He couldn’t help but feel a wave of sadness as he spoke about his mother. To everyone else she had been the Queen. But to an only child with an almost absent father his mother had been his whole world.
She’d kept him grounded. She’d made sure he attended the local school and the local nursery. She’d sent him shopping for bread at the bakers and meat at the delicatessen. Everything he’d learned about being a ‘normal’ person he’d learned from his mother.
His father had aged twenty years after she’d died. Still working, still ruling his country, but his heart hadn’t been in it.
The relationship between father and son had always been strained. And it hadn’t improved with age or with his father’s ill health.
Ruby had little lines across her forehead now. Even when she frowned she still looked good. He felt a surge of emotion towards her.
He didn’t talk to anyone about his mother. In years gone by he had spoken to Sophia, but that had been like talking to a friend. Ruby hadn’t known his mother. She would only have whatever had been posted on the internet to refer to.
It felt good to share. She made it so easy to talk.
With her legs stretched out in front of her, sipping champagne from the glass, she looked right at home. But he knew she wasn’t.
She might be comfortable around him, but she wasn’t comfortable around the palace. The formalities of palace life were difficult for her.
She didn’t ask or expect anyone to do things for her. Rufus had already mentioned how she’d ruffled some feathers by trying to do her own laundry or make her own toast.
‘What about your family?’
She smiled. ‘My mum and dad are both just about to retire. They’ve already told me they plan to move to the South of France. They bought a house there last month. They’ve holidayed there for the last ten years and have really got into the way of life.’
‘Have they ever been to Euronia?’
She rolled her eyes and took another sip of champagne, holding the glass up towards him. ‘Only billionaires come to Euronia, Alex.’
He was instantly defensive. ‘That’s not true. There are cruise ships moored every day in port, and we have bus tours that come across the border from France—’
‘Alex.’
She leaned over and touched his arm. The palm of her hand was cool from holding the champagne glass.
‘I was teasing.’
The smile reached right up into her eyes and he wrapped his hand over hers.
‘Sometimes I’m just not sure.’ He stayed exactly where he was. His eyes fixed on hers.
She wasn’t shy. She didn’t tear her gaze away. Her lips were turned upwards, but as he looked at her more closely her smile seemed a little sad.
‘What do you think would have happened between us, Ruby?’
He didn’t need to fill in the blanks. She knew exactly what he was talking about. He saw her take a careful breath in.
‘I have no idea, Alex,’ she whispered. ‘Sometimes I’ve thought about it—thought about what might have happened if things had been different. But neither of us know. Neither of us can really imagine. Ten years changes a person. I’m not the girl I was in Paris, and you’re not the boy.’
He nodded his head and grinned at her. ‘You thought I was a boy?’
Now he was teasing. But she was right. They could spend hours talking about what might have been but it wouldn’t do either of them any good. He’d spent too long thinking that Ruby had slipped through his fingers.
But she was right here. Right now.
He ran his palm along her arm. ‘I thought about you, Ruby. I thought about you a lot. When you didn’t reply to the message I left you I just assumed you’d changed your mind.’ He met her gaze again, ‘Or that you’d seen the news and didn’t want any part of it.’
‘Oh, Alex...’ She lifted her hand and stroked her fingers through her hair. Her head shook slowly. ‘I never got your message, Alex. And once I realised who you were I assumed you didn’t want to know me—plain old Ruby Wetherspoon. You were a prince, for goodness’ sake—with a whole country to look after. I didn’t think you’d even remember me.’
He reached up and touched her cheek. ‘You have no idea at all. And you’ve never been plain old Ruby to me.’
‘The flowers... They were from you—weren’t they?’
He nodded. ‘I didn’t want to interfere in your life. But then there came a time when it wasn’t appropriate to send them any more.’ His chest tightened as he said the words.
He didn’t need to go into detail.
He’d always harboured hopes about Ruby. But once he’d known he had to make a commitment to Sophia it had become inappropriate to keep sending flowers to another woman. Alex would never have done something like that.
‘I guess now I’m free to send you flowers again,’ he said quietly.
‘I guess you are.’
She gave him a little smile and set down her glass. The yacht was moving around the coastline, dancing along in the waves—just as they were dancing around each other.
‘Why did you ask me to come, Alex? Why did you want me here?’
There it was again. That tiny tremble in her voice. He loved the fact that she was fearless. That she was courageous enough to ask the question out loud.
Ruby wasn’t bound by a country. Ruby wasn’t bound by two whole nations hoping she’d be able to keep them financially stable. Ruby didn’t have to bite her tongue to prevent international incidents with foreign diplomats. Ruby had her own life—her own responsibilities. Could he really be honest? Was he willing to expose her to the world he lived in?
It was time to take a risk.
‘I didn’t just ask you here for Annabelle, Ruby. I need your help with my daughter. That much is clear.’ He reached over and took her hand. ‘But I asked you here for me too.’
She bit her lip. He could tell she was trying not to interrupt, but she just couldn’t help it.
‘But what does that mean, Alex? I need you to say it out loud.’
She was drawing a line in the sand. And she was right.
He knew she was right.
He met her gaze and touched her cheek. ‘I want us to have a chance, Ruby Wetherspoon. I’m not your everyday guy, and what I have isn’t your everyday job. I’d like to see where this can take us, but I understand the pressure of being here and being with me. I don’t want to expose you to anything before you’re ready.’
She shook her head. ‘Not enough. Who am I, Alex? Am I Ruby Wetherspoon, speech and language therapist for your daughter? Am I Ruby Wetherspoon the hired help who might catch your eye? Or am I Ruby Wetherspoon the girl you might decide to date?’
She stood up and walked across the deck, held on to the railing, looking out over the sea.
‘You touch me, Alex. You kiss me. You bring me out on day trips that make my brain spin. What are you doing, Alex? What are we doing?’
He stood up to join her, and then slowed his movements as he neared. He didn’t want to stand next to her. So he did what was the most natural thing in the world. He stood behind her, his full body against hers, with his arms wrapped around her waist, sheltering her from the sea winds.
He lifted his hand and caught her hair that was blowing in the breeze. ‘Ruby, you can be whatever you want to be. But be warned: being around Alex de Castellane isn’t easy. If you want to be the woman I date, that’s fine. If you want to do that in public or private, that’s fine with me too.’
He moved closer to her, whispering in her ear, nuzzling her.
‘I lost you once, Ruby. I don’t intend to lose you again. But I’ll take your lead on this.’
He held his hands out towards the cliffs and the view of Euronia.
‘The world out there can be hard. I want to give this a chance. I want to see where this will take us. I’d love to be able to walk down the street with you without everyone whispering—but that will never happen. I’m public property, Ruby. The world owns me. I don’t want it to own you too. At least not until we’re both sure about what we want.’
She turned herself towards him, tears glistening in her eyes.
He lowered his hands and wrapped them around her waist. ‘What do you say, Ruby? Are you willing to give us a try?’
She wrapped her arms around his neck and stood on her tiptoes, whispering in his ear. ‘I think I might need a little extra persuasion.’
‘What kind of persuasion?’ He liked the thought of where this might go.
‘I might have questions. Conditions.’
He was surprised. ‘Okay...’ he said slowly. ‘Like what?’
This time the expression on her face was a little bit cheeky, a little bit naughty. ‘If we start dating do I get to look in all the palace rooms that are currently out of bounds to me?’
‘That’s what you want to know?’ He couldn’t help but smile.
‘I also want to check for secret passages and dungeons.’
He nodded solemnly. ‘That might be difficult. I’ll have to see what I can do.’
‘Can I slide down the banister?’
‘That might be taking things a bit far.’
She shrugged. ‘It’ll save the staff from polishing.’
He nodded. ‘True.’ And then he sighed. ‘I wish I’d thought of that explanation twenty years ago. You could have got me out of a whole heap of trouble.’
She stood up and whispered in his ear again. ‘How about painting the palace a brighter shade of pink? Doesn’t every girl want to live in a pink palace?’
He laughed. ‘You don’t think it’s pink enough already? It might be every girl’s dream but guess what? It’s not every teenage boy’s. I told you—I hated living in a pink palace.’
She shook her head. ‘Silly boy. You just don’t know what you had.’
He stopped smiling and touched her cheek. ‘But I do now.’
She bit her lower lip again. He couldn’t help but fixate on it. They weren’t entirely alone on this boat. But right now he didn’t care. It seemed as if he’d been waiting for this moment for ever.
He bent forward and captured her lips against his. She met him hungrily, pushing herself against him and letting her fingers gently stroke the back of his neck. The sensation shot directly down his spine and into his groin.
He pulled back. There was a whole host of things running through his mind right now. But none was as important as being here with Ruby.
He grabbed her hand and pulled her inside.
‘There are seven staff on this boat. They would never disturb us, but things aren’t exactly private here. If we’re going to see where this takes us we have to agree what you’re comfortable with.’
She looked a little unsure. But her face was flushed and her hands were touching his waist—almost as if she didn’t want to let go.
He glanced down at them and gave a laugh. ‘Careful, Ruby. You’ve no idea where my brain’s currently taking us.’
He opened the door and pulled her along a narrow corridor,
‘I’ve made plans for us today. Let’s cool off. There are some swimsuits inside this room along here. We’ll anchor the boat, do a little swimming, and then have some dinner.’ He stopped outside the door of one of the rooms and hesitated. ‘It’ll give you time to think.’
He was aware that she hadn’t said anything—was terrified that he might have frightened her off. Ruby probably hadn’t considered the real consequences of being involved with a prince and he’d just laid them all bare to her.
He’d lived with press intrusion all his life. But in his world it was slightly easier for men than women. When the heir to the throne in the United Kingdom had got married his new wife had been constantly under the glare of the spotlight. Even now every outfit she wore, every friend she spoke to, even the appointments in her diary were scrutinised continuously.
Euronia might not be the UK, but it was a hotspot for the rich and famous. The press were always lurking somewhere in the background. He was surprised no one had commented on Ruby’s presence before now. She must have slipped under the radar as a member of staff. But that wouldn’t last much longer.
Her smile faltered. ‘Alex, what if we’re making a mistake? What if we’re both caught in the memory of ten years ago and what we’ve imagined and reality is totally different?’ She looked up through heavy eyelids. ‘We might not even like each other.’
His stomach twisted. It was true. It was a fair comment. But it went against his gut. It went against how he truly felt.
He didn’t know Ruby that well. Someone, somewhere in the palace would have a report on her—they had one on every staff member. And his security staff would have the report from ten years ago on the woman he’d been with when they’d found him at the café in Paris. Someone would know which schools she’d attended in England, what the occupations of her mum and dad were, if she had any political affiliations.
But he didn’t want to find out from a bit of paper. He wanted to find out in real time—with Ruby.
So he did what his gut told him to do. He leaned forward and brushed a kiss against her cheek. ‘Then let’s find out.’
* * *
She stepped inside and closed the door behind her, instantly feeling the coolness of the air-conditioned room. Her cheek burned from where he’d kissed her.
Kissed her—and left her. Walking down the corridor, leaving her to fixate on his backside and broad shoulders. She felt like someone from a bad movie.
Her stomach was turning over and over. ‘Let’s find out.’
She’d waited ten years to find out. Ten years of secret thoughts and wild imagination. Did this mean anything between them was destined to fail?
She picked up her mobile and pressed the quick call button. She’d never needed to talk to someone so badly.
‘Polly? Are you free? Can you talk?’
‘Ruby? Where on earth have you been? I tried to call you three times yesterday. Are you coming home?’
‘No. Not yet. And maybe...’
‘Maybe what?’ Polly got straight to the point. ‘What’s happening with you and Prince Perfect?’
Ruby sighed and leaned against the wall. ‘He just kissed me, Polly. He kissed me and I didn’t want him to stop.’
‘Oh, no. Don’t start all this dreamy kissing stuff again. Does this guy have stars and rainbows in his lips? One kiss and you go all squishy.’
She smiled. It was true. Trust Polly just to come out with it. ‘I’m worried, Pol. He’s told me he wants to give us a chance. He’s asked me if I’m willing.’
‘Willing to what? Flounce off into the sunset on matching unicorns? What exactly does he need you to be willing for?’
‘To give us a go. To see where this takes us.’ She started to slide down the wall. ‘But I can’t think straight, Pol. I’m just Ruby. I’m not a princess. I’m not a supermodel. How can I possibly live up to the expectations he has? I don’t even know what fork to pick up at dinner.’
‘Ruby Wetherspoon, you listen to me. This isn’t about his expectations. This is about yours. You don’t need to be a princess or a supermodel. You’re better than both. He is lucky to have met you. He’s lucky you agreed to go and help with his daughter. This isn’t about you being good enough for him. The question is: is Prince Perfect good enough for you?’
Trust Polly. She could always boost her confidence and make her feel better. It was like having her own professional cheerleader and piranha all in one. But whilst she loved what Polly was saying, she just wasn’t sure she believed it.
Polly hadn’t finished talking. ‘And as for the forks—just start on the outside and work your way in. Never fails.’
Ruby was shaking her head. ‘I like him, Polly. I really like him. But this is a whole other country. There’s so many people watching me. So many people watching him.’
‘He’s a prince, Ruby. What do you want?’
She sighed. ‘I want to do normal things. I want to get to know him better. I want the chance to go out and have a glass of wine with him. I want to go to the cinema and fight about who is the best action hero or the best Star Trek captain—’
‘Picard.’ Polly cut her off quickly. ‘It’s always Picard.’
Ruby heard the squeak of furniture as Polly obviously sat down.
‘I hate to break it to you, honey, but going for a glass of wine and heading to the multiplex is probably a no-no. Anyway—doesn’t Alex have a whole cinema in the palace?’
‘Probably. I don’t know. I just can’t think straight around him, Pol. He walks in a room and my whole body—it just tingles.’ She gave a little shake as she said the words.
‘Oh, no. No tingling. Definitely no tingling.’
‘People here—they’re different. The way they treat Alex. The way they treat me when I’m with Alex...’
Her voice drifted off as her train of thought started to take her down the railway line to mild panic.
‘His mother spoke four languages. I can’t do that. I know nothing about politics. Or history. Or modern studies. I only got a passing grade in geography because I memorised stuff about eroding coastlines.’
‘What exactly do you think you’re auditioning for here, Rubes? You’re a speech and language therapist—an expert in your field. You’ve published professional papers. You work at one of the finest hospitals in London. Why do you think you’re not good enough for him?’
She started shaking her head. ‘It’s not that I think I’m not good enough. I’m just worried. Alex wants to give us a chance—I want to give us a chance—but what about the rest of the world?’
‘Hang the rest of the world, Ruby. This is your life. Not theirs.’ Polly groaned. ‘You know I want you back here with me. But ten years, Ruby. Ten years you waited for this guy to come back into your life. You can’t let what anyone else thinks matter.’
Ruby straightened up. Polly was right. Alex was right. He was just trying to prepare her. Trying to let her understand that things might be difficult.
But Alex de Castellane wanted her—Ruby Wetherspoon. It had to mean something.
She walked over to the other side of the cabin. ‘Oh, Pol. He’s bought me clothes.’
‘Again? What is he—a personal shopper or a prince?’
She lifted up a scrap of material from the bed and squinted at it—trying to imagine what it covered. ‘Well, they’re not clothes, exactly. More like tiny bits of cloth. I think they’re supposed to be for swimming.’ She started to laugh and shake her head as she moved her phone to snap a picture and send it to Polly. ‘What on earth is that supposed to cover?’
There were five different styles of swimming costume on the bed, along with a whole host of scraps doing their best impression of itsy-bitsy teeny-weeny bikinis. She picked up the first and checked the label. At least they were her size—but there was no way she was wearing one in front of Alex. Not right now anyway.
There was a screech at the other end of the phone as Polly got the photo. She started howling with laughter. ‘Gotta go, honey—the baby’s crying. But, please—if you wear that you’ve got to send me a photo!’
Ruby smiled as the call was disconnected. She always felt better after talking to Polly. But Polly’s life had moved on. They were still best friends. But Polly had a husband and a baby. She’d found her happy-ever-after. What about Ruby’s?
She picked up a red swimsuit, slightly padded with a ruched front. Perfect. Something that actually covered the parts it should. It only took two minutes to put it on, and she grabbed a sheer black sarong to knot around her waist.
It was time to get out there.
Let’s find out.
* * *
Alex was doing his best impression of a male model in white trunks. She gulped. She was going to have to avert her eyes. Either that or put a sign on her head saying that if she looked at that area it would make her knees go weak.
He was waiting for her out on deck and he led her around to the back of the yacht this time. Again there were some seats, but Alex had also laid down towels on a flat area overhanging the edge. There was no ladder down the side. This flat part seemed to have been designed purely for getting in and out of the sea.
She sat down on a white towel and blushed as she noticed his appreciative gaze. ‘What do you normally use this for?’
‘Diving. I used to do a lot of diving with friends. Nothing too spectacular. Just for fun. So when I commissioned the yacht I knew I wanted a diving platform attached.’
‘You commissioned the yacht? You didn’t just buy it from a catalogue? Just how rich are you, Alex?’
She was laughing as she said the words and turned to dip her toes in the water. Even though the sun was blistering hot the sea was cold.
‘Youch!’
She pulled her feet back in as Alex laughed. ‘Here.’ He tossed her some sunscreen. ‘Put some of this on or you’ll burn your nose.’
It was easy to forget how hot the sun was with the sea breezes around them. She smeared some sunscreen on her face, arms and legs, then stood behind him, poised to put some cream on his back.
But he grabbed her arm and pulled her into his lap. ‘I’ve already got some. You, however, need some on your back. Give me that.’
He squirted some cream on his hands and started to rub it over her back. She was almost scared to move. Her position was precarious. They were right at the edge of the moored boat and she was balancing on his knees. Right now there were only two very thin pieces of fabric separating them. Her right arm was pressing against his bare chest, the dark curling hairs tickling her skin.
His hand movements slowed, going from initially brisk and efficient to sensual, circling her back, slipping under the straps on her shoulders and smearing cream across every part of her skin. She breathed in sharply and his hand circled lower, fingertips sweeping below her swimsuit.
His voice was husky, his accent thicker. ‘You didn’t like the bikinis?’
‘I didn’t like me in the bikinis.’
‘Why ever not?’ His fingers slowed and stopped, staying just underneath the back of her costume. ‘You’re a beautiful woman, Ruby.’
She felt her cheeks flush, instantly embarrassed by his words—which was ironic, really, since she was sitting half clothed in his lap. Could anyone see them, sitting here on the back of his yacht? In front of her all she could see was the Mediterranean Sea. There wasn’t even another boat in sight.
His hand moved gently around her waist, touching the fabric of her costume and resting next to the knot of her sarong. ‘This is definitely your colour. You suit red, Ruby. It seems as though your mother named you well.’
‘My mother named me after the ruby slippers in The Wizard of Oz. But I’ll tell her you appreciate her choice,’ she teased.
This was too much. She was sitting here, feeling the rise and fall of his chest next to her arm, the warmth between his skin and hers. Their faces were inches apart. Not touching him properly was torture.
She moved that little inch, putting her hand at the back of his head and tugging him closer until their lips touched. His fingers started tugging at the knot on her sarong. It fell apart easily.
The kiss quickly intensified. She could easily tell the effect their close contact was having on his body—just as it was having an effect on hers. Kissing him was too easy.
They weren’t in Paris any more. It wasn’t New Year’s Eve. But she could almost hear the fireworks going off in her head.
The sun wasn’t heating her skin any more—Alex was. Every nibble, every tiny touch of his tongue electrified her. She let out a little moan as their kiss deepened, his hands running up and down the bare skin on her back.
‘Ruby...’ he muttered.
‘What?’ She didn’t want him to stop. She didn’t want this moment to end.
‘We’re out in the open. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but...’ His voice tailed off.
She was still kissing him, never wanting it to end.
A few minutes ago the sea had seemed deserted. But other boats had passed them on their journey around the coastline. And the crew might not come down here, but if she didn’t stop this now...she might live to regret it.
