Читать книгу Taming the Lost Prince - Raye Morgan - Страница 9

MAX’S reaction came a beat too late. Kayla knew he’d had a quick second to think before he let his natural instincts take over. What was he thinking in that flash of time? What was he feeling? His crystal-blue eyes didn’t show a thing. But that tiny hesitation did.

“Teddy,” he said, sounding pretty normal. “You named him after Eddie, huh? Great.”

He licked his upper lip quickly, then smiled and reached out to give her a one-armed hug. “Kayla, I’m so glad you have a piece of Eddie to hold on to. That is very cool.”

He was looking right into her eyes now, seeming completely sincere. “I can hardly wait to meet him.”

Glancing down, she realized, to her horror, that her fingers were trembling. Quickly, she shoved them under the hem of her sweatshirt.

“How about you?” she said, a little breathless. “I guess you’re not married.”

“Married!” His laugh was short and humorless. “You know me better than that.”

“If Pellea has her way, you soon will be.”

His deep, painful groan made her smile.

“Did you meet anyone interesting at the ball?”

“That wasn’t all the ball was about, was it?” His groan was louder this time. “Oh, lord, do you think she’s going to have more of them?”

“Of course. You have to marry someone. The others are all paired up already. Pellea wants to get you settled as well.”

His sigh was heartfelt as he leaned wearily across the little counter. “Why don’t you marry me? Then we can forget all about this nonsense and just be happy.”

She looked away. The very suggestion sent something skittering through her like sparks from fireworks and she took a quick, gasping little breath, trying to suppress the feeling.

Marrying Max—what a concept. Luckily, that would never happen, not even for the sake of convenience. There was no way Max could ever take care of her and her baby. It wouldn’t work. She’d been out in the world with him and she probably knew him better than she knew any other man, other than her husband. Max was born to be a bachelor.

Even Eddie had said so. “Max will never get married,” he’d told her when she tried to have a go at a little matchmaking at one point. “He’s like those animals that die in captivity. They can’t be tamed. They can’t even be gentled. Leave Max alone. He’ll just break their hearts. And yours, too.’”

Eddie was right, as usual. Max was not a man to hang your heart on. She shook her head and got up the nerve to meet his gaze again. “Sorry, Max. You’re going to have to walk that lonesome valley on your own.”

His mouth twisted with a bit of pretended chagrin, but he wasn’t really thinking about what she’d said. His gaze was skimming over her face, searching in her eyes, looking for something in the set of her lips. She wasn’t sure what he expected to see, but it was disturbing, and she turned away, heading back to the living room.

She could feel him watching her, as though his gaze were burning a brand into her back. She forced herself not to look, and finally he came after her and sank onto the couch.

“Come and sit down by me,” he said.

His voice was low and there was a new element in it … something different, something mysterious. She felt wary and her pulse stuttered and then began to move a bit faster. There was a sense of being a bit off-kilter. Somehow, the room seemed warmer. A new tension quivered in the air. Every time her eyes met his, the tension seemed thicker, more insistent, like a drumbeat beginning to make itself heard across a rain-forest jungle.

She took a deep breath and held it for a moment, trying to calm herself. They were just friends, but she worried that he might be edging toward something more. She couldn’t let that happen. Not again.

“Come on,” he coaxed. He wasn’t smiling but his gaze was warm. Almost smoldering.

She shook her head and dropped back into the chair. “No. I think I’ll stay here.”

“What’s the matter?” he asked her.

She licked her dry lips. “I think we need to keep a demilitarized zone between us,” she said, trying to sound casual and friendly at the same time.

His eyebrows shot up. “What are you talking about?”

She took a deep breath. How to begin?

“I’m serious, Max. I don’t think we ought to be close. You’re moving into a whole different sphere of life. I don’t belong there. Let’s not start anything that will have to be …” She shrugged, not sure she wanted to put it into words.

His bright gaze clouded and he appeared bewildered by what she’d said. “But you seem a part of this castle stuff and I’m just a beginner,” he pointed out. “What are you talking about with this ‘different sphere’ business?”

She wondered for just a moment if he were really that naive about the class structure in their society. Ambria had always been a remote, self-absorbed little kingdom. Islands tended to breed peculiarities in animals and people if they were cut off from the mainstream for too long. Now that the monarchy had taken back control, after a twenty-five-year exile, and some of the old customs and rituals were being revived.

Royalty was royalty. It was special. That was all part of establishing authority and building back the old foundations. They were meant to be set apart from the common Ambrian. That was just the way it had to be.

“I’m an employee,” she told him cheerfully. “You’re a prince. Never the twain shall meet.”

He made a face as though he thought that was complete tripe, but he would accept her judgment for the moment.

“We can still be friends, can’t we? We can still talk.”

“Sure.”

He frowned. “I’m counting on you for that, you know.”

That was just the problem. “Max …”

He took in a deep breath. “Here’s the deal, Kayla. I don’t know what I’m doing here.” His gaze was hard now, insistent, and yet at the same time, completely vulnerable. “I don’t know if I can stand too much of this prince stuff. It’s not me.”

“Oh.” A flash close to pain went through her. He thought he couldn’t do this. And yet, how could she be surprised? This was exactly what she would have expected if anyone had asked her. But that didn’t mean she could let him go down this road without a struggle. He had to see how important it was.

“I’m willing to give it a go. For now. But I’m not feeling too confident. Most of my life has been lived on the other side of the divide. I don’t know if I can adapt.”

“Of course you can.” She wished she could find the words she needed to get through to him. “Max, you were meant to be a prince from the beginning. Don’t you see? The part where you lived on the streets was the mistake.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” He winced, then went on softly, his eyes looking dark and luminous, his voice barely hiding the years of uncertainty he’d lived through.

“Sometimes I think I never got a family because I didn’t deserve one. I was a misfit. A pretty bad misfit. And maybe I didn’t ever get that kind of family love because …” He looked up and met her gaze. “Because I’m just unlovable.”

She gasped. He wasn’t joking. His expression was serious, questioning. Now she had to stop herself from going to him, from sliding down beside him and pushing away his pain with her arms. And at the same time, everything in her wanted to do it.

“Max! How can you say that? Women adore you!”

He stared at her for a moment, then gave a half laugh, half grunt. “That’s not love, Kayla. That’s something else.”

Her head went back in surprise. Who would have believed Max would be the one to see the difference so clearly? But still, he seemed to be utterly blind to his own strengths. He was always so carefree and debonair. She’d never known he had this insecurity at his core. She had to make him see how wrong it was.

“Oh, come on. What did we used to call you? Mr. Casanova. A new girl on your arm every night.”

His sigh was full of regrets. “You see, that’s just it.” He took a long drink from his beer and stared into space. “Lots of new girls. No true love.”

It was hard to believe that a man this appealing, this attractive, thought he couldn’t find his soul mate. She looked at him, so handsome, so adorable. Her fingers ached to run through that thick auburn hair. It took all her will to stay where she was.

“Haven’t you ever been in love?” she asked him.

“Not really.” He squinted at her, thinking it over. “I don’t think so. Not like you and Eddie.” His smile was crooked. “I used to watch you two together and I think I hated you almost as much as I loved you.”

“Oh, Max …”

“You know what I mean. It was pure jealousy. You two were so good together, so … so devoted.” His voice broke on the word and she had to close her eyes and bite her lip to keep from going to him.

Devoted. Yes, that was exactly the way it had been. When she’d found Eddie, she couldn’t believe her luck. They’d met in an elevator in their apartment building in Paris. As they traveled up the floors, people got off, but the two of them remained, until they were alone and looking at each other tentatively across the empty car. Their eyes met. Love at first sight. And when they finally got to her floor, he admitted his had been four stops before. How could she not invite him in for a cup of coffee? Two months later, they were married.

When he’d died, she had thought life was over. She moved in a dark, menacing fog, blindly searching for some way out of the pain, not really believing it was possible. For days, she was obsessed, thinking of ways to join him. And then she realized she had someone else to think about.

“Do you remember …?” Max’s voice choked.

She stiffened. Here it came. She had to keep a cool front. Still, she had to tell the truth, at least as far as it was safe.

“I remember too much,” she said softly.

“Me, too.” He finished off his beer and looked at her. “I think about Eddie every day.”

She nodded, closing her eyes. “Me, too.”

She wasn’t going to cry. She had to hold it back. For a moment, she let herself recall the way it had been being married to Eddie. Sunshine every day. Champagne for breakfast. Walks on the beach and dancing barefoot to a reggae tune. Driving with the top down. Love in the afternoon. Eddie was the best. The very best.