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‘I love you, Hannah.’ Those words ground out of him, though easier than expected because they were his deepest truth. The root of all things good in his life. Her eyes widened a fraction, her hands clenched. He didn’t know what those things meant, but he carried on regardless. She deserved these words; she should have nothing less. ‘From the moment I saw you here I knew you were a danger to me, so to ruin any chance with you I was unspeakably cruel. But that doesn’t change therealtruth. There is only you.’
Her eyes gleamed a little brighter. Tears? What he wouldn’t give to hold her, to tell her it would all be okay, but he couldn’t, because he was the cause of her suffering.
‘What about your perfect princess?’
‘I’ve spent too long setting standards of perfection that were impossible for me to meet. I don’t want some perfect princess. I need the woman who captured my heart.’
She turned and walked to the window, staring outside into the rambling cottage garden, bright and beautiful in the English summer. Her hand reached up to her face, swiping at it.
‘You hurt me. Claiming you now love me isn’t a free pass.’ Her voice was almost a whisper. The ache in it clawed at him, his own pain at what he’d done to her well deserved. His cross to bear. Alessio walked towards her, close enough to comfort if she eventually accepted it, far enough to give her the space she obviously needed.
‘I know. All I’ve ever seen of love is that it brings pain. It seemed to be a poisoned thing. What I failed to realise is the great joy it can bring as well. I want to repair what I’ve done here, even if you can’t love me back.’
Her shoulders hunched. She wrapped her arms round herself, as if she were trying to hold all the pain in. He hated that he’d done this. Failed the person he cared for the most.
‘The problem is I can’tstoploving you.’
He shut his eyes, giving a quiet thank-you to the heavens. It was as if everything that had been knotted up tight began to loosen. She loved him. Shestillloved him. His responsibility now was even greater than before. To honour her the way he should have from the beginning.
‘I want to take the pain away by loving you back. Fiercely and for ever.’
Hannah turned, her eyes pink-rimmed. It was all he could do not to reach out and hold her, but he didn’t have permission for that, not yet. She held out her hands in front of her, looked down at them. Splayed her fingers. The light from the window behind bathed her in an ethereal glow. She looked like a beautifully flawed angel.
‘I’m pretty sure princesses don’t have paint-stained hands.’
He feared he’d been the one to make her unsure about this, about herself, when he’d witnessed her being more regal than most royalty he’d ever met. Being a mere princess was beneath her. If he could make her a queen, he would.
‘A princess can have whatever she wants. WhatIwant is the artist who painted the portrait of the man now hanging in my bedroom. The man I should have aspired to be all these years. Not a prince, but a man in love. That love is what makes me a better person. There is no one other than you, Hannah. There never will be. The question is whether you want me for ever in return. And I’m prepared to wait. However long it takes.’
She looked up at him, eyes wide and sad and yet still tinged with hope, because it was all either of them had left. Hope that each would take a chance on the other, to build something towering and great, that could withstand anything life threw at them.
‘What if however long is right now?’
He couldn’t help the smile that broke out on his face, the fire of blazing happiness that lit inside. That she wanted him, that he was enough. The weight of the world rose from his shoulders. A lightening in his soul.
‘Then I’ll immediately accept whatever you allow. I don’t expect your trust, perhaps not for years. But I’ll fight for it each day. For you to be by my side. As my wife, my princess, my artist, myeverything. You already own all my heart. Let me give you my whole world.’
She took a step towards him. ‘You have my trust now. I’m not risking my heart for just anyone.’
Alessio opened his arms and Hannah walked right into them. He tightened them round her, soaking in her warmth, relishing in the feel of her body against his. His love. His heart. His home. She tilted her head up, her lips parted. He dropped his mouth to hers, the kiss coaxing, loving, saying in his gentle way what he had trouble verbalising. That he loved her more than words could ever express.
‘It’s no risk,bella.’ That was his vow and promise, from this moment forward. ‘I will cherish and care for your precious heart for ever.’
EPILOGUE
ALESSIOSTROLLEDTHROUGHthe doorway of the pavilion where Hannah now had her studio. The afternoon sun filtered like a patchwork through the windows, warming the space. She didn’t look up at him as he entered. He loved that about her...her absolute focus when absorbed by her art.
No words were necessary to describe the love they shared, even in those moments. As she’d begun painting his coronation portrait he’d sat for her, stretches of blissful silence where he could watch her work. The concentration. She had it now, a tiny frown plaguing her forehead, as if something about the canvas troubled her. Something about him, since she was still working on his picture.
‘I worry about you down here—it’s too far from the palace.’
Her frown melted away. She looked up at him and smiled. The joy in it, seeing him, could light up his darkest places. When fear threatened, that he wouldn’t be enough to guide the country through what was ahead of it, she could chase it away with the tilt of her perfect lips. With Hannah, there was no room for anything other than courage, love and trust.
‘Don’t be ridiculous. It’s only a short stroll and the light’s perfect.’ She rose from the stool on which she’d been sitting and placed her hands on the small of her back, arching in a stretch. The soft fabric of her dress moulded to show off her rounded belly. Four months along and the pregnancy news in his country had reached fever pitch, with speculation over whether the baby would be a boy or a girl and bets being taken. Not even he and Hannah knew. Not yet. They wanted to keep some surprises, and to them it didn’t matter. Either a little prince or princess would fill them with even more happiness, if that were possible.
He welcomed every moment of the bliss Hannah had brought to his life. A flood of warmth coursed over him. Love, pride. A whole mix that filled every day. He walked towards her, slowly, because she’d banned him from seeing his portrait until she was satisfied with it. He wondered if she ever would be.
‘May I look now?’ he asked.
