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Well, of course he did. Alexa was as constrained by her royal duties as his brother was, giving her little choice as to how to live her life.
For a man committed to living his life with as few encumbrances as possible that would never work.
‘You still thinking of ending things with Alexa in six months’ time?’
Rafe gave his brother a blank stare. Jag had always had the uncanny knack of knowing what he was thinking. The fact that he’d been staring at Alexa for a full five minutes might have also given him away. ‘Of course.’
‘Okay.’
Jag joined him in watching Alexa chatting with the other women who had joined her and their sister at the table, sipping his glass of red.
‘Okay? That’s it?’ He cut his brother a brooding glance. ‘You’re not even going to try and tell me I’m wrong? Not going to try and give me some brotherly advice?’
A smile threatened to break out on Jag’s face. ‘Would you like me to give you some brotherly advice?’
‘No.’ Rafe didn’t need advice. Especially about his love life. And since when did he think of sleeping with a woman as his ‘love life’?
‘You sure?’ Jag asked. ‘You look a little torn.’
Did he? Well, hell. ‘I’m not torn. Alexa is...she’s great. But she’s not looking for anything long-term and nor am I. You know that.’
‘I know some things are bigger than we are,’ Jag answered enigmatically. ‘But the Rebel Prince and the future Queen of Berenia? It would never work, would it?’
‘No, it wouldn’t.’ Rafe’s expression turned grim. ‘You know I can’t toe the royal line if I don’t agree with it.’
‘That’s always been one of your great strengths, Rafa. You speak your mind. Alexa would no doubt appreciate having someone like that in her corner when she starts her reign.’
‘Father didn’t.’
‘No. But he was an ass.’
Rafe gave a short bark of laughter. ‘Not to put too fine a point on it.’
Jag grinned, and suddenly it was as if they were teenagers again and racing each other across the sand in dune buggies.
‘Remember that day in—’
‘The mountains? Yeah. I beat you to the top that day.’
Jag scoffed. ‘We’ll call it even. But I definitely won the—’
‘You wish,’ Rafe cut in on a laugh. ‘I’ve always been better than you at fencing.’
‘Dream on, lover boy. I’ll give you a rematch any time you’re game. But I was talking about the yacht race around the sound.’
‘A close call, I admit. But again, lucky.’
Jag laughed at the outrageous call. He’d always been the better yachtsman, while Rafe had excelled at dune racing.
He’d been wrong to dread tonight, Rafe realised with a jolt of clarity. Wrong to put so much distance between him and Jag over his guilty conscience because he had missed his brother. Missed his easy companionship.
‘Listen, Jag...’ he let out a slow breath ‘...I need to apologise for walking away all those years ago when you became King. I should have stayed to help with the transition.’
Jag gave him a look. ‘There’s nothing to apologise for. I wanted you to go. You’d lived under Father’s iron rule for far too long. Staying would have stifled you even more.’
‘Still—’
‘It’s okay, Rafa. We’re—’
