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He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
She stared down at her plate. “Anyway, I had to let Mrs. Vadi go home and be with her family tonight. Because I can’t.”
“I still don’t understand.”
“Don’t you have a family?”
He blinked. “Not the way you mean.”
“No siblings?”
“I was raised an only child.”
“Your mother?”
“Dead.”
“Your father?”
“No.”
“That’s dreadful,” Rose said softly, her heart breaking. Looking at his profile in the darkening twilight, she tightened her fingers over his. “I’m so sorry.”
For a moment, he didn’t move. Then he pulled his hand away. “Let me guess,” he said sardonically. “You lived in a big old house, your mother baked cookies when you came home from school and your father taught you how to ride your bike.”
“Yes,” she said simply.
“Of course.” He looked away. “You had the fairy tale.”
She stared at him. The fairy tale?
Standing up abruptly, he reached for her hands and pulled her to her feet. “Come on,” he said gruffly. “This time, I’ll make dinner.”
The full moon had risen low over the horizon as they walked along the deserted beach to the honeymoon cottage. Pulling her into the modern kitchen, he turned on a light.
“I can help,” she offered weakly.
“Absolutely not.” He used the chopping knife in his hand to point at the kitchen table. “Sit there.”
As she watched, he swiftly made two large turkey sandwiches, served with slices of ripe mango. He set both plates down on the kitchen table and sat beside her.
He popped open a small bottle of Indian beer and handed it to her, then clinked his bottle against hers with a grin. “Bon appétit.”
The sandwich and fruit were delicious. As she ate, Rose looked at him in the sleek, dimly lit kitchen. His words still echoed through her mind.
You had the fairy tale.
She’d once thought marrying a handsome baron in a castle was the amazing dream. The truth was that she’d had the fairy tale all along.
She’d had family and friends she loved. She had a small apartment of her own, with her childhood home just an hour away. She’d had enough money to pay her bills. So what if she’d had to hold down more than one job to make ends meet? So what if her car didn’t always work well, or she had to jump-start it half the time to get to her night classes? She’d had a happy childhood. She’d had a happy life.
She’d been lucky beyond words.
“You’re right,” she said over the lump in her throat. “With my family, I mean. I guess I did have the fairy tale.”
Finishing his sandwich, Xerxes took a sip of beer and looked at her. “You’ll have it again.” Moonlight from the window frosted his body, making him appear otherworldly, like a dark angel, as he leaned toward her. “A woman like you was born to have a happy life.”
Her breathing quickened as his gaze fell to her mouth. He was going to kiss her. She could feel it. He stroked her cheek, tilting her he
