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‘So, a bit wild?’
‘Quite a bit.’ He gave a wry laugh. ‘You don’t want to know.’
‘But I do.’ And then she was honest. ‘I know who you are,’ she admitted. ‘Aurora told me.’
‘And how does that make you feel?’
‘Better and worse.’
Rafe frowned.
‘Better because I understand now why this can go nowhere,’ Antonietta said. ‘And worse because I understand now why this can go nowhere.’
Rafe laughed ruefully and they carried on walking.
The air was cold on his cooling body and yet the company was invigorating. As they walked he told her something of his life. The endless calls to duty interspersed with a jet-set lifestyle, and the endless stream of heavily vetted company aboard luxurious yachts and invitation-only parties. And he told her how boring it got, for there was no fear of missing out when you were the draw card. And there was no thrill to the chase when all the women in the room had already signed a document to be discreetly yours.
But there were penalties to be paid for living in the fast lane, and he knew his reckless ways upset his people. ‘I’m supposed to lie low until the bruises heal,’ he said.
‘They’re still pretty spectacular,’ she said, looking at his blackened shoulder and the purple lines there to match the yellow and grey ones she knew were on his ribs. ‘And your eye is still black...’
Her voice trailed off because it could easily be covered with make-up, if he chose, since the swelling had all but gone now. Or she could paint him!
Antonietta gave a soft laugh as she recalled a time from her childhood.
‘What’s funny?’ Rafe asked.
‘I painted a rash on myself once. I was trying to get out of school.’
‘Did it work?’
‘I thought it did,’ Antonietta said as they walked on in the crisp morning air. ‘Mymammawas worried and told me to stay in bed. I said I thought I might be strong enough to lie in the lounge and watch television.’
Rafe smiled.
‘Then she said it was a very serious rash, and she would make me Sopa de Pat...’ She glanced over and translated. ‘Pig’s feet soup. It is the thing I hate most in the world. But mymammasaid it was the only cure for the rash I had.’
‘And was it?’ Rafe smiled.
‘I did not wait to find out. I washed off the rash and told mymammaI felt better...’
And now she would be honest, which would take almost more courage than the other night.
‘I would like to paint a rash on you, so you can stay a while.’
‘I would like to stay a while too,’ Rafe agreed. ‘But it won’t change the fact that I have to be home in time for Christmas. I am expected to join my family on the palace balcony on Christmas morning.’ There was more to it than that, though. ‘I’ve been rather reckless in my ways and those days are over.’
‘Have you been told?’ she asked.
‘I have been told the same for more than a decade,’ Rafe admitted, ‘but I know that the time is now. I want to work hard for my country, and to do that I have to marry.’
‘Haveto?’
‘I have been told that if I want more responsibility then I must tame my ways.’
This was not a conversation he had ever expected to have with a lover, for he always kept his distance, even in bed. Not with Antonietta, though, and Rafe tried, as gently as he could, to explain the future that had been dictated for him before he had even been born.
‘I am to marry a bride my father and his advisors deem suitable. One who will further our country’s connections and who understands the role of Crown Prince’s consort.’
