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‘Absolutely. I’m dying to explore.’
The beach was a long straight strip of white sand, the sea lapping at the edges. In the distance Clem could see a gentle curve and a high tumble of rocks against the high cliff that marked the end of the bay. They started to walk, first slowly and then faster as they took the measure of each other’s stride, and Clem enjoyed the pace, the stretch in her muscles as she matched Akil step for step. She could hear the occasional hum of a car, the screech of gulls out at sea, but otherwise it was as if it were just the two of them—and Henri, several hundred yards behind.
Neither spoke, their strides perfectly matched. Clem was totally aware of Akil’s every movement, the swing of his arms, the flex of his hands. She swallowed, trying to ignore the all-encompassing awareness of him that seemed to grow with every passing minute.Behave, she scolded herself, aware that she needed to stop staring at his wrists, stop finding herself transfixed by the pulse at his throat, stop dwelling on the lines of his mouth, stop allowing herself to trace the outlines of his strong, broad body.
It was just attraction, but it was inconvenient and misjudged.
‘Are you seriously considering it?’ she asked abruptly. ‘Rosy’s idea?’
Akil’s brows drew together in surprise, a haughty expression crossing his face, and she winced at her gaucheness, scrambling to explain. ‘I meant what I said earlier, it’s your decision and not really my business. But in some ways itis. I’ve spent just a few hours in my sister’s shoes and I can see why she feels she needs someone permanent on her side, in her team. It’s pretty lonely being a princess. But I still think rushing into an engagement, into a marriage, is just a temporary fix. Because if you’re not right for each other she’ll end up lonelier than before. I love her,’ she said awkwardly. ‘And I hate that I can’t support her the way a sister should. So maybe I’m interfering but I can’t just pretend that this situation isn’t worrying me.’
Akil’s face softened as she spoke. ‘My parents are the perfect example of a hasty ill-thought-out marriage so please be assured I would never rush into any kind of decision. My father was an ambitious man, my mother a country girl. Theirs was a summer romance which should have stayed a lovely memory but instead became an unhappy marriage.’
‘That sounds tough. They’re still together?’
‘Legally, but in reality they see very little of each other. My mother resides at the family home, my father retired after a heart attack eight years ago and now lives mainly in Switzerland.’ A heart attack Akil had been responsible for. He could never forget that.
‘What happened?’
He didn’t answer for a while, instead he paused and turned, his gaze far away on the horizon. ‘My mother understood little of politics and hated my father’s absences,’ he said at last. ‘She didn’t want a husband who spent most of his time away from home, whereas he wanted a hostess to work the room, someone to charm allies and rivals and know all the gossip, not a shy, paranoid wife who drank too much to work up the courage to have a conversation. They were very different, too different. They made each other unhappy, everyone around them unhappy. With different partners, in another life, they might have been better people, happier people, but we’ll never know. If I marry, then I know to look for shared goals, compatibility, not momentary attraction.’
‘And love? Do you want love?’
‘Love can complicate things. It’s not essential for me. Liking and respect mean more to me than love.’
She nodded. ‘Thank you for your honesty.’
‘And?’
‘And what?’
‘Did I pass?’
It was her turn to pause and think, to search for the right words. ‘I like your honesty and self-awareness and I like the fact that you understand my sister’s world and aren’t intimidated by it. But I still think she should wait for someone who loves her, not her job, someone who would marry her if she ran the shack on the beach or cleaned her office. And we both know that’s not you. But,’ she added hurriedly, aware she was interfering in a way she had promised herself not to, ‘this isn’t about what I think. You two have to decide what’s best for you. But can I ask you something?’
‘Anything. It doesn’t mean I’ll answer but you can ask.’
‘What’s in it for you? You don’t strike me as the kind of man who likes to play second fiddle, and I know what a macho culture Asturia has. Do you really see yourself as a consort?’
Akil was floored by Clem’s directness, by her honesty. Floored—and intrigued and more than a little impressed. It was so far from the kind of language used in the Senate and at Court, no dancing around, no double-speak. Instead she aimed straight for the heart of the matter and hit it.
‘Power,’ he said simply. ‘If I marry your sister, if I became Prince Consort, then I will always be at the very heart of policy, of government, a decision maker, and influencer.’
Her brow furrowed. ‘And that matters to you?’
He laughed shortly. ‘I’m a politician. Power is all that matters, Clem.’
‘Power for power’s sake?’
He hated the uncertainty in her voice. ‘No, but without power nothing can be achieved. My family has been at the heart of government for generations, carrying on their work is my destiny whether I like it or not. I haven’t always agreed, but when my father had his heart attack and had to take early retirement I promised him that I would fulfil his dreams. That promise means a lot to me. But, as I said, I know the pitfalls of marrying rashly and wrongly. I could achieve great things in my current role too. I just need to weigh it all up.’
‘You’re close to your father?’ He could hear the wistfulness in her voice as she asked the question and winced.
‘I wouldn’t say close,’ he said wryly. ‘I don’t think anyone is. My father is...very single-minded. He sees no views but his own, brooks no opinion but his own. He’s not an easy man.’
‘But he must be proud of you,’ she argued. ‘Rosy said that you are the youngest, most influential politician in Asturia. And look at your sister, a surgeon in New York. Surely that success means a lot to him?’
‘The only thing that would make my father proud is if my sister marries someone he approves of and if I keep climbing the political ladder. Would he approve of me marrying your sister? Without a doubt. Does that influence me? It shouldn’t, but...’ he shrugged ‘...I can’t deny that his approval is something I seek. Maybe it’s a weakness.’ He strode on, appalled at how much he’d said, how much he’d revealed, how much he’d exposed. It wasn’t like him to speak about his family, about his own insecurities and complicated feelings around his father’s push for Akil to do more, to be more. What was it about this woman that made him speak without fear or thought?
