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‘You think that?’
‘It’s your opinion I’m asking, Rafe.’
‘I thought you must be uptight about being in the palace and so I decided to back off—to give you the space you needed.’
Her voice trembled. ‘I thought you’d gone off me.’
‘Gone off you? Are you out of your mind? We were having a communication breakdown, which wasn’t exactly helped by palace protocol.’
He met her gaze and wondered if she could read the longing in his. She still hadn’t touched him and he thought there was still some defiance in her attitude.
‘I’m going to Paris next month. I’m taking a professional pastry course to capitalise on all the cooking I did at Poonbarra.’
‘Then I can come to Paris and work from there.’
‘Maybe I want the chance to spread my wings and live on my own for a while.’
‘Then I’ll wait until you’re ready to fly back to me.’
‘You’re so sure I would?’
‘That’s a risk I’m prepared to take.’
She looked at him. ‘Do you think you have the answer to everything, Rafe Carter?’
‘I hope so,’ he said, his voice suddenly serious. ‘Because I feel like I’m fighting for my life here. All I’m asking for is one more chance, Sophie. A chance to make it right. A chance to show you just how much you mean to me.’
Her lips pressed in on themselves but he could sense she was softening.
‘If you ever, ever hurt me—’
‘I won’t ever hurt you again,’ he vowed. ‘I will love and cherish you for the rest of my days. Just so long as you...’ His words tailed off, but he knew that he had to say them. Because they were equals. Because his love for her was fierce and strong, but that didn’t make him any less vulnerable. And because there was no shame attached in admitting that to the woman you loved. He swallowed. ‘Promise never to hurt me either.’
‘Oh, Rafe.’ And now the unshed tears were spilling down her face and she brushed them away as she shook her head from side to side. ‘I will never do that,’ she whispered. ‘Never.’
His own eyes were pricking as he framed her face in his hands and a swell of emotion so powerful came over him that the world seemed to tilt on its axis. For a moment there was nothing but stillness as their gazes met.
His voice was full of tenderness. ‘Do you want to sail your yacht off into the sunset?’
She smiled as she lifted her face to his. ‘It’s a long time until sundown. I think I’d rather kiss you instead.’
EPILOGUE
A GHOSTLY WAIL shattered the night calm and Sophie rolled over lazily to curl her naked body comfortably against Rafe.
‘That’s a curlew,’ she murmured sleepily, her breath warm against his chest.
‘Congratulations.’ He kissed the top of her head. ‘Soon you’ll be eligible for membership of the Australian Ornithological Society.’
‘That’s not fair,’ she protested. ‘I know lots about the indigenous birdlife. I can easily recognise a bowerbird.’
He kissed the tip of her nose. ‘Only because their colouring is as blue as your beautiful eyes.’
‘Oh, Rafe,’ she whispered as she wriggled luxuriously against him. ‘I do love you.’
‘Well, that’s good,’ he said steadily, though he could do nothing about the sudden lump which had risen in his throat. ‘Because I love you too.’
He pulled her closer, reflecting on the last three eventful years. It had been an interesting road they’d travelled together before Princess Sophie of Isolaverde had finally consented to become his wife. She’d meant what she said about doing a cookery course in Paris, but Rafe had quickly established a branch of Carter Communications in the Eighth Arrondissement and they had set up home nearby.
