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Bella laughed again. “I love it. It’s everything I thought it would be,” she said.
“What if there’s not a hopping club scene? Will you still love it then?” he asked. Bella liked to party. Hell, they all did. They hadn’t been raised to assume the throne. They were all more likely to show up in the tabloids in a compromising position than on the society pages at a formal tea. The closer he got to the throne the less sure he was that he wanted to be there.
He felt Bella’s hand on his shoulder. “You’re going to be fine. I think you’ll make a great king.”
“Why? I’m not sure at all.”
“You’ve been a great big brother and always ensured our family’s place in business and in society.”
“Business is easy. I understand that world,” Rafe countered.
“I never thought the day would come when you’d admit that you aren’t sure of yourself,” she said, taking her phone from her handbag.
“What are you doing?”
“Texting Gabe that you have feet of clay.”
“He already knows that.”
“We all do,” Bella said. “Why are you acting like you are just figuring it out?”
“I’m going to be a king, Bella. It’s making me nutty,” he said.
“You weren’t as thrown by it a week ago,” she said. “What happened yesterday to make you delay your flight?”
Nothing.
Everything.
Something that could change the man he was. If he let it.
“Business. Running Montoro Enterprises does take a lot of time,” he said.
The car pulled to a stop and an attendant in full livery came to open the door for them. Bella climbed out first but looked back at Rafe.
“Lying to me is one thing. You can keep your secrets if you want to,” she said. “But I hope you aren’t lying to yourself.”
He followed her out of the car, and the warm Mediterranean air swept around him. She had a point. He knew in his gut that this didn’t feel right. He should be in Miami with Emily. He missed her.
The porte-cochere led to an inner brick-lined courtyard. There was a fountain underneath a statue of Rafe’s great-grandfather Rafael I. He was surprised it hadn’t been torn down when the dictator had taken over. Bella stopped walking and spun around on her heel, taking in the beauty of the palace.
For the first time he felt a sense of his royal lineage settling over him. If their family hadn’t been forced to flee he would have grown up in this palace. His memories would be of this place that smelled wonderfully of jasmine and lavender. Where was the scent coming from?
His father came up beside him and put his hand on his shoulder not saying a word. Something passed between them. An emotion that Rafe didn’t want to define. But Alma became real to him. In a way that it hadn’t been before. In Miami it had been easy to say he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be king but seeing this palace—he felt the history. And he sort of understood Juan Carlos’s perspective for once. Rafe didn’t want to let down their family line.
If Alma wanted the Montoros back on the throne than Rafe would have to put aside the feelings he felt stirring for Emily and figure out how to be their king.
That surprised him. He hadn’t expected to feel this torn. He was isolated from the rest of his family who seemed to think this return to royalty was just the thing they needed. They were all caught up in being back in the homeland. But as much as he felt swept up in the majesty of their return to Alma he knew he was still trying to figure out where home really was.
* * *
Emily worked the closing shift at Harry’s and walked home at 2:00 a.m. Key West wasn’t like the mean streets of Miami, but she moved quickly and kept her eyes open for danger. It was something she’d teach her kid.
She was starting to find her bearings with this pregnancy more and more as each day passed. Being a mom was going to take some getting used to, but as her own mom had said, she had nine months to make the adjustment.
Her cell phone vibrated in the pocket of her jeans and she reached back to pull it out. Glancing at the screen, she saw it was an international call. She only knew one person who was traveling internationally right now. She did some quick math and figured out that it was early morning in Alma.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Red. Figured you’d be getting off work. Please tell me I didn’t wake you.” Sure enough, it was Rafe.
“You’d think you’d be more careful about disturbing a pregnant woman’s rest,” she teased. She didn’t want to admit it but she’d missed him. Three days. That was all it had been since she’d seen him, but it had felt like a lifetime. His voice was deep and resonated in her ear, making her feel warm all over.
