Modern Romance Collection July 2024 Books 1-4

CHAPTER ELEVEN

‘AMELIA?’

Later that day she blinked across at her mother, realised she was probably scowling and tried to school her features into something resembling an expression of calm.

‘Yes?’

‘Something is troubling you.’

Amelia looked beyond her mother, to the window through which there was a view of the street beyond the palace. Crowds had been forming for days now, lining up with flowers and fake crowns and flags, all waiting out in the summer sun to wave and catch a glimpse of the family as they left for the ceremony. By order of the King and Queen, in deference to the heat, guards had regularly been handing out water and ice lollies—but nothing was getting in the way of the festive spirit below.

Amelia wondered, if she were to move close enough, if some of that spirit might not rub off on her.

‘Amelia? Talk to me,’ Anna-Maria implored. ‘You hold so much inside yourself,’ she said, moving to stand beside her daughter. ‘You are like a closed book sometimes. I wish you would open up to me. I wish you would let me help.’

Amelia compressed her lips. ‘I can’t.’

‘Why not?’

Amelia closed her eyes, the tangle of emotions in her chest rolling painfully through her. She couldn’t talk about Benedetto. It was too new, too fresh, too confusing. She couldn’t make sense of it herself, so how could she explain anything to her mother?

But there was the other matter that had been plaguing Amelia since her return: her reason for leaving, her mother’s choices, and Amelia’s place in the family. How could she plan her future without understanding more about her past?

‘Mum,’ she said on a soft sigh, moving back to the table, curving her hands around a chair, bracing herself. ‘There’s no easy way to say this.’

Anna-Maria paled. ‘You’re leaving again.’

Amelia shook her head. ‘No. Yes. I don’t know.’

Anna-Maria nodded but her lip trembled slightly.

Frustration, shame, pity, love, worry. So many emotions bubbled through Amelia, she found it impossible to contain them. ‘I need to tell you something.’ And as soon as she said it, she knew she was right. She couldn’t keep running from this. The threat that Daniel might reveal something was still out there, but it was more than that. Amelia needed to be honest with her mother.

Amelia sucked in a deep breath. ‘Please understand, I’m not bringing this up to hurt you.’

Anna-Maria became very still, watchful.

‘I know.’

Anna-Maria’s expression didn’t shift.

‘I know you had an affair.’ She dug her fingernails into her palms. ‘I know he’s not my real father.’

Anna-Maria lifted a hand to her lips. ‘Oh, Amelia.’ She closed her eyes, her face pale. ‘This is why you left?’

‘In part.’

‘How did you find out?’

‘That’s not important.’

‘It is to me.’

‘Because you want to stop other people from finding out?’ Amelia asked, the words hollow. She was angry with her mother but also guilty for betraying this secret to someone so untrustworthy.

‘I found a photo and a letter. In a book in the attic. It was an accident but as soon as I saw it, I knew...’

Anna-Maria’s hand fluttered to her mouth again. ‘I thought I had destroyed everything.’ She shook her head. ‘You shouldn’t have found out that way.’

‘No, damn it, I shouldn’t. I felt as though I’d been shot. How could you keep this from me?’ She stood, frustrated. ‘But it gets worse, Mum.’ And now she’d started, she couldn’t stop. ‘I did something when I found out, something I shouldn’t have done, and I— Oh, God.’ She pressed her hands to her face. ‘This is all such a mess.’

‘Darling, darling.’ Anna-Maria rushed to her daughter. ‘What is it?’

‘I told someone,’ she whispered, scrunching up her face. ‘Someone I thought I could trust. A boy I’d been seeing. I thought we were in love...’

‘Daniel?’ Anna-Maria asked, plucking the name from the recesses of her mind.

Amelia nodded. ‘He blackmailed me. He has the DNA proof—’

‘What DNA proof?’ Anna-Maria asked, scandalised.

Amelia flushed. ‘I got him to help me run a test.’ She groaned. ‘I thought I could trust him.’

Anna-Maria nodded without betraying any emotion.

‘He said if I didn’t pay him, he’d go to the press.’

‘And so you ran away?’

‘I paid him off first,’ Amelia said. ‘But I didn’t think he was going to let it go so easily. I got scared. And I was so angry with you, and everything was so confusing, I just needed to get away. I couldn’t be here, knowing my whole life is a lie...’

‘It is not a lie,’ Anna-Maria denied swiftly, urgently. ‘The King is your father. In all the ways that matter, he is your father.’ Anna-Maria pressed a hand to Amelia’s cheek. ‘Do you remember I told you about your father and me, how something happened to make me realise how much I loved him?’

Amelia nodded.

‘That something was you. I was unhappy, darling, when the boys were younger. So was your father. We hadn’t yet learned how to be together. I was young and foolish and when another man flirted with me, I was flattered and allowed my ego to tempt me. It was a brief, meaningless affair, and we both knew that. It was over almost before it began. But when I discovered I was pregnant, and your father couldn’t have been the King, owing to his travel arrangements, I realised how stupid I’d been. What I’d put in jeopardy! And I realised then how much I loved him. I could not bear the thought of losing him, of embarrassing him, of ruining our family.’ She sucked in a deep, shaking breath. ‘But nor could I bear the thought of lying to him. Realising I loved him meant I needed to start our marriage with a clean slate, and so I told him everything. Everything.’

Amelia stared at her mother. This she hadn’t expected. ‘What did he say?’

‘Nothing, immediately. He left the palace, for three nights, and they were the worst nights of my life, believe me, until you disappeared,’ she added, shaking her head. ‘But he came back to me, and, Amelia, if I hadn’t already loved him, I would have fallen for him in that moment. Do you know what he did?’

‘What?’

‘He apologised to me. Your father apologised to me. For my infidelity! He blamed himself. He’d been ignoring me, he hadn’t known, hadn’t understood, how he felt for me either. He had seen that I was unhappy, but hadn’t realised he could improve things for me. He said that if I would give him another chance, he would grab it with both hands. That he would love you exactly as he did the boys, perhaps even more, because you were the catalyst for us turning this corner. He was not angry. He was not threatened. And he has not once, not one day since, brought up my affair. He has never shown any hint of resenting me, of blaming me, of regretting the choice we made that night.’

Anna-Maria leaned closer, tilting her tear-stained face towards Amelia’s. ‘And what’s more, he has loved you. Every day of your life, he has loved you. To him, you are his biological child. That’s all that matters, isn’t it? What’s in a person’s heart?’

Amelia bit down on her lip. Tears filled her own eyes, and love exploded in her heart, but it was more complicated for Amelia still. ‘I’m different from everyone,’ she said, shrugging. ‘Half of me is made up of a man I never knew, a man who died before I could meet him, who didn’t even want to meet me.’

‘Yes,’ Anna-Maria conceded. ‘But all of you was shaped by your father. Your philosophies, your humour, your strength, your determination. These are things your father has taught you, by being in your life.’

Amelia closed her eyes, nodded.

‘Oh, my darling. I’m so sorry you have carried this burden on your own for so long.’ She shook her head. ‘I’m even more sorry that you paid off that bastard.’

‘What should I have done? I couldn’t risk this coming out.’

‘Why not?’ Anna-Maria demanded defiantly. ‘We are not ashamed, Amelia. We are not scared. You are our child—in our hearts, we know that.’

‘But your affair—’

‘Was a mistake, a lifetime ago.’

‘I know. I just thought—I wanted to protect you all. I was scared.’

‘Amelia, listen to me. Your father is not the only person to know about this. At the time, we recognised there was a risk of discovery. We have notified a select handful of people, including the president of the royal guard, the prime minister’s office and a team of lawyers, engaged for just such a circumstance as this. But the most important thing for you to understand is that we love you. We always have and always will. We considered you to be a gift from heaven, and you have always been exactly that to us.’

It was purely by chance that the first person Amelia should see, when leaving her mother’s suite, was Benedetto. And that he should be alone, for just about the first time since arriving in Catarno.

Amelia’s heart gave a little thump before she could remind herself her heart had nothing to do with him, at least so far as he was aware. She walked towards him with the appearance of calm, his own expression impossible to read.

‘Hi,’ she said on a small sigh.

‘Your Highness.’

Her heart trembled.

‘I’m on my way to meet Anton,’ he explained, though she hadn’t asked.

But Amelia heard what he hadn’t said: I don’t have time now.

‘Okay.’ She looked up and down the corridor. People were milling about, but no one from the family, no one they knew. Still, she didn’t feel she could tell him about her conversation with the Queen. Not here. ‘I’ll see you tonight?’

There was a beat of silence. ‘I’ll be with Anton,’ he said. ‘The night before the wedding, and all that. His groomsmen are staying in his suite.’

Amelia’s heart dropped to her toes. ‘Oh, right,’ she said with a nod. Then, hating herself for sounding so needy, but at the same time truly needing to confide in him, ‘Can you slip away briefly?’

His eyes bored into hers, and his jaw clenched visibly. It was the last thing he wanted. Her heart twisted. ‘I doubt it.’

Amelia could feel tears threatening. She bit into her lower lip. ‘Okay. But if you can...it’s important.’

She waited for him to agree, to promise to come, but he simply smiled at her, in a way that didn’t reach his eyes. ‘Have a good day, Princess.’

And then he walked away.

It was almost midnight and she’d given up any hope of him coming. She knew she needed to go to sleep, or else she’d have enormous bags under her eyes that even make-up-artist wizardry couldn’t disguise. But then, just as she was pulling back the covers, the small side door to her room opened and Benedetto came through.

Amelia’s body responded immediately, every cell seeming to reverberate.

‘Hi,’ she said.

He dipped his head. ‘I don’t have long.’

‘Anton’s still awake?’

‘And just getting warmed up,’ Benedetto added with a grimace.

Amelia pulled a face. ‘It’s going to be a long night.’

‘Yes.’

‘I spoke to my mother,’ she said quickly. ‘I told her everything.’

Benedetto’s brow quirked. ‘Did you?’

She nodded. ‘It went...well, actually.’

His jaw tightened. ‘I’m glad for you, Amelia.’

But he was so cool. So formal! Her lips pulled to the side. ‘We agreed not to mention anything to Dad, or Rowan and Anton, until after the wedding. But then, we’ll talk to them.’ She lifted one shoulder. ‘No more secrets.’

Benedetto’s eyes swept over Amelia’s face and for a moment her heart stopped beating altogether. He looked at her with the same fierce possession she’d become used to. But he didn’t move to touch her, and she wanted that so badly. ‘You did the right thing.’

She nodded, awkward, and she hated that.

‘And Daniel?’ he prompted.

‘I told her about him, too. She said they’d always been aware this might get out. They’ve made various high-ranking officials aware, there are contingencies in place for these sorts of things. If I hear from him again, I’ll go straight to the palace police,’ she said, the relief immense.

‘Good.’

Silence crackled between them. Amelia felt as though she were being dragged over hot coals. She knew it was breaking all their rules to tell him how she felt, but at the same time, having seen the truth within her heart, she knew she had to be open with him about it.

‘Talking to Mum,’ she started, a little unevenly, ‘about her relationship with Dad, and how they fell in love, got me thinking.’ She hesitated. ‘About us.’

She wasn’t looking directly at Benedetto but she felt him stiffen. The very air around him seemed to throb with tension, but Amelia pushed on regardless, keeping her gaze carefully averted from his face.

‘Mum was saying that she fell in love with Dad slowly, and didn’t even realise it for a long time, until she almost lost him—because of the affair. It was being faced with what she stood to lose that made her face up to how she felt about Dad. And it made me wonder...’ Her voice trailed off, her eyes darting quickly to his face and then away again.

‘Wonder what?’ Benedetto prompted, not moving.

‘The wedding’s tomorrow.’ Her mouth felt so dry, she could hardly speak. ‘Are you still planning to leave afterwards?’

Silence crackled.

‘Sì.’

Amelia’s brow furrowed. ‘Is there no part of you that wants to stay?’

‘What are you really asking, Amelia?’

That was so like Benedetto, to cut right to the chase.

‘The thing is,’ she said, toying with her fingers, ‘I didn’t understand how I felt until recently. I knew you were different, that wanting you physically as I do is new for me, but on the boat it was easy to put what we were doing into a box and contain it. But here, in the real world, it’s different. My feelings for you are different. Or maybe they’re the same and I just understand them better.’

‘Amelia.’ Her name was almost a curse. She could hear his anger. ‘I have told you, from the beginning, what I could offer. And what I couldn’t.’

‘I know.’ She nodded jerkily. ‘But in the beginning, we were two different people.’

‘No.’

‘Yes. You changed me, and I think I’ve changed you. I don’t think you want to walk away from me.’

His jaw tightened. ‘Then you don’t understand me as well as you imagine.’

She ignored the pain whipping through her. ‘After Daniel, I never thought I would trust anyone again. I never thought I would love anyone again. But you showed me, every day we were together, how different you are, how trustworthy and dependable, how reliable and good.’

He shook his head. ‘Even if this is true, that’s not love. You’re just grateful I’m not going to sell your secrets to the highest bidder.’

She recoiled a little at his reductive summation. ‘You knew I was a princess but you’ve always treated me like a woman first, a human being. You’re the first person in my life to do that.’

‘Exactly my point. I’m different, and that’s novel for you, interesting, but it’s not love.’

‘Please stop trying to tell me I don’t feel what I feel.’

‘But you don’t.’ Frustration was evident in his tone. ‘You’ve deluded yourself, maybe because you need the distraction, because you were anxious about coming home, into thinking we’re in the middle of some great romance, but I’ve been telling you all along, it’s not that. It’s sex. Chemistry. And at times, friendship, yes. But not love.’

‘Are you so afraid to let anyone into your heart that you would actually try to tell me I’m imagining this?’ She waved her hand from her chest towards his. His eyes were unreadable; he was totally closed off to her.

‘Amelia.’ Again, he said her name with utter frustration. ‘Don’t do this.’

She flinched. ‘I think you’re scared.’

His throat shifted, but he didn’t answer.

‘You’re running away, just like I did. Well, let’s both stop running, Ben. Let’s stop running together.’

His nostrils flared. ‘You ran away; I’m just getting on with my life.’

‘And you don’t want me in it?’

‘Amelia—’

‘Say it,’ she demanded fiercely, moving closer, pressing a hand to his chest, so his eyes closed at the unexpected and incendiary contact. ‘Tell me you don’t want me.’

He lifted a hand, cupped her cheek, looked into her eyes, and everything stopped. They existed in a vacuum and a void, just the two of them. Amelia blinked up at him, her heart bursting to explode. Couldn’t he feel this? Didn’t he get it?

‘I want you to be happy.’ He drew his thumb across her lower lip, eyes following the gesture. ‘I want you to live the life of your choosing. I want you to forgive your mother and father, to find peace with your situation here.’ Her heart trembled. ‘But no, I don’t want you.’

It was like being shot. She almost stumbled back, but held her ground, right in front of him, one cheek in his hand, her hand on his chest.

‘You’re a coward.’ She whispered the accusation as a tear fell from the corner of her eye. Except he wasn’t. He’d been through the most unimaginable grief, he’d suffered intense emotional abuse as a child, had witnessed his mother’s abuse, had grown strong from that, had gone on despite it, and then he’d known the worst loss a person could live through, the death of a child, and had still managed to somehow rebuild his life, to go on, one foot in front of the other, day after day. He wasn’t a coward; he was brave, but everyone had their limits.

Or maybe he simply didn’t love her.

Maybe this was a fantasy, built out of her inexperience and a hopeful heart. Maybe being stranded with him in those intensely emotional circumstances had simply heightened everything.

She stared at him, waiting for him to say something, waiting for there to be more, to understand, but he didn’t. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering there. Her eyes feathered closed as her heart surged at the contact, and then he stepped back and the world turned ice cold.

‘The sooner I leave, the better. For both of us. You’ll realise, once I’m gone, that this was all just make-believe.’

She wouldn’t, and he was wrong, but she couldn’t keep banging him over the head with the truth. She’d told him she loved him, and he’d rejected the whole idea.

‘Have you ever felt like this before?’ she whispered, scanning his face, needing something. To know that this was special, that she was different. She hated herself for asking, but if he didn’t love her, at least he could admit she held a special place in his heart and mind.

‘This is what I do, Amelia,’ he said, the words strangely weighted. ‘I have short-term relationships and then I move on. That’s the life I have chosen; it’s the life I want. And not once have I lied to you about that.’

It was a form of torture. She took a step backwards, reeling, hating him then, as much as she loved him. ‘So you feel this for every woman you sleep with?’ she demanded.

‘I’m not going to talk about my private life in this context.’

‘God, Ben.’ She wrapped her arms around her chest, shivering. ‘You can’t even admit I’m different, can you?’

Silence. Silence that pulsed and pulled and scratched at Amelia until she was almost completely raw.

‘I’m truly sorry you feel this way,’ he said, eventually, not moving.

Amelia tilted a glance at him, and her heart fairly shattered. He was the love of her life, of that she had no doubt. But he was also intractable and stubborn. He wouldn’t change his mind. There was no point having this conversation—it would only hurt them both.

‘You should go.’

‘Amelia—’

‘What?’ She whipped around to face him, almost at breaking point. ‘What more is there to say? I love you. You don’t love me. You’re the single most important person I’ve ever met in my life; I’m nothing to you. Is that a fair summation?’

A muscle throbbed in his jaw as he stared across at her. ‘I don’t know what you want me to say.’

‘Yes, you do,’ she whispered. ‘But you’re right, this isn’t your fault; you’ve never lied to me. Not even now.’ Her lips twisted in an awful approximation of a smile. ‘Thanks for your honesty, at least.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t.’ She shook her head. ‘Don’t apologise. You’ve done nothing wrong.’ She pulled her hair over one shoulder. ‘This was all my fault. My mistake.’

His eyes bored into hers, long and hard.

‘I didn’t mean to fall in love with you. I really thought I could control this. I thought, after Daniel, I was safe from ever feeling anything like this for anyone...’ She blinked quickly to stem the threat of tears. ‘Please just go, Ben. There’s nothing more to say.’

Yet he lingered, watching her, and her nerves stretched and stretched until she couldn’t take it any more.

‘Go,’ she shouted, pointing to the door, finally wiping at her eye just as a tear fell. ‘I need to be alone.’

He hesitated before nodding once. ‘Goodnight, Your Highness.’

She waited until the door was closed before letting go of the sob that was heavy in her chest.

Benedetto didn’t go straight back to Anton’s room. How the hell could he after that? He strode through the palace, his face a thundercloud, his body tense, as though preparing for war, his heart ramming against his ribs as though he’d run a marathon. He exited through a side door, found his way to a courtyard and moved to the edge of it, stood with his hands on his hips, staring out at the lights of the city, unseeing.

She loved him.

The world seemed to stop spinning. Sweat beaded on his brow. It was his worst nightmare. It was everything he didn’t want.

What a fool he’d been, to think he could become involved with someone like Amelia and not have it get complicated.

She was so different from the women he usually slept with. Amelia wasn’t sophisticated and experienced, she wasn’t looking for a few nights of passion and then to move on. What was worse: she’d been in an intensely vulnerable position when they’d met.

He dragged a hand through his hair.

He’d told her at every opportunity that it was just sex, made sure she understood that he didn’t do commitment and relationships. He’d been so honest and upfront about that, but what did that matter?

Wasn’t the reason for his constant reminders to Amelia that he knew there was risk with her? That she was so different she wouldn’t be capable of understanding, truly understanding, the way he chose to live his life?

She’d had her heart broken, her trust shattered, and had chosen to stay alone afterwards, but Amelia’s heart was too good to be permanently on ice. She had too much love to give to withhold it for ever.

Whereas Benedetto had been broken in a way from which he would never recover. His heart belonged to Sasha, and always would. How could he allow it to beat for anyone else, knowing what would happen if he were to lose that person too?

He clenched his hands into fists by his sides.

He’d done the right thing by holding firm in the face of Amelia’s declaration, but that didn’t make it any easier. And it didn’t mean he felt like less of an A-grade bastard.

The sooner the wedding was over and he could leave this country, the better. Then they could both start getting on with their lives and forgetting this had ever happened.