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After hearing him speak so passionately about his country and his people. If Marco had a duty to his people, then she too had duties to him and her love for him; loving someone meant putting them first and their needs before one's own. Marco's great need was to fulfil his duty and he could not do that with her in his life. A small, sad shadow darkened her eyes—the ghost of her dreams. Seeing it Marco frowned.
‘I’m boring you.: he announced curtly.
‘No.’ Emily told him. ‘No! I like listening to you talking about your plans. I just wish that you had told me who you were when we first met.’ Had he done so she would have been so much better armoured against her vulnerability to him and she would certainly never have started dreaming they could have a permanent future together.
‘It wasn't a deliberate deceit on my part.’ Marco defended himself coolly.
‘Maybe not but you could have said something...warned me. Then, at least...’ She stopped, shaking her head, not wanting to admit her own folly where he was concerned.
‘In order to live the kind of life I wanted, to prove myself on my own terms, it was necessary for me to do it with anonymity and without the trappings of royalty. I grew up here as a renegade in my grandfathers eyes. I was his heir, but I refused to conform or let him turn on me and bully me the way he did my father.’
Marco's expression changed, and Emily ached to reach out and comfort him when she saw that look in his eyes.
‘My father was too gentle to stand up to my grandfather. As a child I hated knowing that. As a form of compensation I suppose. I rebelled against my grandfather’s authority and I swore that I would prove to him and to the world, that I had the capability to succeed as myself.’
‘But while you were proving yourself, you missed the island and your family, your father?’ Emily guessed tenderly.
Marco opened his mouth to reject her words and then admitted huskily. ‘Yes. It was such a shock when he was killed in a freak accident off the islands coast. Something Id never imagined happening...never considered.’
And along with his natural grief at the loss of his father. Marco had had to deal with the irreversible changes in his own circumstances that had followed. Emily acknowledged silently. It must have been so hard for him—a man used to taking control of every aspect of his personal life, to have to come to terms with the fact that, as King, a huge part of his life would now be beyond his control. Just listening to him was causing a change within her own thoughts, turning her angry bitterness and pain into compassionate understanding and acceptance.
It altered everything for her. Did he recognise how very alone he was emotionally? Was that a deliberate choice, or an accidental one? If he knew about it did he care, or did he simply accept it as part of the price he paid for his royal status?
‘I would hate to be in your shoes.’ The words had slipped out before she could stop them.
Marco looked searchingly at her.
‘What do you mean?’ he demanded.
‘I can hear how important your people are to you Marco, and how strongly you feel about helping them but...’ She paused and shook her head. ‘I couldn't pay the price you’re about to pay for being Niroli’s king. On the one hand yes you will have enormous wealth and power, but on the other you wont have any personal freedom, any right to do what you want to do. Everything will have to be weighed against how it affects your people. That is such a tremendously heavy responsibility.’ She gave a small sigh. ‘I suppose its different if you’re born to it. I'm beginning to see why princes marry princesses,' she added ruefully. You really do have to be born royal to understand.’
‘Not necessarily. You’re doing a pretty good job of showing you have a strong grasp of what's involved.’ Marco told her dryly. They had rarely spoken so openly to one another and it surprised him how much he valued what she had said to him. Impulsively, he slowed the car and reached for her hand, giving it a small squeeze that caused her to look at him in surprise. Such a small, tender gesture was so very unlike him.
‘I’m glad you're here with me. Emily.’
Her heart was thumping and thudding with the sweetness of the emotions pouring through her. Marco brought the car briefly to a halt and leaned across and kissed her—a hard, swift kiss that contained a message she couldn't manage to decipher, but which sent a physical craving for him soaring through her body. She had never, ever known him exhibit such extraordinarily un-Marco behaviour before. Her heart felt as though it had wings, her own happiness dizzying her.
