Chapter 10 #2
“Sometimes I feel that way when I visit the palace archives,” he said.
“So many princes went before me, and so many will come after me. I’m just a cog in the machinery of Caleva’s ruling family.
Whether I’m competent or not doesn’t matter.
I will still be el Principe de los Lirios by the chance of my birth. It keeps you humble.”
“Number one, you’re a pretty important cog,” Erica said. “And you’re more than competent. You’re right up there with your father as one of the best.”
“Ah, yes, fathers.” Again, she heard that odd note. “You said you chose differently from yours?”
She twirled her knife between her fingers, watching it flash as it moved. “I disappointed my father from the day I was born because I wasn’t a boy.”
Raul made a sound. She lifted her gaze to see his brows drawn down in a scowl.
“I know. It wasn’t fair to me,” she said. “But that didn’t keep me from doing everything I could to win his approval. I didn’t stop trying until, well, we had a big fight when I was about to graduate from high school.”
Her father had announced that they were moving to the United States because the Navy had offered him a job there.
Her mother had begged him not to take it because her family and friends were in Caleva.
He spent all his time at the naval base, so she needed her support network.
Her father had dismissed her concerns and, in his harshest tone, informed her that his decision was final.
Erica watched her mother collapse into hopeless sobs, shoulders shaking as she hunched over on the sofa.
Something inside Erica broke open, and anger erupted out of it.
She shoved up from the armchair where she’d been watching the scene unfold and stalked over to her father in his ugly recliner, standing so that she could look down on him.
“All you think about is yourself,” she hissed. “You go. Mama and I are staying here.” And she walked out of the room, shaking with fear of how he would react to her disrespect.
Her father had been furious and punished her by taking away her phone and grounding her for a week, but she’d heaved a sigh of relief because it could have been much worse. Even more surprising, he had never said another word about the job offer.
“After the fight, I realized that I could make my own decisions about my life,” she told Raul. “It was healthier not to follow in his footsteps, so I took to the skies.”
Not to mention the tiny problem that she was terrified of the ocean, a fear that still filled her with shame.
“But you don’t get to choose, do you?” she asked as the realization struck her.
“Maybe it’s bred into the genes, but I’m lucky. I like my work…most of the time,” Raul said. “That’s why I hate sitting around here, doing nothing useful.”
“Just because you enjoy your work doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take a break,” she said, thinking about the queen’s worries. “You’ll come back to it refreshed and excited.”
“Assuming I don’t die of boredom in the meantime.” He made a face before he took a bite of lobster. A sheen of melted butter on his bottom lip made her want to lick it off.
She focused on cutting the filet mignon, which was so tender she didn’t need the knife at all.
“I am not bored right now.” His voice held a purr of flirtation.
She switched to dealing with the lobster tail so she wouldn’t have to look up. Of course, it had already been cut away from the shell. She popped a morsel in her mouth and closed her eyes as she savored the fresh, perfectly cooked white meat. “So good.”
When she opened her eyes, he was sitting back in his chair, watching her. The reflected candle flames seemed to dance in his pupils.
“Will you go climbing with me again after Gabri and Quinn’s wedding?” he asked.
“Whenever el duque doesn’t need me, sure. It would be an honor.” Even if he hadn’t been the prince, she would have jumped at the chance.
He huffed out a sigh of irritation. “You can say no. It’s not a royal command.”
“I love to climb, and you’re an excellent student. Next time, maybe we can do a traditional climb where we set our own anchors.” This was safe conversational territory.
His smile lit up the room. “ Genial! That would be great.”
“But you have to make sure your ankle is fully healed.” Maybe that would make him more compliant as a patient.
He waved that away and peppered her with questions about climbing as a team without preset anchors. Here was something she could be grateful to her father for. He had drilled her over and over again on how to climb safely.
“Are you ready for dessert?” Raul asked after their plates were empty.
“I swear I can’t eat another bite.” She laid a hand over her stomach.
“Marta made her special silk brownies. They’re a brownie on the bottom, something like a smooth chocolate mousse with a touch of espresso in the middle, and whipped cream on the top.”
Erica groaned. “How can I resist one of Marta’s creations? She’s a genius. Could we maybe take a breather and then have dessert?”
“A brilliant idea! It will make you stay longer.” His flashing smile was pure pleasure.
He wanted her to stay! Happiness fizzed in her veins. “Twist my arm.” She picked up her plate and stood.
“Leave the plates. We’ll have dessert in the living room when you’re ready.” He leaned down to pick up the crutches and shoved his chair back. “Would you bring the wine and the glasses?”
He was up on his crutches before she could offer to help him, so she scooped up their empty glasses and the second bottle of wine they’d started on. She had been careful not to drink too much, so the prince had imbibed most of the first bottle.
“You balance well on crutches for a man who’s had a fair amount of wine,” she observed as she walked beside him to the seating area.
“Practice,” he said. “State dinners include a new wine with every course. It helps to get through them without strangling the old fart sitting beside you.”
He didn’t usually joke about his work, so she threw him a surprised glance.
“I don’t like everything about my job,” he said. “That’s why it’s called a job. There must be some part of piloting Gabriel’s jet that you don’t especially enjoy.”
“Hmm.” She set the glasses and bottle on the coffee table. “The paperwork can get tedious.”
Raul maneuvered between the coffee table and the sofa before lowering himself onto the cushions. Lifting his injured foot, he rested it on a pile of magazines on the tabletop.
“Let me get you a pillow to cradle your foot,” Erica said, starting around the table’s corner. As she did, Raul’s crutches slid sideways off the cushion beside him, hitting her right at the ankle. She stumbled and pitched forward between the table and the sofa.
“Mierda!” She tried to twist in midair to avoid falling across his outstretched leg and damaging it further.
Raul grabbed her waist and pulled her toward him so she fell with her torso across his lap, her forearms braced on the sofa beside his thigh to try to keep her weight off his vulnerable leg.
“Oof!” The air got knocked out of her lungs while a flush of embarrassment heated her neck and cheeks.
“I’m so sorry,” she muttered into the cushion.
She tried to figure out how to extricate herself gracefully from the awkward position of lying face down across his lap with her foot still tangled in the crutches.
“It was entirely my fault,” Raul said. “I know those damned crutches are a tripping hazard. Let me get them out of the way before you try to move again.”
She forced herself to hold still when every instinct screamed at her to get up out of this humiliating position. Even worse, she felt the press of his thighs against her stomach as he shifted to work on the crutches.
“I need to take your shoe off,” he said.
“Go ahead,” she said, turning her head so she wasn’t speaking into the couch. Now she could see the length of his propped-up leg encased in the fine wool and was grateful she hadn’t fallen hard on it.
Then his fingers circled her ankle as he eased off her pump. Carajo! His touch was warm and firm and sent a wash of tingling sensation up her leg. When her shoe came off and the air hit her skin, she felt weirdly naked. Then she felt the cold metal of the crutch as he moved it, and she shivered.
“Am I hurting you?” he asked, his grip still solid on her ankle as he stopped moving.
“No, not at all.” God, she wanted to get up. No, she wanted to stay here. Maybe he would run his palm up her leg and…
He fitted the shoe back onto her foot. She stifled a hysterical giggle as she thought of Cinderella.
“There,” he said, releasing her. “You’re safe to get up now.”
She pushed up onto her hands and knees and then rocked back to get one foot on the floor, bringing her face close to his.
“Or…” His intense blue gaze slid to her lips. “You could sit beside me.”
She froze, torn between lust and sanity.
“Forget I said that.” He shook his head. “I was thinking of that evening on our camping trip when you fell asleep against me. I felt so close to you then, so connected.”
That tugged at her heart and tipped the scales toward lust. “Sitting beside you would be… my pleasure.” That sounded stupidly formal. “I just need to…” Get myself to the other side of your lap.
“ Bien , let me help.” He took hold of her waist, his fingers curling into her with a strength that was weirdly exciting as he lifted and turned her.
He set her on the cushion beside him with one leg curled underneath her.
His grip lingered, and she hoped he would pull her against him, but after a moment of stillness, he slid his hands away and sat back.
She sat facing his profile, catching a tension in his jaw and wondering what he was thinking. Wondering if he was feeling anything like she was.