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‘They’re afraid you’ll believe in yourself. And when you do, they fear the Queen you’ll become.’
CHAPTER TEN
RAFEWOKEINthe darkness and checked his phone. Three in the morning. He turned. Under the door to Lise’s room cut a sliver of light. Strange that she’d be awake this early. He rolled out of bed, went to the walk-in wardrobe, and threw on a pair of pyjama bottoms, no shirt. He knew Lise enjoyed seeing him half dressed. Any tantalising lick of her gaze over his bare skin gave him hope that soon this cold war between them would end. And he needed it to end. Being close to her and not touching. Not kissing. No silken skin sliding over his as they immersed themselves in the heady pleasure of each other’s bodies. It had begun to consume him, till Lise was all he could think about. His silent obsession. The meagre taste he’d had would never be enough for the addict he’d become.
He walked to the door between their rooms and knocked without an answer. Knocked again, louder this time. No sound came from the room beyond, so he opened the door and went through.
A lamp glowed in the corner. The bed turned down but not slept in, the sheets pristine. He checked the expansive en-suite bathroom, but nothing. She hadn’t slept here. Lise had been tired over dinner. Pale skin, dusty shadows under her red-tinged eyes. Yawning when she’d thought he’d not been looking. She’d drunk coffee. Espresso. Strong. Not her usual preference. Looked worn and frayed at the edges after days of trying to bring Lauritania back from the brink.
They would succeed. Failure was not an option. So he tried to stitch her together as much as he could, when it appeared as if she might unravel. But she hadn’t yet. Lise had been underestimated by her family, her government and, in the past, by herself. Now she was working harder than anyone to keep it together and no one could doubt she was growing into a force to be reckoned with.
He walked back to his room and dragged on a shirt before padding barefoot down the chilly halls of a disappearing autumn, in search of her.
Rafe wanted to spend the cold, snow-covered season in bed with Lise, keeping each other warm in the best of ways. On bleak days of wind and sleet they could take time being wrapped in each other. A fantasy, perhaps, but he believed they’d made inroads. She seemed freer, happier. Like the hopeful Princess she’d once been. It was a pleasure to witness.
As he moved through the palace everything lay dark and quiet. Paintings of Lise’s ancestors glaring down at him as he looked for her. He didn’t care. To hell with all of them. They hadn’t cared for Lise. Her father, mother, brother. Leaving her to fix the mess they’d neglected without any preparation. He strode to the pool where she might have gone for a swim, as he knew she sometimes did from the night staff who kept a hidden watch for her safety from darkened alcoves. Sadly, the pavilion sat empty. Moonlight shimmering on the water through the glass above. He travelled back past their suites towards the study, which was the only other place he thought she might have gone if she’d remained in the palace.
As Rafe reached the room a streak of light shone from underneath the dark oak. The door lay open a crack, so he pushed his way in. Lise slumped over her desk, head on her arms. Asleep. The computer screen on, a royal crest sliding lazily across the lock screen. An empty teacup and pot sat abandoned in a corner. The fresh herbal smell made him smile a little, that she drank his own family’s concoction.
On the desktop were scattered papers covered in her elegant, looped script. Notes. Scratchings. Ideas. He didn’t look too closely though, transfixed by her face. Her pale lashes feathered on even paler cheeks.
‘Ahh, Lise.’ She was dressed for the bed she’d not slept in. A robe wrapped round her, grey and soft. He reached out, stroked her hair. Brushed a few silky strands from her forehead. She didn’t stir, other than a long, slow breath in and out.
It couldn’t be comfortable lying there, which told him how exhausted she was. She needed to sleep late. As it was the weekend now, Lise could. They didn’t have anything that couldn’t be moved. A meeting approving the final arrangements for the Queen’s Ball was all that stood in her way in the early morning. He wanted her to sleep late with him, but she’d unlikely accept that yet, as much as he wanted to tuck her into his body and keep her safe. Instead, he’d settle for taking her to her room. Rafe moved in close, manoeuvred one arm round her curved back, another under her legs and scooped her slender frame high into his arms. She stirred then. Protested in a sleepy kind of way as her body stiffened into consciousness. He held her close. Stilled for a moment as she squirmed.
‘Shh...’ he murmured. ‘You fell asleep at your desk, love. Lay your head down.’ He waited a heartbeat. Two. Absorbed the sleepy mumble of something that made no sense. He waited another second as Lise draped an arm over his shoulder, snuggled her head into his neck, and he relished the feel of her in his arms again.
In sleep, Lise’s body told the truth of her and him. He moved silently towards her room, accepting a moment in time with her in his arms. Carried her inside where the temptation to curl up with her almost overwhelmed him. Reaching her bed, he bent over to lay her on the covers.
As he did, Lise gripped him tight, and clung to him with a whimper of distress.‘No.’
He straightened and she nuzzled into him, her breath ghosting across his neck. Rafe stood for a few moments, letting her settle back into sleep. She grew heavy in his arms again. He rested his head against hers, breathing in the scent of wildflowers, which he’d come to think of now as her own. She needed to sleep long and soundly, yet she didn’t want him to let her go. The solution was obvious.
He manoeuvred into the bed with her still in his arms. She opened her eyes then. Confused, still mostly asleep the way they looked at him dreamy and unfocussed. Rafe lay back, taking her with him.
‘Rest now,’ he said as he stroked his hand over Lise’s side. Absorbing her long, contented exhale as her head nestled into his shoulder, her hand over his heart.
He reached out and turned off the bedside light. A lassitude stole over him. Borne by tiredness, sure. He and Lise had both been working long and hard. Still, it was more. Something strange and foreign that he took a while to recognise. A bone-deep contentment that he was finally where he should be again. She might hate him in the morning; he would deal with her disapprobation then. But having her in his arms again? That was worth it.
Lise’s heart pounded as she grappled to find purchase on something, anything. She had to hold on. She couldn’t let go, yet she couldn’t recall why. But she was falling.
Falling.
She gasped, trying to suck in the air that never seemed enough. Trying to breathe but the breaths wouldn’t come. Clutching onto the first thing she could reach.
‘Lise. Shh... I have you.’
The rough caress of a voice. Where was she? Lise opened her eyes. Blinked at the soft light of a new day. In her bed, on her side, with her hands clenching around clumps of a man’s T-shirt.
‘You had a bad dream.’ Rafe. She couldn’t release his shirt, her hands clamped in place over the scrunched fabric. Bad things happened if she let people go. ‘I found you asleep at your desk and tried to put you to bed. You held on to me.’
She remembered now. Numbers. Too many numbers that screeched at her in urgency and hurt her eyes as she tried to sort through finances that made little sense. She’d put her head down on her desk for only a few moments. To rest. Then she’d woken cradled safe like a child in strong arms. Weightless, being carried. Till that sensation of being let go and she grabbed on tight.
The shivering started, a quake through her body. ‘I’m cold. Rafe, why am I always so cold?’
He wrapped his arms round her, drawing her close to the hard heat of him. ‘I don’t know, but I’m here.’ He dropped his forehead to hers. Holding her till the shivering subsided and she was lax and soft in his embrace. She lay there, his body warmth sliding over her. Aware now of their legs and feet entwined. The bulk of his muscles and jut of strong bones. Soaking in the pleasure of it all as he held her tighter to his body. The care he’d taken, demanding nothing for himself. Every part of him raw and male and uncompromising as she lay flush against him. Especially...
Oh.
