Chapter Nine
CHAPTER NINE
S HE REALLY SHOULDN’T have been so thrilled at the turn of events.
For starters, she suspected her mother’s next call, a mere twenty-four hours later— ‘just to see how you are’ —had been part of the grand scheme that came with Azar’s gift.
She was touched, but also aware that until her mother gave her attention free of conditions, and until they cleared the air of past acrimony, she shouldn’t open herself up to it. And yet she ended the call with a lighter heart, feeling happier with their relationship than she’d been in a long time. Even hopeful that, in time, their interactions might be less transactional and more bond-forming. As much for herself as for Max.
But if she was so susceptible, what else would she fall for? Especially when it came to the man who commanded the very ground she walked on and who, it seemed, could pull miracles out of the air.
A little scared to contemplate that fully, she shoved it way down on her to-do list and prepared for her first ride with Azar, fighting the blush at the remembered double entendre .
A pair of white jodhpurs and a matching top, polished boots and an elegant little cap had been laid out for her by Silvia when Eden stepped out of her shower the next morning. At this point she’d already stopped being awed by the efficiency with which their lives were run.
Dressed twenty minutes later, she was transported by a sleek little electric buggy to an area of the mountain retreat where a row of stables and an open paddock housed stunning thoroughbreds.
And there, making her despair at just how incredible he looked, was Azar, dressed to ride. His white jodhpurs clung to muscled thighs, the black belt and polished boots bringing every line of his powerful body into heart-stopping relief.
He turned away from her to watch a stable hand walk out with two mounts—one a massive, shiny black beast with a swathe of white down its forehead, and the other a cream mare with an uneven splash of black and brown spots that made her all the more eye-catching. Despite the stallion’s size, the mare tossed her head repeatedly at him, in a brazen show of insolence that drew a huff from the other beast.
Eden was grinning at her antics when Azar took the reins of his stallion and turned. The snap of awareness thickened in the air, and her breath shortened in that way that screamed her pleasure at being the sole focus of his attention.
‘Are you ready?’ he rasped, after a charged scrutiny.
She was much too aware of the sensual roll of her hips, of the tightening of her skin, the clenching of her sex as she made her way over to him.
‘I’m not sure. As far as I can recall I’ve never ridden a horse before.’
Something flickered across his face, gone before she could decipher it.
‘We’ll take it easy on your first outing. Come, let me show you the basics.’
His instructions were succinct, and easy enough to follow. Not so much the scrambling of her brain as his hands slid around her waist to steady her as she placed her feet in one stirrup. By the time she was seated in her saddle Eden was hopelessly breathless, and thankful when, after another sizzling look her way, he turned to his own horse.
Since he’d laid out his conditions yesterday she’d wondered why he wanted her along for horse-riding—especially if she was an amateur. It ceased to matter the moment he mounted his saddle.
He looked magnificent .
Man and stallion were made for one another, the two so infinitely exquisite it was almost unbearable to look upon them.
‘Something wrong?’ he asked, obviously catching her gawping.
Shaking her head, she shivered all over again when one strong hand covered both of us.
‘She can be spirited when she wants her way, but she’s also my gentlest, most intuitive mare. I’ll take control if necessary. All you have to do is hold on.’
Firm, reassuring words she suspected held a deeper meaning.
Where she craved warmth, acceptance and safety, Azar craved control.
The knowledge didn’t so much render her breathless as she was already holding her own breath, searching his dark grey eyes. For what? A sign that the reasons her emotions remained caught in a maelstrom were no longer there? That the man who’d so coolly retreated after putting a ring on her finger to secure his son had somehow morphed into one who was open to the seismic feelings moving through her?
Even before her spirits fell, before the shutters came down over his eyes, she was kicking herself for her foolish yearnings. For harbouring hopes she had no right to. Yes, Azar had been considerate, even kind, but it had all been to facilitate his own goals. To control and ease the path for claiming his son.
In between trying hard to contain those emotions and absorbing the stunning vista unfolding before them, she didn’t realise how contemplative Azar had grown until he pulled both horses to a stop.
‘You’ve ridden a horse before,’ he told her. ‘In Arizona. That may have been your first time.’
The tightness to his voice snagged her attention. Her spine tingled with warning. ‘You… We weren’t together?’
His jaw clenched for a few seconds before he shrugged. ‘You were with Nick.’
‘I see,’ she said, then shook her head. ‘Tell me why it makes you angry to talk about Arizona. I need more. I don’t understand…’
For a long stretch he remained silent, his gaze on the far distance, tension tightening his shoulders.
The tiniest dart of pain at her temple made her flinch. Piercing eyes found her an instant later. Assessed her thoroughly, as if judging whether or not to divulge whatever he was withholding.
Eden fought the exasperation building within her. ‘Just tell me! I want to know everything. But if you feel so strongly about how it’ll affect me, at least tell me something about you and Nick. You claim you were friends, and yet I feel something else was going on.’
His hands tightened around the reins until his knuckles whitened. When his horse picked up on the charged atmosphere and whinnied he leaned forward, trailing a soothing hand down its strong neck until the stallion quietened.
It seemed almost unnatural for the formidable almost-King to be buying himself time, and yet it felt as if that was exactly what he was doing. That little glimpse of humanity attacked the vulnerable spot inside her.
‘Nick and I were friends,’ he eventually said starkly. ‘As much as two people could be while navigating their families’ hidden agendas and protocols. But he liked to play games.’
She took a moment to dissect that. ‘True friendship can cut through that, surely?’
A spasm of regret chased across his taut features. ‘I thought he’d outgrown it. But conditioning has a way of lingering, long after you believe it’s gone. And Nick couldn’t quite shake his.’
Again she drilled through his cagey words, her heart thumping as she wondered if he meant her, too. She remained silent.
‘He was taught to work at every relationship and come out on top. To win every power struggle.’ A hard-edged smile twitched his lips. ‘I made it clear he would never win a power play with me. That’s how our relationship at boarding school started. Putting our cards on the table cut through a lot of the nonsense.’
‘But despite all that he never quite stopped competing with you? And I just so happened to be caught in one of your games?’ she guessed, hoping it wasn’t true, but suspecting it was.
His gaze tracked the horizon, his jaw taut. ‘He insisted that since he saw you first, you belonged to him—despite ample evidence to the contrary.’
Heat surged into her face, but she refused to be bathed in shame. Refused to believe her mother’s neediness and desperation for affection had rubbed off on her just when she’d needed it not to. But considering this man— this maddeningly irresistible man —was the one she’d been battling against, could she be faulted for succumbing?
Yes . Still…
‘I didn’t throw myself at you,’ she rallied, clinging to the belief.
His imperious head turned, sardonic eyes lasering her where she sat in the saddle. ‘There was no need for you to go quite that far.’
‘Because you’re so well versed in zealous adoration you can spot it at a thousand paces?’
He shook his head, almost pityingly. Then his face closed. ‘We’ve been over this already, carina . It’s because I was twice as affected. Twice as enthralled. And I’m not ashamed to confess it was the first time it’d ever happened. So, sí , I was intrigued. Enough to decline stepping aside for my best friend.’
There went her stupid heart again, when he was only referring to chemical attraction.
Somehow she found the strength to raise her hand, bat that away. To remember that her mother had been a source of intrigue for her father once upon a time. Until he’d had his fill and cast her aside. A trend that had repeated itself with stomach-hollowing frequency.
‘So if I didn’t throw myself at you, and you had issues with Nick, why do I feel as I’m the vill—?’
‘You’re not Nick’s type,’ he cut in stonily. ‘I’m at a loss as to why he brought you to Arizona.’
‘Because a supposed two-bit gold-digger looking for a payout has no place in a billionaires’ playground?’ she asked bitterly. ‘Or should I leave the slut-shaming to Nick’s father?’
Azar’s eyes blazed, his body going rigid. ‘He did that?’
Her insides congealed at the memory. ‘When I contacted him…thinking Nick was Max’s father.’ Her mouth twisted. ‘He reminded me that men like my father truly are a dime a dozen.’
His face tightened. ‘Your father—?’
‘I don’t want to talk about him,’ she interrupted.
His gaze rested heavily on her for another stretch. ‘Then don’t,’ he said. ‘And, since I have first-hand evidence that you were the farthest thing from a slut, that should answer your question.’
She was still tussling with that when he sighed.
‘We’ve strayed too far into unadvisable territory. Once your memory returns we’ll pick this up from a position of greater understanding. Sí? ’
Push, pull? Support or manipulation?
Eden’s heart wanted desperately to believe this was Azar opening up and supporting her. But while those shadows and walls remained, and her memory was a locked box, how could she trust anything he said?
‘Yes?’ he pressed, when she didn’t respond.
She breathed in deep, her own gaze now locked on the vista so she wouldn’t have to keep pathetically searching his.
Was she not better off hedging her bets until such a time when she knew his true feelings? She’d seen the consequences of rushing in where fools didn’t dare, like her mother did, with only pain and hurt to show for laying her heart on the line.
So, even though her chest squeezed uncomfortably tight at that decision, she dragged her gaze to his, pleased when her composure didn’t crack, and nodded. ‘Of course.’
And surely she misread that tiny flicker of disquiet in his eyes? His slow exhalation that seemed wrapped in the faintest dismay? Because from that moment on, as he expertly conducted a tour of the verdant mountain, it was almost as if they had been in her imagination.
* * *
They slid ever deeper into their roles of Crown Prince and consort, their well-oiled machine presenting a united front, sending even the irascible palace council into muted rhapsodies. Headlines around the world hailed theirs a fairy tale union for the ages, and Max was soon garnering his own adoring following on social media.
And as one month galloped into another Eden learned to live with the thorn in her heart, ignoring the fact that it grew larger every time Azar watched her for one second too long with those shadows still in his eyes.
She even convinced herself she had her every emotion contained.
Until one month after the wedding and several days after Azar’s official coronation, with her as his queen.
The last of the dignitaries and the extensive Domene family had left, the barricades taken down from the roads where thousands had celebrated Cartana’s most triumphant royal event to date.
Spotting Gaspar rushing towards them on their return from dinner with Azar’s worryingly more frail father, Eden exhaled, eager for relief from the constraints of being on the whole time. Because even now her assistant trailed after her, reminding her that she was yet to confirm a date for the exclusive interview she’d agreed to with Rachel Mallory.
‘Let’s pick this up tomorrow,’ she said firmly.
Then her heart lurched when she saw the uncustomary pinched concern breaking through Gaspar’s composure. When Eden’s gaze dropped to the fingers drumming against his thigh, alarms bells shrieked within her.
‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ she demanded.
Azar, who’d been on his phone, quickly ended the call, striding to her side as alarm clogged her throat.
‘Gaspar?’ The demand was clipped. Imperious.
‘Your Majesties, it’s about the young Prince—’
‘What about him?’ she screeched, only then taking in the tension amongst the staff hurrying back and forth through the immense palace.
Gaspar looked as close to distraught as she’d seen him. ‘His nanny is on her way, but it seems he’s gone missing.’
‘What?’ Sheets of ice wrapped around her soul as she shook her head, unable to fully compute what was happening. ‘When? How?’
Strong fingers wrapped around her wrist, lending her a warmth she wasn’t sure she had a right to accept. Not if her child was in danger and she’d been sipping fine wine at dinner.
Eden recognised abstractedly that she was hyperventilating, her heart going ten thousand miles a minute. But she couldn’t stop it. Fear had taken hold of every atom of her being.
‘Eden.’
The word came sharp and piercing. Commanding her attention. Her eyes met Azar’s, imploring him to send his strength into her.
‘He will be fine.’
‘Y-you don’t know th-that. Oh, God! What if…? What if…?’
She tried to whirl away from him, to compose herself enough so she could think. He stopped her, tugged her hard into his body, wrapping her tight in his strong, warm arms. He held her long enough for a layer of fear to dissipate. Then he captured her chin and tilted her face to his. His eyes blazed with authority and implacable determination.
‘He hasn’t been harmed. I will never allow that to happen. Do you hear me?’
Her head moved independently of her fracturing thoughts.
Gaspar cleared his throat. ‘Every guard and staff member in the palace is out looking for him—’
‘Then w-we should go out there too—looking! We can’t just stand here doing nothing!’
She wanted to scream when Azar shook his head. ‘We will. Right after we talk to Nadia. We’ll find him, tesoro . And he’ll be fine. Do you hear me?’ he repeated.
Her nod was shaky at first, but the pulses of sheer resolute faith vibrating off him slowly seeped into her. She nodded more firmly, and when he lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers, in a hard, reassuring kiss, she felt another layer of panic recede.
‘Your Majesties…’
Nadia’s hesitant voice pulled them apart, but Azar didn’t release her completely. He kept an arm around her waist as they faced the nanny.
‘Have you found him?’ Eden blurted.
Even before the young girl shook her head Eden saw the truth in her stricken face.
Calm down. You’re no use to Max in full panic mode.
She sucked in a steady breath, shaking her hands free of tension before she clamped them tight again.
‘When did you notice he was gone?’ Azar asked.
‘I put him down an hour ago, and went to check on him fifteen minutes ago. H-he wasn’t there. I’ve looked everywhere I can think of.’
A broken moan wrested itself free from Eden’s throat. But, as much as she wanted to burrow into Azar’s chest and sob her terror, she forced herself to think.
‘Tell me what you were doing in the two hours before you put him to bed.’
At Azar’s questioning look, she met his gaze.
‘If he’s excited about something, it’s the first thing he does or talks about when he wakes up.’
The nanny swallowed and nodded. She was trained to maintain her composure, but Eden could see it fraying beneath Azar’s piercing regard.
Freeing herself from his hold, she grasped Nadia’s arm. ‘It’s okay. Just stay calm and tell me.’
Nadia’s gaze latched onto hers, her forehead faintly creasing. ‘He didn’t want to go to bed, so I made a list of all the fun things we would be doing tomorrow.’ Her eyes darted to Azar. ‘He was looking forward to swimming with you before breakfast.’
Azar’s nostrils pinched, and the skin around his mouth whitened briefly, but he didn’t speak.
Nadia’s eyes darted back to Eden. ‘I also promised him we would visit the mini maze tomorrow and play hide and seek with his toys.’
A jolt went through her. ‘Hide and seek is his favourite game. If he woke up thinking about it…’
Another sob threatened. The thought of her baby wandering the grounds at this time of the night…risking getting hurt. Or worse…
‘Let’s check his room again,’ Azar barked, already striding away.
She chased after him, catching up as he entered Max’s suite and crossed into the vast play room attached to the bedroom, searching for anywhere a toddler might hide.
For a cursed moment Eden wished they didn’t live in a palace—a place with hundreds of places for her son to play, blissfully unaware that his parents were tearing their hair out.
‘Max?’ she called. Her voice wobbled horribly.
Silence.
Three minutes later they’d searched every inch of his rooms, calling out with no success.
Eden’s panic surged again when her gaze snagged on the window, latched but slightly ajar. They were on the second floor… Was the space wide enough for a child to slip through? God…he wouldn’t…
‘No.’
Azar said the word through clenched teeth, but he still strode to the window, tugged on it. When it didn’t give immediately, he pushed it open and looked out. She saw his shoulders sag as he exhaled.
‘No,’ he murmured again, softer this time. With an unmissable tremor.
Relief and gratitude flooding her, she whirled about. ‘He wouldn’t have made it to the maze all by himself. Not without the guards seeing him.’
Please, God, let him not have attempted it.
‘Never,’ Azar agreed. ‘Our suite?’ he suggested tightly.
Every inch of their bedroom and their living and dressing rooms had been searched ten minutes later.
Eden felt fresh darts of pain lancing through her temple.
‘Your Majesty?’
She turned at Nadia’s hesitant voice. ‘Yes?’
‘Maybe the aquarium?’
‘But the aquarium’s on the other side of the palace. Surely he wouldn’t have made it there on his—?’
‘Your Majesty.’
Eden turned, her teeth gritted at the relentless formal title. Ramon, Azar’s head of security, stood behind them, a tablet in his hand.
‘Yes?’ Azar bit out.
‘We may know where he is—’
‘Then spit it out, Ramon. Where’s my son?’ Azar grated, his composure fraying just that little bit more.
The King who craved control was seeing it decimated before his very eyes.
Eden wrapped her fingers around his, pressing into him the same strength he’d infused her with. She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he stared his security chief down.
Ramon held out the tablet. And there on the screen was their son, hurrying as far as his little legs could carry him, dragging his tattered giraffe behind him towards…
‘The cinema room?’ Azar barked.
Nadia grimaced. ‘ Dios! I promised him a movie and a lollipop tomorrow if he ate his vegetables—’
‘Show me…please,’ Eden interjected.
Azar grabbed Eden’s hand tighter, and she almost had to run to keep up with him as they tore down far too many corridors to a door at the far end of their wing. She flew past him the moment he opened the door to the cinema, her feet muffled by the thick carpeting in the windowless, sound-proofed room.
There, on a plush velvet lounger set before the giant silent screen, was her son, curled up with his giraffe tucked under his chin, one fist clutching a large strawberry lollipop. A whole plastic tub of confectionery had been spilled on the floor in his search for his favourite.
‘Dios mio…’ Azar muttered, shaken.
Relief electrified Eden, freezing her for a moment before, muffling yet another sob, she stumbled towards Max. She wanted to snatch him up, examine every inch of him to make sure he was okay. But he was sleeping so peacefully all she could do was lower her face to his cheek, run her fingers gently through his springy hair and just… breathe him in .
Beside her, Azar did the same, their faces almost touching as they kissed their son.
After an age, she managed to pull back when her tears threatened to spill onto him. Sitting back on her heels, she swiped at her face, but a handkerchief arrived in front of her. She looked up. Azar was staring at her with a fierce look in his eyes. She accepted the handkerchief, then watched him lithely rise to his feet, his shoulders lowering in another deep exhalation as the security team arrived in the room.
Ramon looked visibly relieved to see the young Crown Prince safe and sound. His gaze shifted to his boss as Azar turned to him.
‘First thing tomorrow—’
‘We’ll set up further security measures, Your Majesty,’ Ramon pledged, uncharacteristically interrupting his sovereign in his desperation to reassure him that this wouldn’t ever happen again.
Eden felt his gaze on her, including her in that pledge, but she was too absorbed in reassuring herself that her son was fine and unharmed to respond.
Another sob bubbled up, and Azar gruffly instructed everyone to leave. The moment the door shut behind them he gently scooped Max into his arms. He stirred briefly, then settled against his father’s chest. Azar’s other arm came around Eden and he murmured soft, soothing words against her ear in Cartanian as she sobbed quietly.
With relief for his safety.
With gratitude that, for the first time, she hadn’t endured a horrible experience alone.
And with sadness. Because too soon she would need to return to emotional solitude, suppress this yearning for love and a home even more.
‘It’s okay, tesoro . He’s fine.’ Azar’s lips found the corner of her mouth in a swift, firm kiss before he gripped her nape to angle her face towards his. ‘Let’s put him in his proper bed, shall we?’
Nodding brokenly, she held on tight to him as they returned to Max’s room.
Only to feel her spirits plummeting all over again when, in the living area of their suite, she saw who was waiting for them.
With every bone in her body she wished she could override politeness and keep walking. Her overwrought emotions still lingered on the surface, and this encounter was the last thing she needed.
‘I’m told you’re having trouble keeping track of your offspring,’ Azar’s mother drawled.
Despite addressing them both, her critical gaze remained firmly on Eden.
She looked extremely well put-together, considering it was almost midnight. Compared to her, Eden felt like a grape left too long in the sun—not fresh, almost entirely wrinkled. Grimacing inwardly, she was relieved when Azar, still cradling Max, turned to her.
‘Go on—I’m right behind you,’ he murmured, but he didn’t wait for Eden to leave before he answered his mother. ‘That “offspring” is your grandson. And if you’re here to express anything but support I suggest you leave.’
Queen Fabiana stiffened, her son’s tone leaving her in no doubt that he wasn’t in the mood for her antics. ‘I just came to see that he was okay, Azar. No need to be snippy.’
He took one more step towards her with a nod. ‘Thanks for your concern, but we’re all fine. Buenos noches , Mamá.’
Her face clenched at the blatant dismissal, and she shot Eden a venomous look, but once again Eden couldn’t bring herself to care.
The pain at her temples was intensifying.
She rubbed at them as they entered Max’s room. ‘I get why your mother doesn’t like me , but why does she…?’
‘Actively despise me?’
At her gasp, he smiled stiffly. ‘Long story short: she’s never forgiven my father for fathering other offspring. She wanted him to reject Teo and Valenti. Papá refused. I was caught in the crossfire of their battle until I was old enough to remove myself from it. She’s never forgiven me for forming a bond with my half-brothers and not taking her side in hating the whole world for what she deems her suffering.’
Eden frowned. ‘But…she was Queen. She had everything your half-brothers and their mother didn’t.’
His nostrils flared. ‘You have front row seats to the reality that wealth and a royal title don’t equal happiness.’
What he didn’t add, and what Eden suddenly realised, was the fact that his mother was the reason he craved control. Why he was so often aloof to the point of detachment. Perhaps even why he wanted to forge a different path for himself when it came to being a father to Max.
Suddenly her throat was clogging again, her heart clenching in understanding and in foolish, dangerous sympathy. Yearning…
Because if Azar was as broken as her… If her foolish heart forged a connection…
Swallowing, she held out her hands.
Azar placed Max in her embrace where, after a moment, he whimpered as he protested at her fierce cuddle.
He started to blink and wake. ‘Mama?’
‘Shh…it’s okay, baby. Go back to sleep.’
Letting go felt like the hardest thing, and she was grateful that strong arms wrapped around her once more after she placed him in his cot and they watched him settle back to sleep without a care in the world.
‘I’m not sure whether to ground him until he’s fifty or handcuff myself to him to ensure he never does that again,’ Azar admitted gruffly.
A broken sob-laugh slipped out. ‘Welcome to my world,’ she murmured, and then her breath caught when he tilted her face to his.
‘A world I’m finding I’m agreeable to inhabiting,’ he returned gruffly.