Page 15 of Not Fit for a King?


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“I was rude?”

“And cruel. You should be ashamed of yourself! I can’t believe that’s how your parents raised you.”

Color darkened his cheekbones and his eyes glittered with anger. “I could say the same for you. Engaged to me and yet playing the field—”

“How dare you!”

“Save me the theatrics. I know, Emmeline. I know the truth.” “What truth?”

“I know why you were in Palm Beach. I know what you were doing there—”

“Attending fashion shows and dinners and a charity polo match.”

“God, you’re good,” he said, moving back up the stairs with that stealthy animal grace that made her pulse leap and heart beat too fast. “Charity polo match! That’s wonderful. Cling to your story. Keep to the facts, right?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t go there,” Zale said, joining her at the top of the stairs, and his sheer size and intensity overwhelmed her. She didn’t like how he towered over her. Didn’t like that she had to tip her head back to see his expression. Being this close made her feel alarmingly vulnerable.

“What does that mean?” she demanded fiercely, her heart racing, her pulse unsteady.

“Emmeline, I know. I know why you were in Palm Beach. I know you went to meet him. I know you spent every free moment in Florida you could with him.”

Hannah inhaled hard, stunned. Couldn’t be … Emmeline couldn’t have been with someone else when she was engaged to the King Patek … could she?

“No,” she whispered, not wanting to believe it, not wanting to imagine that beautiful, charming Emmeline d’Arcy would be unfaithful. “That’s not true.”

“Don’t add insult to injury! It’s bad enough you were seeing him throughout our engagement, but don’t lie to me, too. You were seen together—constantly—mutual friends were concerned enough to phone and let me know.”

Hannah felt cold. His ugly, hurtful words made her sick. “What friends?” she murmured faintly, horrified that this was the kind of relationship Zale and Emmeline had. How could they marry when they mistrusted each other so? When they had so many secrets? Where was the warmth? And respect?

“Does it matter which friends?” he answered wearily, his expression shuttered. “Because it’s the truth. You were with Alejandro every moment you could spare. I wasn’t even sure you’d get on the plane to come here.”

Hannah laced and unlaced her fingers, heartsick.

That’s why Emmeline had wanted Hannah to switch places with her? She’d wanted more time with her lover. No. No, couldn’t be …

Was Emmeline that cold? That calculating?

Hannah shook her head, confused, betrayed and wished with all her heart she’d never started this terrible charade. She’d thought it was an innocent prank, pretending to be Emmeline for a few hours, but instead there was so much more at stake.

Countries. Kingdoms.

A man’s self-respect.

Hannah’s eyes burned and she had to look away to cling to her control. “I’m sorry,” she said, thinking the words didn’t mean much because they’d change nothing. Emmeline still wasn’t here. Hannah was pretending to be someone she wasn’t. And the charade continued, making Zale Patek the fool.

Her father would be so ashamed if he saw her now. He’d raised her to be strong, independent and true.

True.

But oh, she wasn’t being honest now. She was anything but. And Zale deserved better.

At the very least, he deserved the truth.

“But you did come,” he said after a moment, breaking the strained silence. “Do you mean to stay? Or are you just waiting for an opportunity to escape?”

Hannah went hot then cold, lips parting—but what could she say?

Nothing.

So she closed her mouth and just looked at him, heart aching, wanting so badly to tell him everything but not knowing where to start.

And then he turned, jaw hard, tight, and continued on down the stairs, his broad shoulders squared.

Zale needed air. Badly.

He walked through the central hall down a corridor, leaving the beautifully restored palace for his favorite wing—the original castle keep, a stone tower built nearly a thousand years ago with thick walls and a proper parapet for soldiers to patrol.

As a boy this had been his favorite place to hide, a place neither of his brothers could find him and his parents wouldn’t dream to go.

On top of the tower he felt free.

He needed that freedom now. Needed freedom to think, freedom to breathe.

Zale walked the parapet with the stunning views of the old medieval walled town nestled between the green slope of mountain and the blue Adriatic Sea.

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