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Bella laughed. “You’re not that evil.”
“Imp, you think it’s funny having someone come after you because of your position? Wait until the princess royal or whatever title they decide on for you has to make a good marriage.”
“Don’t even joke about that, Rafe. I’m too young and pretty to be tied down to a man.” She batted her eyelashes.
He hugged her close. “Damned straight. Besides, only one of us should be shackled by this monarchy thing. I’ll do what’s needed to protect you, Gabe and the rest of our family.”
“Don’t sacrifice yourself for us. We’re stronger than you think we are.”
“I know that. But I want you both to be happy.”
* * *
Emily’s shift was long. Her feet hurt and she felt as if she was going to be sick until she stepped outside into the balmy June air. It was only eleven—so not that late—as she walked through the crowds toward her cottage.
She had been looking forward to chatting with Rafe all evening. But once again she’d seen him on the local news on one of the televisions at the bar. He was with a blonde woman and she hoped like hell that it was just for publicity purposes. But a part of her realized that she had no hold on the king of Alma.
But that Rafe was different from the man who she spoke on the phone with and she hadn’t asked about the woman because she really didn’t want to hear that his obligation to his family might force him to marry someone else.
The US press, especially the local Miami reporters, loved anything to do with royalty and since the Montoros were raised in America, the media were obsessed with them. It seemed she didn’t have to try too hard to find out about Rafael, Gabriel and Bella. She learned about the private schools they’d gone to and had seen Rafe’s college roommate on CNN talking about how the Montoros were all about family.
She got it. As far as the media were concerned Rafe was going to make a great king. It had been a long time since an American had claimed a foreign throne, and despite the fact that most patriots were all about democracy they did like a fairy-tale story like this now and then.
She rubbed the back of her neck as she let herself into her house. She kicked off her Vans and left the lights off as she walked to her bedroom. She’d wanted him all day. Looked forward to the time when she could be alone and talk to him, and now she wasn’t sure.
She wasn’t sure how much more of Rafe she could take before he became so embedded in her soul that she wouldn’t be able to survive without him.
She was sure part of it was the hormones from being pregnant with his baby. The other part was that she’d never had this kind of interaction with a guy. They talked every day. Most of her boyfriends had been busy with their own lives and had called only when they were horny or lonely.
Which had suited her.
She’d never wanted anything solid and lasting until now.
Until Rafe. And he wasn’t available for her to claim.
Her phone rang. She glanced down at the Skype icon and knew that it was Rafe doing what she’d asked: calling her for a video chat this time.
She missed him. She didn’t want to.
But she swiped her finger across the screen, unlocking the phone to answer the call. The image on the other end was dark with just a pool of light in the background.
Her own image popped up as a dark square in the bottom corner of the screen. She hadn’t turned on the light.
“I guess you changed your mind about seeing me,” he said.
“I just got home,” she said. She fell backward on her bed and reached over to flick on the lamp on her nightstand. “I can’t see you, either.”
He turned the phone and she saw him sprawled on his back on a big bed with some sort of padded brocade headboard behind him. His shirt was unbuttoned and he had one arm stretched up over his head. He was holding the phone up above him with his other hand.
“Better?”
She sighed. She shouldn’t do this late at night when her defenses were down. And they were down. She was feeling mopey and alone. Her mom was due back tomorrow and maybe that would help. But for tonight she had Rafe.
“I miss you.”
“You do?”
“I do. You look like you had a formal event tonight,” she said. She’d seen him on the news entering a gala with the blonde on his arm earlier this evening.
“I did. Listen, if you saw any pictures on the news of me with a woman, it was just state business. She’s nothing to me.”
“Does she know that?” Emily asked. Because that woman had seemed as though she had her claws sunk into him.
“Would I be here with you if she didn’t?” he asked.
She looked at him in the shadows. “Would you?”
