CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FOUR
A NA STOOD AT the bow of the yacht as they left the marina, gripping the railings till her fingers blanched white. The water was an impossible kind of blue ahead of her as they left the harbour towards the open sea.
People might have thought that as a princess she had a life replete with choices. Carriages, crowns, a world in which she could do anything she wished. That was so far from the truth, it was almost laughable. She was chained. The restraints might have been gold and jewel-encrusted, but she’d never really had freedom.
Today, yet again, she was left with no real choices. The alerts on her phone in the maze hadn’t been from Cilla. They’d been notifications about Count Hakkinen. A news report announcing he was to receive an award for bravery for saving her, or so the story went. Dragging her from a crashed car after her accident when she was certain he’d been the one doing the chasing. Her parents knew how she felt and what she feared, and yet they proposed this. How could they?
As part of her role as princess she’d been asked to hand out medals for various sorts of awards. Ana bet anything that her parents would ask her to give the medal to this man to prove to her that her fears were imagined. Groundless.
She couldn’t do it. She wouldn’t . How could she face him? They’d have to shake hands. He’d look at her, search for her old wounds, knowing that she was scarred and all the while believing that no one could love her but him.
That had left her with only one option. To join Aston on his yacht for this farcical trial to see how they’d get on together. It had been presented to her as a choice, but what choice did she really have? She’d needed an escape, and Aston had given her one, but could she afford to say no? If she did, he’d deliver her to her sister, but she’d be back to the beginning and without options. No real assets or means of her own, her parents’ determination that she must marry for duty, Count Hakkinen... In the end, this time away seemed more about putting off the inevitable than learning about whether she and Aston could get on.
At least leaving had been easy enough, as he’d promised. He’d spoken to her parents as she’d packed her bags. She didn’t need to take any sentimental gifts because her parents weren’t into sentimentality. The family photos were all formal portraits. Nothing was candid or unscripted, for fear that it might find its way into the press. No selfies for her. Her clothes were all chosen for her by a stylist. There were colours she liked but nothing she owned ever felt like it had been her own choice. It was as if she was a blank canvas.
For how long had she simply been a passenger in her own life?
She’d packed everything into two suitcases. Aston had told her if she needed anything else he could source it for her. It was a generous offer, but she wasn’t fool enough to forget that everything came with a price. People always wanted something from her; he was no different.
The final goodbyes from her family weren’t about best wishes, but a reminder about appearances. To be discreet. Not to create a scandal. Her parents clearly thought this was the quickest way to ensure the marriage, given her obvious reluctance. She wondered what Aston had said to them, though it hardly mattered. Getting away was the main aim. She’d worry about the rest later.
Scandal, she was happy to avoid. Discretion didn’t trouble her, especially when she wanted to fade into the background. No way was she going to flaunt herself and draw Count Hakkinen’s attention. The end game of marriage was a problem but, as Aston had said, what her parents didn’t know about their private agreement wouldn’t hurt them...
A shiver of sensation ran up her spine. Not unpleasant, rather signifying a presence.
‘You make the most beautiful figurehead,’ Aston said, voice a mere murmur on the breeze. They might only be words, but she wasn’t immune to them. Ana closed her eyes for a moment, relishing the compliment. The sun on her skin. The salty tang of the air.
‘Thank you.’ She faced him, the breeze ruffling her hair over her face. Ana reached up and checked her fringe, brushing it to cover her forehead.
‘Before we spend too much more time together, am I breaching propriety by calling you Anastacia now? Or are you going to require me to call you “Your Highness”?’
‘No, of course not. Anastacia is fine. Or Ana.’
‘Ana . ’
The way he said it, softly. Gently. Almost on a breath, like a whisper imbued with a kind of tenderness entirely unfamiliar to her. A tone that made her believe for a fleeting second that she was someone special.
It had been a mistake, telling him her name’s diminutive. The name that not even her parents or brother used. Only Cilla and a few close friends. It implied a greater intimacy between them than there truly was, yet she couldn’t take the words back now. She was stuck with it, that creeping level of familiarity that seemed to erode all of her well-preserved boundaries. She wanted to keep calling him Mr Lane. But that would never do, not now. The barrier had been breached for ever.
‘Aston,’ she said, trying his name out. It was so new and unfamiliar, it felt unexpectedly intimate. She needed to keep reminding herself that this thing between them was convenient and nothing more. Using his name was nothing special. ‘Where are we heading?’
‘Why don’t you let this be a surprise, see where life takes you?’ he said. ‘Of course, if it gives you a greater sense of security, I’m happy to let you know.’
How well he read her. Her life had held no real surprises. Every part of her day in the palace was diarised. Simply ‘seeing where things took her’ wasn’t in her repertoire. But she supposed this journey could be about discovering new things. Discovering herself...
‘I suppose I could leave myself in your capable hands.’
‘I’m sure you’ll find them more than capable, when the time comes.’
Her lips parted, as the breath hitched in her chest, heat rising to her cheeks. ‘Your confidence no doubt gets you into trouble.’
‘Plenty of time to reap the rewards of that trouble later.’
He smiled. This man was a danger when he did; he was so handsome, it was blinding. She almost needed sunglasses for the glare. Since coming on board the yacht, he’d taken off his jacket. Removed his tie. Her gaze fixed on the base of his throat, the brown skin there. The way a dusting of hair sprinkled on the slice of chest she could see. She wanted to bury her nose at the base of his throat and breathe him in. His scent, of old granite and spice, catching on the breeze.
‘You’ve heard what I have to say on the subject.’
‘I promise to take your lead.’
She tried to rein in her emotions, the way her heartbeat became thready and out of control around him. How there never seemed to be enough air to fill her lungs when he was close. Ana turned, putting him behind her again to peer into the water below them. The bow of the boat cut through the deep blue. She caught a grey flash in the wave below them, then another, breaking the surface.
‘Dolphins riding the bow wave.’ Aston leaned forward, forearms on the rail next to her.
‘Oh. That’s...magical.’
Four of them surfed ahead of the yacht, occasionally leaping out of the water, so joyous and free.
‘I’ve never seen them leaving Halrovia’s harbour before. It’s lucky for you.’
She wasn’t one for signs, but somehow this felt like a good omen, something positive in an otherwise difficult day. Ana kept watching till the dolphins peeled off either side of the yacht and disappeared into the depths. The magic of the moment broke and reality intruded about what she was doing, because she wasn’t free like the dolphins. A lack of some tether made her anxious, not relaxed, like everyone might assume.
Aston straightened. ‘Do you want to see your room? I’m sure you’d like to settle in.’
Anastacia nodded and he led her below decks, through a long passageway ending in a suite. The carpet on the floor was thick and plush. The whole room an opulent display of glass, sleek lines and neutral, modern styling. Her two suitcases sat on the floor ahead of her. What must Aston think? Surely it was a sad indictment of her life that this was all she had to bring with her? But as she looked at him, he wasn’t focussed on her meagre belongings, but at the expansive bed overlooking the ocean, then her.
‘This is the master stateroom,’ he said. ‘I hope it meets your expectations. You should find everything you want here. If you don’t, a phone on the bedside table will connect you to my staff. I’ve asked my Chief Stewardess, Ricci, to give you anything you need to make your journey a comfortable one.’
Being Aston’s yacht, Ana was certain the master stateroom would normally have been inhabited by him. ‘Isn’t this your room? I don’t want to usurp you.’
She wasn’t sure she wanted to sleep in his bed either. There was something entirely too intimate about the thought of lying where his own body had been. Thoughts came to her mind unbidden. Did he sleep naked or clothed? She shut them down.
Aston shrugged. ‘You’re not. It’s only mine when there’s no one more important on the yacht.’
‘Who measures a person’s relative importance here?’
The corner of his lips curled up into a sly kind of grin. ‘Me, of course.’
Heat rushed to her cheeks again and Ana was sure her they were now a rosy red. What was she, a woman of twenty-four or some teenager with a full-blown crush? Right now, it was hard to tell.
‘I’m grateful.’
‘It’s no sacrifice. Hold your gratitude for later, Princess, when your thanks are deserved.’
‘How many staff do you have working here?’
‘Twenty. If Ricci is unavailable, you’ll be able to find someone else quite easily.’
So it wasn’t as if she’d be completely alone with Aston on the yacht. A sensation, something suspiciously like relief, washed over her.
‘You’re welcome to explore anywhere on board. There’s nowhere off-limits to you.’ He motioned to a large wardrobe. ‘Clothes are in there. You can select whatever you want to top up what you’ve brought till we can reach landfall. There’ll be something to fit. If you like it, it’s yours.’
She walked to a door and opened it to find hangers draped in myriad soft fabrics of bright colours.
‘Who do you keep these here for?’
They were all women’s clothes of impeccable quality. Were they kept for lovers? She didn’t know why it was so important to know the answer to that question.
‘I use my yacht for business. I find that people appreciate the extras I provide them whilst they stay here.’
‘How...calculating of you.’
‘I prefer the word shrewd . Anyone who stays on Reine de Marées will remember their time on her.’
‘ Queen of the Tides . Are you expecting me to remember mine?’
‘ Oui. Bien s?r . I’ll ensure it.’
She glanced at the clothes in the wardrobe again, all women’s, looking like all kinds of sizes. ‘And when not you’re conducting business here?’
A look passed over his face, something stark that, if she’d been asked, looked a lot like isolation.
‘I always sleep alone.’
The last rays of sun sank below the horizon as Aston waited on the yacht’s deck. The lights of the Italian coastline twinkled in the distance as he breathed in the salty air of a cool autumn evening. It had been months since he’d felt such peace. A calm washed over him, a settled sensation. Nothing at all to do with Ana, of course. It was the same feeling he had when he climbed the mountains. The silence. Presence in the moment. No past, no future. It was the same on the ocean, the vastness of it all. Whilst he had a firm view of his own importance, he enjoyed the sensation of being insignificant for a few moments in his life. It was freeing.
Whilst his parents’ edict had impacted his equilibrium, he hadn’t realised how easy the idea of having a wife would be. He didn’t really think too hard about whether it was the woman rather than the state of being itself. That was introspection he wasn’t required to make. It was enough to have Ana here. The rest would come, he was certain.
He walked to the table for two, set out of the breeze, because Ricci had told him Ana had worried about it earlier—something about her hair. Strange, but then he’d do what it took to make her life comfortable, show her how easily they could work together, to be so much more. The table was set as he’d asked, for an intimate dinner for two: tea lights, flowers, gleaming crystal glasses and sparkling silverware. He’d requested something romantic so the external lights had been dimmed and string lights hung in their place, imbuing the space with a magical kind of ambience. It was an odd sensation, seeing the setting. He’d never asked for anything like it ever before.
A time for firsts, for him.
For Ana, too.
He wanted her as any man would want a woman he was attracted to. But thoughts of ‘firsts’ led inevitably to the thought that he would be hers. Be the only man to witness a look of pleasure slide over her face as he touched her, entering the tight, wet heat of her for the first time. Teasing her nipples till she gasped as she came. It was all he could do not to stalk down to her room, kiss her and take things to their glorious, inevitable conclusion.
His need for this woman, the hunger for her, had many reasons. Call him old-fashioned, but as his wife Ana would be his to protect. That naturally had evoked all kinds of complex and perfectly natural feelings. He’d had no one gracing his bed for some time so that was the clear reason for this drumbeat of desire which pounded through him, that was all. That was all it could ever be.
He made his way towards the railings of the yacht once more, into the dimness of dusk, adjusting himself in his trousers. It wouldn’t do to have his future fiancée walk out onto the deck seeing him flagrantly aroused. She wanted to be kept safe, and he’d ensure she always felt that way around him. It was a promise, and he knew how important they were to the living and to the dead.
‘This looks beautiful.’
Ana’s voice sounded surprised, in a good way. Something deep inside him curled with primal pleasure that she might have liked what he’d done for her. She’d changed from this afternoon, and it was with slight disappointment that he saw her wearing something she’d brought herself: a black dress with three-quarter sleeves. It was attractive the way it fell softly round her calves, and hugged her curves, but it didn’t satisfy him in the same way wearing something he’d provided might have.
Time.
That was what she’d asked for and no doubt she was still asserting some control over the choices she made, and excluding him from the equation. No matter. He was a patient man, with big plans. He could wait, a little while at least.
‘You look beautiful,’ he said. Her hair hung loose, the fringe covering her forehead. She reached up and adjusted it, looking self-conscious as she did. At what he’d said or something else, he couldn’t be sure.
‘Thank you.’
Ana smiled, but it was what he might have called her business smile. Something that seemed easily practised but didn’t touch her eyes. He wanted her real smile, the one reserved just for lovers who knew each other’s secrets. Once again, he was sure that would come. It was more important to get an engagement ring on her finger. His plans for that would be executed once they’d arrived in Paris.
He approached her and Ana stood a little straighter. She seemed to stiffen. Aston didn’t want that but appreciated it might take a while for her to relax around him. She’d probably never been alone with a man who wasn’t her family or otherwise a long-term employee. ‘Please, come to the table. Dinner will be served soon.’
He placed his hand on her lower back and she didn’t object. Her body was warm under his palm. Her hips swayed as she walked. When they arrived at the small table, he pulled out the chair for her.
‘That’s really not necessary,’ she said. Yet she moved to take it anyway.
‘I was taught to be a gentleman,’ he murmured into her ear and relishing the scent of her, sweet and floral. ‘It’s absolutely necessary.’
She sank into the chair as he pushed it in. Was it his imagination or did she sit a little fast, as if her knees wouldn’t hold her up? Not so unaffected as she pretended, then. He grabbed a bottle of champagne from the ice-bucket and deftly opened it with a quiet hiss, pouring a glass for each of them. He’d asked Ricci to leave them alone as much as possible tonight. Seduction couldn’t start with too much interruption.
‘When will we reach land?’
In such a hurry to leave...or perhaps she’d forgotten some things that she needed. They’d left in a little bit of a rush in the end.
He smiled, trying not to take it too personally. ‘Tomorrow, in Nice. Would you like to do some shopping there? Or perhaps in Paris when we arrive? This afternoon I asked my banker to extend you a line of credit, and that’ll be available to you by the time we reach shore.’
Her eye’s widened, gleaming like tropical pools in the soft light. ‘I...thank you. I have my own things. Enough, I think. Though you haven’t told me what might be expected of me.’
Expected? He wondered again about her life, supposing that it would be full of expectations, closely diarised. Whilst that was largely his life too, he still enjoyed moments of freedom with no plans, just going where the mood took him—something else to offer to her.
One of his staff arrived and served them with an entrée of scallops in their shells. Aston was confident she’d enjoy it. He’d asked Ricci to discover her likes and dislikes, her favourite foods.
Ana cut into the tender flesh and took a small mouthful. Her eyes briefly fluttered shut with pleasure. The look on her face...was that how she’d look when underneath him? That same kind of bliss? He hoped so. In fact, he’d ensure it.
‘There’s not a great deal planned,’ he said. Plans would come in time. A new wife for him—a confirmed bachelor known only for short-term relationships—would create a stir. The publicity would be good for Girard. Even his parents would be keen to exploit it. ‘I expect we’ll want to eat out, so a few casual dinners. Meeting my parents. My mother will want to impress, so it’s likely any dinner will be formal.’
He sampled his own entrée, which was as superb, as he’d expected.
‘Your parents?’
Perhaps, with his comment, Ana might think things were moving a little faster than she’d expected. ‘If they “catch wind” of you, so to speak. Should my mother find out I’m living with a woman, she’ll be curious, since I never have before. I’ve no immediate intention of telling her about you, though. You wanted time. I’m giving it to you.’
Ana seemed to relax at that, not sitting so stiffly any longer, and relishing the remains of her scallops. ‘Your father’s from Australia?’
Aston didn’t think too hard about why her knowledge of his family made him pleased. He liked that he interested her too.
‘ Oui . He travelled to France to learn old-world wine-making techniques, which is how he met my mother.’
‘That sounds romantic.’
More talk of romance. He was now pleased he’d asked for the table to be dressed this way, and for lights to be strung.
‘They’ve been married over thirty years.’
His grandparents had been sceptical at the time, but his mother was a force of nature, and she wouldn’t listen to their pleas for caution when she told them she’d fallen in love with the Australian boy.
‘Have you been to Australia?’
Aston nodded. ‘My mother’s parents demanded their grandchildren be born in France, so my parents obliged. But my father wanted me to know his country, so I did a lot of my schooling there, spending summer holidays at the beach. Working in my father’s family’s vineyard.’
‘It sounds wonderful.’
They’d been some of the happiest times of his life with his Australian relatives. There was something relaxed about them. He’d gone to school during the week, and at the weekend had worked among the vines. He’d surfed and fished, living an idyllic life in the sunshine.
‘It was. I try to visit as often as I can.’
‘I’ve always wanted to travel there but I haven’t had a chance. There’s been no cause for someone from my family to visit in an official capacity.’
Aston finished his entrée. ‘What about holidays?’
‘My family always take their holidays locally, to support the economy.’
When there was a whole world out there to explore? He couldn’t imagine it. Poor princess.
‘Perhaps I could show you one day?’
A honeymoon on one of the tropical islands, perhaps? They could bask in the sunshine there. Swim in pristine water. Make love in the moonlight on a secluded beach. Though where these romantic notions came from, he had no idea.
‘I’d like to see a wombat, or swim with dolphins—maybe even a whale shark.’
Ana seemed more...alive when she talked about those things. She might have led a sheltered life, but he’d known underneath there was a woman who wanted to burst out and see the world.
The things he could show her. Yet he had plans. For the next eighteen months he would be all about training to make what would be one of the climbs of his life. Though right now he didn’t understand why the thought of all that planning and preparation exhausted him, when he usually found it invigorating. It had to be the pervasive stress of securing a wife, that was all. Once he was married, everything would change.
‘I’ve seen a wombat in the wild,’ he said.
Her eyes widened. ‘Really? Where?’
‘One night as a teenager. Near my family’s vineyard. It was grazing.’
‘Like a cow?’
With the look on her face, her eyes sparkling in the candlelight, she made such a beautiful picture. He would tell her stories about all of Australia’s wildlife if it kept her looking at him with such fascination.
‘ Oui . They eat grass.’
‘Who knew? They seem so sweet and round and cuddly.’
He chuckled. ‘Round they might be, but sweet and cuddly, non . I’m sorry to disappoint. They’re grumpy.’
‘Never. I don’t believe you.’
‘My cousins dared me to approach it. I’m sure they knew. Trust me, when that wombat hissed and charged, I ran.’
Ana’s mouth broke into a beaming smile, lighting her up from the inside, more beautiful than any sunset nature could provide. When she laughed, a joyous sound, it was like something lit inside him too. He couldn’t help it, he began laughing with her in a way he hadn’t for months.
‘I’m trying to imagine it. You, being chased by a grumpy wombat,’ she said, wiping at her eyes.
‘It wasn’t an edifying display. I learned wombats are best viewed up close, in zoos.’
She pouted, but the corners of her mouth still quivered with mirth. ‘Now I’m disappointed.’
‘Dolphins and whale sharks are a far easier ask. Trust me.’
Ana cocked her head. That look on her face was almost as if she was trying to decide whether she’d take him up on the offer. Everything in him stilled, but she didn’t make any more of it. Still, it felt like a kind of breakthrough, that trust would come if only he was patient.
He took his glass of champagne, chill under his fingertips, and raised it.
‘A toast,’ he said.
‘To what?’
‘To us.’
‘There is no us...’
Yet . It was only a matter of time. He had no doubts. Aston knew attraction when he saw it. Every time she looked at him, it was obvious she wanted him.
‘There will be.’
‘Don’t you find the idea of an arranged marriage anachronistic? How do you even go about something like that?’
One step forward, two steps back. She wasn’t going to make this easy, but he did like a challenge.
‘Remember I said you interested me?’ Her lips parted in a gratifying way. Her pupils were wide and dark in the low light. ‘When doing business, I asked after you to your father. And the rest, as they say, is history.’
It had been natural to ask after the princess those times he’d seen the King. His mother had known the Queen, and that connection made it easier. Conversations had been surprisingly cordial as he’d mentioned his parents’ desire for him to marry. Soon, the conversations had been less about the business of champagne and more about the business of negotiating his engagement to marry a princess who, when he looked back now, had been conspicuously absent in the whole deal.
In the end, finalising the arrangement had been surprisingly easy. Likely Ana wouldn’t want to hear that story about how quick her family had been to give her away.
He took a bracing sip of his champagne, one of Girard’s finest vintages.
‘It still doesn’t answer why a modern man would choose this method.’
Because it hadn’t been a choice but a necessity. A supressed anger in him sparked. He tried to tamp it down. ‘You could ask yourself why a modern woman would agree if she found the idea so objectionable.’
Anastacia had been prepared to marry Santori. Was the problem here that he wasn’t a prince? That she felt he was somehow beneath her as a commoner? He gritted his teeth and breathed slowly through the annoyance of the thought. She could have told her parents to go to hell, but she hadn’t—so she must be at least somewhat interested.
‘And yet here you are, wanting to marry me because your parents think it’s time.’
Touché, Princess. It wasn’t the whole story, but there was no need for her to know it all.
‘That’s different. You have siblings. Your brother’s the Crown Prince. There’s a certain freedom for the one who isn’t going to carry the family mantle. The heir doesn’t have as many choices. I have obligations.’
Ana put down her glass. ‘So you have no “spare”, as royalty like to call it?’
He didn’t like thinking of Michel that way. They’d been brothers, best friends, then the universe had cruelly snuffed out Michel’s life. To this day Aston had trouble fathoming how a person so full of a desire for living could simply cease to exist.
‘No,’ he said. It still made him want to rage at the unfairness of it all. ‘I’m all there is.’
Aston’s staff had served the main course. As Ana sat across from him, eating a delectable dish of duck, she couldn’t help but think once again how stark he looked. As if he carried the weight of the world. She wanted to reach out, to comfort him.
He’d made two telling comments.
I always sleep alone.
I’m all there is.
She’d had trouble accepting the first, but now she wasn’t so sure. He seemed to hold himself apart. In a world of people rushing about, she could see him standing solitary, as distant and as solid as one of the mountains he climbed.
‘I’ve always wondered, was it difficult being an only child?’
She had siblings, and in many ways at least she and Cilla were united against a common enemy: their parents. Gabe was distant, but Ana had little doubt, if the crunch came, he’d be there for her as much as his role and his own emotional intelligence allowed.
Aston stopped eating, carefully placing down his knife and fork. He took a sip of his champagne. His Adam’s apple bobbed distractedly as he swallowed. He looked so handsome in a blue-and-white-striped shirt, sleeves rolled up showing his strong, tanned forearms.
‘I had a younger brother—Michel. He died.’
Ana’s heart missed a beat, her stomach clenching uncomfortably. She had no words. She felt awful for raising a sibling in such an unthinking way. She reached out her hand, placing it over his, and squeezed. His skin was warm to the touch.
‘I’m so sorry.’
‘It was a long time ago,’ he said, but he didn’t move his hand from under hers. He simply looked at it. She didn’t know what to do now, and didn’t want things to become awkward, so she slowly pulled her hand away, immediately missing the connection her touch gave them.
‘Is that why your parents want you to marry?’
He shrugged. ‘Peut-être.’
Perhaps.
It seemed there was more to the story, though she appreciated she might be touching his tender points. Ana couldn’t imagine what it would be like to lose either of her siblings. She also had a little more understanding for what might be driving his decisions.
‘I understand dynasty—royalty, remember?’
‘The need for heirs. Someone to ensure the family legacy.’
Ana stilled. Children . She hadn’t really thought about wanting them before. They were simply expected for someone who was going to marry a prince. Now the idea of children was tangled up with the need to bare herself. The thought of that...
The air cut off in her throat. What was this proposed marriage, the need for a legacy, if not for children as well? Still, he wasn’t pressuring her. He said if she didn’t like what she saw he’d take her to Isolobello and there’d be no need for an engagement. She just needed to remind him.
‘I can’t make promises.’
His gaze was like a pilot light, blue and bright, shining directly onto her. His attention made her question everything about herself.
‘You did. I’ll ask nothing of you you’re not willing to give.’
Was this how she wanted her life to be—a negotiation, a series of bargains? It reminded her that Aston wasn’t the man of her fantasies. A sense of powerful disappointment hit her once more. The main of duck, which at first she’d thought was delicious, now seemed dry and tasteless. This—running away together on a magnificent yacht with a man so handsome it could break her heart—should have been everything she’d dreamed of. She hated that the reality was all so artificial, so hollow.
‘How romantic.’
‘What about this—’ he motioned to the table ‘—isn’t romantic?’
‘Because it’s contrived.’
She couldn’t escape the stabbing sense of unfairness that this would never be more. Even if she wanted it to be, he’d talked about a convenient relationship without love being freeing. What if she wanted the love?
‘Romance is one of the most contrived things on the planet,’ he said. ‘You think otherwise? Why? You were prepared to marry Caspar Santori, and don’t tell me that had anything to do with romance.’
When would people ever stop reminding her of it, as if her inability to marry the man was a kind of personal failing? ‘That’s different.’
‘How? Explain it to me.’
Her problem was, she hadn’t been attracted to Caspar. Aston, on the other hand... Tonight he was dressed in casual chinos which hugged his narrow hips, his shirt gripping the hard planes of his body and his broad shoulders. Maybe everyone was shallow and all that mattered was how they looked, the objectification.
Yet Caspar hadn’t done to her what Aston did whenever he was near—didn’t cause the frisson of pleasure and expectation that seemed to ripple through her at his attention. His mere presence causing goose bumps to sparkle across her skin. And when he looked at her, truly looked, the heat threatened to scorch her.
Being near Aston Lane was like sitting too close to a bonfire. She was bound to get burned.
‘Princess, you could destroy a man’s ego if he didn’t have a healthy one. You devour me with your eyes, yet spit me out with your words.’
Was that what she wanted? She wasn’t sure of anything any more apart from the need to get away. She’d been trapped this morning and going with Aston had seemed like the best worst choice.
She couldn’t sit here any longer, not with the flowers on the table, candles and string lights. The place was dressed up for romance, the pretence making a mockery of the word. Ana stood, making her way to the stern of the yacht. They were clearly a fair way offshore, but the lights on the land hugged the horizon. She wished she could be there, feeling grounded, rather than this sensation of being cut adrift.
‘When people try to escape it usually fails, because what they’re running from is most often themselves,’ Aston said. His voice was close behind her, so he must have followed from the table. She gripped the yacht’s railings to tether herself. It was as if he saw her better than she saw herself.
What if she agreed to marry him, what then? She’d have to expose herself and if Aston was revolted by her scars, rejected her, where would she be? She wasn’t sure she’d survive it.
‘Have you ever been in a situation where your choices have been taken away?’ she asked.
‘We’re all constrained in some way, whether in reality or of our own making.’
‘I have trouble accepting that where you’re concerned.’
Yet his words had sounded so heavy, like a dead weight dragging him down under the waves.
‘Everyone has their shackles, Princess, yet most people are blissfully unaware of what holds them back.’
She turned. He stood there, so tall, so imposing, seemingly strong and solid. To look at him she wouldn’t sense there was a single crack in him, yet every word suggested chinks in his armour.
‘What are yours?’
His expression changed fleetingly. It was almost as if he winced, as though recalling something painful. He didn’t seem present. There was a distance to him, as if he was far away somehow, all the while standing in front of her.
The silence stretched. She was about to say his name, to bring him back from where his memories seemed to have taken him, when a gust of breeze blew. Aston’s eyes flicked to her temple. She reflexively moved her hand to check her fringe. He was too quick, gently grasping her wrist in one hand, the other reaching out to brush her fringe out of the way, exposing the ugly scar. She turned her head, her heart beating a sickening rhythm, the bile rising to her throat. His question would come. How much to give away in answering it?
Aston let her wrist go, as if her touch burned him.
‘What happened to you?’
She couldn’t look at him. She wouldn’t allow herself to see the pity on his face. She’d seen enough of it to make her sick to the stomach. Still, Ana had to give him some answer. He didn’t need the whole story, just a simple truth.
‘It was a car accident.’
‘When?’
‘A little over six months ago.’ Just after the Spring Ball.
‘I didn’t see anything in the press.’
She kept her eyes downcast, focussing on his shoes instead—deck shoes, she mused.
‘It was there, for a while. It wasn’t big news.’
All lies. Her parents had paid a small fortune to kill the story, and had bought the most egregious pictures. Though if someone knew what they were doing and looked hard enough she suspected it would be easy to find. The Internet was for ever, after all, so the royal press secretary continually reminded her. Still, not all the stories could be suppressed, like the lies about her being a party girl, avoiding her responsibilities. They continued to follow her...
‘Do you have other injuries?’
‘I had some. They’re better now.’ Carla hadn’t been so lucky...
Aston slipped his hand under her chin and tilted up her head. She didn’t want to meet his gaze but didn’t want him to think she was afraid either. The conflicting sensations warred within her. She wanted to break away, to flee, but there was nowhere to go.
‘Is this why you asked whether I could keep you safe?’
His voice was filled with empathy, yet with a core of steel. The look on his face wasn’t one of pity, but of resolve. He might have told her about his brother, yet she sensed there was so much about him that he held back. Why should she be the one to have to share everything when it was clear there were things he didn’t want to disclose?
She jerked her head from his grip. If she told him about Count Hakkinen and he didn’t believe her, she wasn’t sure what she’d do. It would be another wound she’d have to recover from.
‘I think I’m done eating now, and I’m very tired. I’d like to return to my room.’
Aston frowned. ‘Ana, you...’
She held up her hand, invoking an attitude even her mother would have been proud of.
‘“No” is a complete sentence, Mr Lane.’
He had the good grace not to follow her as she walked away.