Chapter 19
Daniil
Something shifted during our talk in the garden.
I can’t quite put my finger on what it is, but she’s a little softer now, less agitated.
Our conversation ran the gamut between brutal honesty and rare insight.
I never planned to admit there had been one time without a condom but in the moment, it felt like the right thing to do.
Maybe showing her a hint of vulnerability and honesty is what our relationship—such that it is—needs.
Now she’s in the bathroom getting ready for bed while I get Micah settled. He doesn’t seem to care that he went from his crib to the stroller and now back to the crib. He curls up, fisting his favorite blanket…the one with kittens all over it. And doesn’t move.
I kick off my shoes, eyeing the couch with distaste.
I’m six-four, so that couch isn’t going to fully support my large frame, but it’s a worthwhile sacrifice if it means Courtney can rest. It bothers me that she’s not comfortable here, that she doesn’t feel safe.
Trauma is a funny thing, though, sneaking up on you at the oddest times.
For years after my parents’ death, I would hear their voices in random places. A busy market. Alone in my room. While I was in bed with Jesper. They would come out of nowhere, and for a long time I craved those unexpected moments of clarity.
In retrospect, it was trauma. My brain desperate for a connection to the people I missed so much. Thankfully, there are videos and other recordings now that allow me to enjoy my parents’ voices when I want to hear them, and I don’t have to count on my subconscious freaking me out unexpectedly.
So maybe that’s what Courtney needs.
A way for me to show her she’s safe so she’s not always on high alert.
“Lie down,” I instruct as she comes out of the bathroom.
“Daniil…” There’s wariness in her voice, but I don’t think she’s actually afraid of me.
“I just want you to rest,” I promise. “Come on.” I motion to the bed, and she slowly stretches out. “On your stomach.”
This time she simply does what I ask.
I try not to stare at the curve of her ass or the way her fiery hair is a tumble of waves across her back. Instead, I brush it to the side and run my fingers along the curve of her shoulders.
“So tense,” I murmur, gently digging my thumbs into the tight muscles. She lets out a soft moan and I take my time, finding all the pleasure points. She doesn’t need some deep tissue massage to work on the knots—she needs to relax. That’s my only goal here tonight.
I press the heel of my palm along her spine and use gentle pressure all the way down, listening to the soft pops as I go. She really is a bundle of stress. Something I hope to change in the coming days. I want her to be happy here—see that she could have a good life, even if we’re not together.
Relationships have been a hard no for me since my divorce.
There’s just too much stress trying to find someone who appreciates the man I am.
Not the prince, not the statesman, just Daniil Gustaffson.
Son of a Limaji princess and a Swedish entrepreneur.
Princesses and socialites all over Europe—and a few princes as well—have done everything in their power to get my attention.
And I’ve just never felt any interest.
Until Courtney.
She doesn’t care that I’m a prince. If anything, that’s a deterrent to her.
At this point, I don’t even know if she likes me, but there’s something there or she wouldn’t be working so hard to push me away.
The danger and all the other issues we’ve discussed are just excuses.
Something else is driving her away and I owe it to both of us—not to mention our son—to at least make an attempt to find out what it is.
Because even after more than a year, the attraction burns as strong as ever on my end. And I think she feels it too. There was a moment out in the gardens where I would have sworn she wanted me to kiss her. The look came and went before I could really register what it meant, but I know what I saw.
Courtney seems much more relaxed now, and her steady breathing tells me she’s falling asleep.
I slide onto my side and tug her against me, her back to my front, and she moves into place willingly.
Using one hand, I run it up and down her arm, over her hip, and then make soft circles on her shoulder.
Before I know it, she’s fast asleep—and so am I.
* * *
My eyes pop open early, long before the alarm on my phone, which is in the other room anyway.
I can tell by the faint light that it’s probably around six, and I’d be getting up now in any case.
Courtney is still fast asleep, on her stomach, face half-buried in the pillow, hair a fiery halo around her head.
God, she’s gorgeous.
Sleeping next to her was pure torture, but sleep is the operative word here, because I know she hasn’t gotten any since she arrived in Limaj. And I intend to let her sleep in today. Micah can come with me to the gym and then the security briefing, if necessary.
I slide out of bed quietly and move around the suite as noiselessly as possible.
She always preps a bottle the night before, so I pull it from the fridge and make sure his diaper bag has all the necessary supplies.
I dig out his clothes for the day, extra diapers, and grab the box of cereal she uses. I can make him breakfast in my suite.
Before waking Micah, I write her a note and leave it on the pillow next to hers, taking a moment to appreciate how gorgeous she looks. If I had my way, she’d be in my bed every night, but I probably have to work up to that. For now, I consider this a win.
Gently waking Micah, who was already beginning to stir, I coo softly as I cuddle him to my chest. There is nothing better than holding my son first thing in the morning. He’s so warm and soft and he gives me a sleepy smile.
“Da da.” His toothless grin melts my heart.
“You and Dada are going on an adventure this morning,” I whisper. “So Mama can sleep.”
I strap him into his stroller, grab his bag, and slip my feet into my sandals.
Closing the door behind us as quietly as possible, we head for my suite so I can change into my workout clothes and get him ready for the day.
By seven, we’re at the gym and there’s a chorus of laughter when they spot Micah.
“Who’s your new friend?” Jonas teases. “Can we play with him?”
“He’s not a puppy,” I say sternly, though I can’t help but grin.
“He’s much cuter than a puppy,” Natalia gushes, hopping off the treadmill and running over to pull him out of the stroller. “Oh my gosh, I just want to squish him.”
I laugh. “Careful, Cooper—she’s getting baby fever.”
“God, no!” Natalia looks horrified. “I’m getting my baby fix and then I’m quite happy to return him to his mother.” She shudders. “Ryan and I have no time for babies at this stage of our lives.”
There’s more banter, and everyone seems to enjoy taking a turn holding Micah. Which is convenient since it allows me to get in a workout.
“I can do bicep curls with him,” Sandor says, laughing as he holds Micah by the back of his onesie and pumps him up and down a few times.
“You have your own kids for that,” I quip.
“How’re things going?” Sandor asks me once the novelty has worn off and half the gang has headed off to shower.
“Which things?”
“The Courtney thing.”
“It’s…better,” I say cautiously. “I found out she hasn’t slept since she got here so last night I stayed with her—platonically—and I think it helped. She was out cold this morning when I woke up, so I took Micah and opted to let her catch up on sleep.”
“What’s the end game, Dan?” He fixes me with the big-brother look that usually makes me laugh.
Today it’s a bit more meaningful because I know what he’s asking. Unfortunately, I don’t know the answer.
“I want her to stay.”
“You want her to stay or you want them to stay?”
“Her. Them. It’s the same thing.”
“It’s not. You can’t play games anymore, Dan.
Either you’re all in or you let her go. Because although I don’t approve of what she did, I do understand why she did it.
Your life comes with danger for both of them.
If you’re not in love with her, ready to be with her forever, then maybe the best thing is to let them go.
You’re not really going to do the long-distance dad thing. You can’t. And that’s not safe anyway.”
“You think if I don’t love her I shouldn’t be a part of my son’s life?”
He shrugs. “What do you think? Deep down in the part of you that understands what’s at stake—you know you can’t claim your child and be his father unless the two of you are together.
But it’s not fair to her to trick her into staying by pretending to love her.
You both deserve better. Getting married for a child is never the right move. ”
This is a scenario I hadn’t even considered.
The truth is that while I really like her, and want to see what we might have together, we need more time for me to fully understand the depth of my feelings for her since I already married someone I didn’t love the way I should have.
And I have to be sure that I can be faithful to her for the rest of my life.
Unless and until I can, I need to consider letting both of them go.