‘Where’s Amalia’s father?’
‘Long gone. Apparently he didn’t want to be a dad and left before she was born.’
‘So Amalia understands what it’s like to be abandoned too.’
Felipe’s heart puckered at the realisation. ‘Yeah, I guess she does.’
He had more in common with his stepsister than he’d ever have imagined.
Elsie nodded. ‘I didn’t know your father just disappeared.’
‘My grandfather kept the story quiet while he tried to bully him into coming home.’ He sighed. ‘But that didn’t work. My father had got far enough away to make his escape complete. And when everyone found out? The news cycle fed off it for months—demanding answers that were never given. They still bring it up regularly.’
‘And your mother?’