Chapter 22
Erica activated the airplane’s autopilot and leaned back in her seat, making the cuts on her side twinge. But that pain was nothing. What she had to brace herself for was the onslaught of misery that she no longer could distract herself from.
“You’re quiet this morning,” Bertrand said. “You okay?”
Her adventure last night had to be kept confidential, of course. So did her…fling with Raul. “Just kind of let down after all the buildup to the wedding,” she said, not untruthfully.
“Yeah, but now we get a week in paradise with nothing to do but drink pina coladas and bask in the Caribbean sunshine,” Bertrand said with relish. “Not a bad deal.”
Except that she would rather be naked in bed with Raul. Or fully clothed and eating dinner with Raul. Or camping in las Montanas de los Fantasmas with Raul.
There was a theme there.
She forced a smile. “When does Solange arrive?”
“Tomorrow, if she can fit all her new clothes in the suitcase.” He shook his head with a fond smile. “It was very generous of el duque to allow my wife to join me.”
Gabriel had also given Erica the option of bringing a significant other. She had a moment of bleak amusement as she imagined her boss’s face if she had told him she wanted to bring Raul. She was pretty sure the prince wouldn’t be allowed to stay with her in the staff housing.
“We work for a good guy,” she said. “And a very happy one.”
Gabriel and Quinn had looked barely awake but radiantly in love as they’d trudged up the steps to the plane.
Evidently, the wedding reception had gone on until the wee hours, with various celebrity musicians—including Kyran Redda—taking a turn at providing the music.
Erica was a little sorry she had missed that.
But she had helped save the dragon, so that was the trade-off.
She sighed as she remembered Raul’s last kiss.
It had been all too brief in the swirl of activity after the Guardia Maritima cutter had docked in San Ignacio.
But it had been deep and intimate as he banded his arms around her and held her hard against him.
When he had whispered, I’m sorry, mi corazón, she thought her heart would rip into pieces.
Because she understood exactly what he was saying. Had known from the beginning what the end would be, and yet, she had let herself fall in love with him anyway. Idiota.
She had gone home in one of the palace’s luxurious SUVs, while Raul had been obliged to return to the reception.
“ El duque deserves some happiness,” Bertrand observed, breaking into her unhappy reverie.
She nodded. “You have command of the plane. I’m going to go check with Lizanne to make sure everything’s okay in back.”
Bertrand gave her a puzzled look. She didn’t usually leave the cockpit except for bathroom breaks or to check on the passengers. There was no way she would be bothering the newlyweds right now.
“I’m in command of the plane,” he confirmed.
She unbuckled her seat belt, grabbed her cell phone, and exited, closing the door behind her as she stepped into the galley.
“Captain Ortiz!” Lizanne said. “May I help you with something?”
“Just checking in. Is the coffeemaker working all right?” They had recently upgraded to a fancier one.
Lizanne’s eyes lit up. “It makes fantastic beverages. Would you like a cappuccino? You’ll be amazed by it.”
“Thanks, I’ll have one at lunchtime,” she said, easing down onto one of the seats in the crew cabin. She scanned her cell phone for the first time since taking off and found three text messages had come in…from Raul’s private number. Her heart flipped as she swiped the thread open.
The first message had arrived as they were taking off.
Can we meet today? I want to find out how you’re feeling and update you on the dragon.
The next one was time-stamped half an hour later.
Following up to make sure you saw my previous text. Are you available later today?
The third one had registered ten minutes ago.
I understand you’re already en route to Kyran Redda’s island.
I’m sorry I missed you. If you’re flying, your wounds must not be severe, which relieves me.
Please take care of yourself, though. The dragon has been tagged and returned to her meadow in las Montanas de Fantasmas.
She appears to be undamaged by her adventure, although who knows about the psychological trauma?
The eggs are being incubated at the Centro del Dragón.
The experts felt they had been jostled so much that it would be better to take special care of them rather than burying them back in the wild to take their chances.
Mil gracias for your invaluable help in saving both mother and babies.
I wish I could tell the world about your role, but because of al-Buya, our rescue must be kept a secret.
As she finished reading the third text, another one showed up on her phone.
I thank you even more for understanding how important this was to me.
Tears welled in her eyes, and she blinked rapidly to fight them off. It was all too tempting to put her head down on the table and sob.
Because she understood too much.
She understood that they had made a true connection somehow.
As weird as it was, given their very different positions in life, she could read his feelings and even empathize with them.
Maybe it was because they shared the experience of larger-than-life fathers.
Maybe it was because they both believed in the importance of duty to others.
Yet she had rebelled, and he never would.
Never could . Perhaps she was his alter ego.
The person he would be if he wasn’t the prince.
It didn’t matter why. Her heart didn’t care about the reason. It just knew this was the man she loved with all her being. She choked down the sob trying to escape from her chest.
She had known she shouldn’t fall in love with the prince. Except she had fallen in love with the man—the fascinating, sexy, guilt-ridden man—behind Su Alteza Real, no matter how many times she had warned herself not to.
Imbécil!
There could be no future for them because he had obligations that she was well aware of.
He had to consider who would rule alongside him as the queen.
A woman who knew the players in the royal circle and could move among them with grace and assurance.
A woman like those at the wedding reception who wore priceless jewelry and designer gowns without even thinking about it.
Perhaps even someone who brought new power or influence to the Dragóns.
She was none of those.
The texts blurred as more tears filled her eyes, and the searing pain of loss lanced through her, making her double over, which pulled at the gashes across her ribs.
“Captain?” Lizanne’s voice was concerned. “Are you all right?”
She swallowed hard and straightened. “A little stomachache from too much rich food last night, that’s all. Nothing serious.”
“Ah, I have a remedy for that,” Lizanne said, disappearing into the galley and returning with a bottle of antacid tablets.
“Muchas gracias,” Erica said, accepting a couple. No harm in chewing on them to cover up her real problem.
The interruption had dried up her tears, so she could attempt to frame an answer to Raul’s texts.
That’s great news about mama dragon and her eggs. All back where they belong in Caleva.
She debated a moment but decided it was a legitimate question, so she added, Were you able to retrieve Halcón’s helicopter?
Did she have to respond to his final text? She reread it. Yes, she did.
We all have to do the things that feel right to us. I did nothing more than that. No thanks are necessary.
She hesitated a moment before she hit send .
Then she muted her phone and returned to the cockpit.
The moment Raul left the palace dining room at the end of the post-wedding brunch, he pulled his phone out of his trousers pocket.
Yes! A text from Erica.
He read it twice, looking for something he had no right to expect.
Growling in frustration, he responded, assuring her that the helicopter had been safely returned to her instructor.
His thumbs hovered over the screen as he longed to say things he shouldn’t.
He shook his head and shoved the phone back in his pocket before he typed anything stupid.
He limped through the corridors of the palace to his habitación, where he ripped off his tie and suit jacket and toed off his shoes before he threw himself onto the couch.
There was no Erica to gently set his foot on a cushion, so he kicked at the throw pillows until one tipped over to give him a place to prop up his painful ankle.
Damn Gabriel and Quinn for sneaking out before the brunch and taking Erica away.
Raul couldn’t believe his father had given the newlyweds permission to miss their own party, leaving Raul to play host to the younger wedding guests. Before Luis had married Eve, his father would never have allowed that.
Raul sighed, knowing he was being petty and selfish.
Eve was good for his father. She had loosened up some of his stiff formality.
However, this was one time Raul wished Luis had stuck to royal protocol.
He’d done his duty, though, chatting about how moving the wedding ceremony had been, Kyran Redda’s impromptu performance at the reception, and what the national futbol team’s chances were in the World Cup.
But his thoughts had been about Erica.
Not seeing her today—and worrying about the slashes from the dragon’s claws—had made his stomach hurt so much that he had just picked at the food on his plate.
One of his lunch companions had teased him about having a hangover after the party, a convenient explanation that he falsely admitted to as an excuse for his lack of appetite.
Now he desperately wanted a Scotch, but the bar was too far away, and his ankle throbbed because he had abused it for the past twenty-four hours.