As you are.He stretched out a hand and ran his finger along the base of her beautiful neck, feeling the delicate notch between her collarbones.
She leaned into his touch, letting him feel her vulnerability and her vitality. ‘I mean it.’
‘I know you do.’ His chest ached. ‘Then let’s just be.’
No pressure. No expectation. No. It was impossible. And there was no point in talking. It wasn’t going to change anything. It was only wasting the precious little time they had left. Only making him feel unsettled.
He kissed her, desperately seeking the mindlessness of physical pleasure. Only it wasn’t mindless. There was still thought. Still feeling that went so much deeper than skin on skin. She offered something that couldn’t co-exist in his world—a fantasy that could never be real. His country was in his blood. Work was everything and was utterly inextricable from who he was. What he was was who he was. There was no separating the royal from the man. The duty from the body. But he would never be able to come down here again without thinking of her. Without remembering her silken heat. Without reliving this—the last time they’d made love.
She was shaking but he was too. Both were desperate to go fast, to go slow, to conquer time. They would go back inside the palace. He’d get into his robes and she would leave for good. But right now the emotion in her eyes? He couldn’t stand seeing the emotion in her eyes.
‘Stop thinking,’ he ordered. ‘Stop feeling sorry for me.’
Stop feeling anything for me.Suddenly—too late—he realised just what a mistake he’d made.
‘How do I do that?’ Elsie asked brokenly, torn apart by the sensual, emotional onslaught.
How could she possibly stop thinking? How could she hide her heartbreak knowing, breathing...this was the last time she would hold him? How could she convey everything she was feeling?
It was only so intense because it was the last time, right? She tried to rationalise the ache in her heart. It couldn’t happen again.
But it wasn’t that. It was more.
Only she couldn’t tell him. He’d just told her not to. He wouldn’t accept it. And he was far more vulnerable than she ever could’ve imagined. His father had left him. So had his mother. While his grandfather pressed the weight of a nation’s future onto his shoulders—and then became an additional burden on Felipe himself.
He growled, frustration evident in the lines bracketing his mouth, in the tension in his limbs. They kissed with such longing. So close there was no room left any more for thought. Only feeling. Only letting him in—so deeply, intensely, her heart soared. If there was only this, this was complete. She wrapped around him. She never wanted him to let her go. She never wanted to let him go.
There was no more talking. Then there was no more time.
Silently he stood and held his hand out to help her up. The robe he fetched was huge on her and clearly his.
He wrapped a towel around his waist and rubbed his forehead. ‘Elsie—’
‘I need you to get me to my room,’ she muttered.
‘I’ll get you there but you can’t leave the palace yet.’ He shot her an apologetic look. ‘Media crews are already in place. You’ll be driven out in the convoy of the other VIPS and dignitaries. Ortiz will get you to the airport safely.’
Her throat was growing tighter and tighter. ‘Do I have to scale that cliff?’
‘There’s a secret passageway from here.’
She silently followed him through a long narrow corridor until he paused at a doorway.
‘Go through, yours is the second on the left. I’ll stay in here.’
This was it. Would he give her a goodbye kiss as he moved from one stage of his life to the next?
No. He remained standing at a distance, stared at her hard, resolute.
If he asked she would stay. Here. Hidden. His. She would stay in this secret part of the palace. She would do anything for him. Always.
But he didn’t ask. And she didn’t ask either. Neither said goodbye. She couldn’t make a sound. She took the step and heard the door close behind her. And then she realised what she’d done.
She’d left him. Just like everyone else.