‘Are you feeling better today?’ he asked. They hadn’t had breakfast together. She’d slept late and he hadn’t wanted to wake her. But as she’d entered the car he’d seen the dark smudges under her eyes, ever present, which told a story all of its own.
‘Yes, thank you.’ She glanced at him only briefly, before looking out of the window again. ‘Where are we going?’
He’d told her it was a surprise, and the look on his face when he had suggested that she didn’t much enjoy surprises. Sure, he could have taken her to his mansion in the fashionable area around Lake Morenberg. The type of grand home any wealthy Lauritanian must own, yet a place where he rarely stayed. Instead, he brought her to where he’d grown up. A simple farmer’s cottage on land that his family had owned for generations. If there was any place for simple pleasures in Lise’s life, then the cottage was the venue to indulge them.
‘The first home I lived in.’ The home his great-grandfather built for his great-grandmother. Where his father was born. Where Carl... He tamped down the blunt ache of his brother’s loss, an ever-present bruise. Those feelings left him vulnerable. Never again would he let that wound be picked open. ‘My grandparents gifted it to my parents on their engagement. It’s quiet. I thought you might enjoy a break away from the city.’
Plus, there was the sense of freedom these wild places instilled. He hoped she’d find that freedom again, to be herself.
To let go.
His pulse throbbed at the thought of her in any kind of abandon, not holding back. Body arched in the throes of passion, his possession. He would get that from her. Claim it when offered, keep it all for himself. Lise looked at him then, and he chanced taking his eyes from the road for a moment, only seeing an innocence in her he knew would turn to caution if she’d ever guessed what he was thinking.
‘That’s...kind of you.’
Not so kind, when having her in his bed was the end game. Breaking the promises she’d deluded herself into believing he’d made when they’d reached their agreement about this marriage. So long as he could convince her that it was all her idea, his plans would succeed. For in this place, there was no escape. The house was small and the space intimate. Perfect for a honeymoon if togetherness was what you were searching for. He wasn’t sure she’d thank him when she saw it.
‘We have a stop on the way first.’
They passed the turn-off to his home, and drove further, winding through green pastures dotted with the occasional cow, to a copse of trees. He pulled off the road and parked at the gravel verge. The black SUV of Security stopped well back, but he’d made it clear that they weren’t to follow them into the forest. More protesting. He’d ignored it. Lise needed to forget about being Queen. He saw these small steps as one way. But of greater importance, and what her security team didn’t realise, was that he’d care for her better than they ever could. This washisland,hishome. He’d ruled these mountains, been King here, even before Lauritania’s crown had been placed on his head.
Rafe left the car and opened her door. The trepidation on Lise’s face was easy to read.
‘What are we doing?’
He rounded to the boot and retrieved a small bucket and knife as she watched, chewing on her bottom lip, a slight crease forming between her brows. Looking beautifully perplexed.
‘Foraging for mushrooms.’ Rafe smiled at her as they walked into the leafy verge. Here he breathed deeply of the cool autumn air tinged with the crisp scent of nature. Time slowed. He could travel all over the world, stay in any of the expansive properties he owned, but only here was home. With Lise by his side, it felt more right than it ever had, the realisation a startling one. ‘Have you ever been?’
She shook her head. ‘It would have required me to get dirty, and that would never do.’
‘No making mud pies as a child, then?’
‘Now you’re being silly.’ But she gave him the tiniest of smiles nonetheless, which he took as a win.
‘I’m all for giving you new experiences. Mushroom picking comes first. Mud pies come later.’
Lise laughed, and the glorious ring of it sang through the trees. He hadn’t heard that sound since the times they’d strolled the palace gardens together before her family had ruined it all.
He craved to hear her laughter again and again, with him the cause of that happiness.
‘There’s a stream where Carl and I used to play as children and come home filthy carrying frogs and moss. Be careful or we’ll go there next.’
‘Who’s Carl?’
He’d forgotten himself, mentioning his brother’s name. Another revelation, that he could lose himself with her, which was a vulnerability he could never afford. Lise was ignorant of the knowledge and the memory he protected, since the pain of Carl’s loss had been wielded as a weapon against him in the past, by those richer and more powerful.
He’d never allow that to happen again. Anyhow, there was no one richer and more powerful in Lauritania than himself. Not any more. But uttering his brother’s name had been a slip he never made. The only time Carl was mentioned was in the safe haven of family, or with Lance when they’d drunk too much whisky and were intent on reminiscence.
‘Rafe?’ She wanted her answer. He wouldn’t lie to her, but he couldn’t respond so forged ahead a little too fast up an incline, deeper into the shade. It was steeper here and Lise didn’t really have the shoes for it, pretty little things made for palace halls, not forest floors. She lost her footing and slipped on the leaf litter. He took her hand and steadied her. The slightest tug and she came into his arms easily. The soft press of her body against his as she splayed her hot palms on his chest.
The gleam in her cornflower-blue eyes as he held her told him she was far from indifferent. He ached at the magical feel of her in his arms. Her breaths high and fast. Pupils dilated. He should kiss her here, under the canopy as the breeze skittered through the ochre leaves above them. But he wanted to be somewhere where they could take things to a natural conclusion. In the forest was not that place. Though with a blanket and a picnic...
He wasn’t sure where all these romantic notions sprang from.
Lise slid from his grasp, wiped her palms on her skirt as if trying to wipe the remains of him away. Something small and painful scraped inside him as she did.
‘Do you know what we’re looking for?’ Her question about Carl forgotten in a moment where he knew she was as affected by their proximity as he’d been. And he could smile at the change of subject because what he truly searched for was here. Standing in front of him looking beautiful and uncertain.