Chapter 16
Erica steered her car into the parking lot by the private hangar at San Ignacio International Airport. Turning off the ignition, she stared at the corrugated side of the huge structure.
She needed to get her head straight because she was taking Gabriel’s jet on a shakedown flight after the heavy maintenance it had undergone. She had to be totally focused.
Yet all she could think about was yesterday with Raul. Pain struck at her gut again.
She’d known their fling wouldn’t last. She had tried to brace herself for the inevitable end. It turned out she had done a shit job of that. The loss ached like the world’s worst hangover.
Even worse, it had ended in such a hurtful way. How could Raul not trust her? That twisted the blade even deeper as it hit her pride along with her heart.
She took a deep, shaky breath and yanked her thoughts in another direction.
She was still in shock about the truth of the new princess’s birth mother.
Odette Fontaine was the most-hated person in Caleva because of what she had done to Erica’s beloved boss, Gabriel.
Erica knew the prince had been the real target of the kidnapping and gruesome mutilation.
And Raul paid for it with his terrible burden of guilt.
What she couldn’t understand was why Fontaine hadn’t told the media. It seemed inconceivable that Fontaine wouldn’t want to tell the world who her daughter was. Maybe she had some maternal feeling toward Grace and kept silent to protect her daughter.
Erica shook her head. She tried to imagine the supremely controlled King Luis having a fling with a psychopath. A fling so passionate it had resulted in a child. Of course, he had been younger then.
That circled her thoughts right back to the worst part of the revelation. The horror in Raul’s eyes at the fact that he had spilled the shocking secret to Erica.
She banged her head on the steering wheel. She hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours, which didn’t help her mental state.
She grabbed the huge travel mug of black coffee she’d poured before she left and swallowed down the last few gulps.
Today, she would have to depend on her copilot, Bertrand Laplage, to be sharp, because no amount of coffee seemed to help control her pain.
Four hours later, she steered the sleek aircraft back into the hangar while Bertrand jotted a last note on his tablet.
“The jet’s in good shape,” he said. “Ready for taxi service and the honeymoon. That will be a very nice vacation for all of us.”
Yeah, sitting on the beach of a private island in the middle of the Caribbean Sea with nothing to do but wallow in misery over Raul was her idea of a good time.
“Our first taxi ride is to New York,” she said, checking her tablet to wipe the thought away. “Two days from now.”
The “taxi ride” referred to picking up VIP wedding guests to whom Gabriel had offered a flight on his plane and hospitality at his estate. Most of them were musicians, which always made for an interesting trip.
“Then London,” Bertrand read off the schedule. “Followed by Madrid and New York again.”
Maybe the multiple flights would distract her from the torture of her heartbreak. She could fly manual the whole way, although Bertrand would think she had lost her mind.
She sighed and shut down the engines. “Let’s go over our notes with the mechanics.” And make the discussion last as long as possible.
Luckily, she found a couple of other pilots going out for dinner after work, so she joined them at a local hangout in San Ignacio. As they were trading war stories about the trickiest airports for landing, a text from a private number pinged into her phone.
A ripple of surprise ran through her. It could be from only one person.
I owe you an apology, but I’m tied up at a dinner. Please meet me at our usual place in San Ignacio. Ten o’clock? Sorry for the late hour.
Their usual place meant his habitación .
So many emotions ripped through her at the same time that she didn’t know which one was real. Blazing anger, raw pain…and a fizz of excitement that she couldn’t quell. She would see him again. In private.
She forced herself to wait thirty seconds before answering: I’ll be there.
The Crown Prince of Caleva was going to apologize to her. For not trusting her? She wasn’t sure she could forgive him for that.
She started when one of her dinner companions waved a hand in front of her face. “Control tower to Erica! It’s your turn to describe a crazy runway.”
Yanking her brain back to her surroundings, she managed to be coherent enough to get through the dinner before heading home to change her clothes.
It felt hauntingly familiar to drive through the private gate at Castillo Draconago. She had cut herself off from the alcohol flowing freely at dinner right after she received Raul’s text, so she was cold sober and roiling with nerves.
She got out of the car and slipped a navy blazer over her white silk blouse and gray trousers.
Yes, she had dressed up for this encounter.
She needed the mental armor that heels and businesslike clothing gave her.
If she could have come up with a semilegitimate excuse, she would have worn her pilot’s uniform, the most effective armor she knew.
A guard she hadn’t seen before greeted her politely and escorted her through the quiet hallways. Another guard opened the door to Raul’s apartment and closed it behind her, leaving her in the empty living room. Raul had texted that he was running late due to a couple of long-winded speeches.
The lamps scattered around the room were all turned on, bathing it in a soft, welcoming glow. Nothing was out of place. Of course. Raul had been out at dinner, so the staff had neatened it up in his absence.
She wanted to read the titles of the books on his bedside table, but going into the bedroom seemed too…intrusive, despite what they had done in his bed. She checked out the built-in bookcases that framed the fireplace, expecting them to be merely decorative.
But Raul’s books were not bound in leather with gilt lettering.
Paperbacks and hardcovers rubbed spines, some quite worn.
One shelf held well-read copies of Calevan history.
Another contained tomes on government and political science.
There was a section of philosophy and one with an interesting jumble of scientific topics.
And there were novels, some literary works like Don Quixote , and some contemporary thrillers and spy novels.
The glimpse into his agile mind brought a clench of regret to her throat because she would never get to discuss these books with him. She swallowed hard against the tightness, and then the door swung open.
Raul strode in, wearing a tuxedo that was tailored to highlight his broad shoulders, narrow hips, and long legs. With his sun-streaked hair gleaming above the stark black-and-white, he knocked the air out of her lungs.
“Erica?” He scanned the room before he saw her and pivoted. “Please forgive my late arrival. Too many people like to hear themselves talk.”
He tugged off his black silk bow tie and tossed it on a chair before he flicked open the top button of his shirt.
She wanted to tell him how magnificent he looked, but their relationship wasn’t like that any longer. “No need to explain. I’ve been in a few meetings like that.”
“Thank you for coming so late. My schedule was back-to-back all day, so this was my earliest opportunity to see you.” For the first time she could remember, he seemed uncertain. “Will you sit?” He gave her a tentative smile and swept a hand toward the sofa where they had first made love.
She flinched at the memory before she took a seat where he had indicated. Then she realized something. “No crutches?”
He sat beside her, leaving a few inches between them, and grimaced. “They’re too unwieldy at social occasions. My ankle is tightly wrapped.”
“And painful,” she guessed, pulling a cushion from the corner of the couch and setting it on the table. “Here, take your shoe off and put your foot up.”
“In a minute.” He swiveled to face her, his blue eyes dark with some emotion she couldn’t read. “I behaved very badly yesterday.”
“No, you didn’t. I had a wonderful time.” In fact, she had conjured up the last orgasm in the middle of the night when she couldn’t sleep anyway.
“Do not be polite when I was wrong.” He took a deep breath and locked his gaze on her face. “I told you a secret that was not mine to tell. A secret that could hurt people I deeply care about. But it was not your fault that I was so…so indiscreet. And I treated you as though it was.”
He took her hands, wrapping his long fingers around hers, the metal scales of his dragon claw ring pressing against her skin. “Can you forgive me for being an asshole?”
“There’s nothing to forgive.” But what did he want from her now?
Was this a goodbye apology? Or an I-want-to-keep-seeing-you apology?
She searched the elegant planes and angles of his face but could find no answer.
“I promise you that I would never reveal anything that you tell me about your family.” Her hurt made her continue. “You should know that about me by now.”
He winced. “I believe that, believe you , but I am not in the habit of sharing such sensitive information with…others.” He looked down at their joined hands for a moment before he lifted his head with a regretful twist to his lips.
“Unfortunately, I am going to be very busy in these days leading up to the wedding, but afterward, perhaps we could go rock climbing together again.”
This was how he was easing her into the breakup. He could have found ways for them to be together, no matter how busy he was. Like tonight’s late visit.
She had known it would happen, so why did her heart feel like it was tearing apart right down the middle? She blinked hard to keep the sudden excess of moisture brimming in her eyes from running down her cheeks.