Chapter Three #2
“I saw it, though. With Maryanne and her boyfriend,” I add as he arches a brow. “I overhead you helping him get another shot at proposing. Is there a secret romantic beneath that tough exterior?”
“Not in the slightest. I’m not a marriage kind of guy. Or relationships.”
“Just dating as many beautiful women as possible?”
One corner of his mouth tilts up. “Is that a crime?”
“Just an observation that, at least based on photos I’ve seen, you don’t mind female company.”
“Have you been researching me, Princess?”
I lift my nose in the air even as I try to quell the twin feelings of guilt over being caught and irrational jealousy of the half dozen women I saw pictured with him. “Due diligence given how much time we’re spending together.”
“Fair. Yes, I date. Casually. But,” he adds with a shrug, “if relationships work for other people, then let them be happy. Maryanne’s boyfriend obviously felt bad. Didn’t make sense to make him feel worse.”
I resist any further teasing. But I know what I saw and overheard.
It’s unsettling. I’m not used to kindness, haven’t been since my grandparents passed.
The only people I’d consider myself close to are some of the palace staff and the doctors and nurses at the hospital I volunteer at.
I’m grateful for those interactions, but they are the exception, not the rule in my life.
Of all the people in my life, Dominic Hawke is the last one I would have thought of as kind. The reality of it stirs the heat lingering after that quiet, dark chuckle.
We pass under another bridge. A couple is standing in the middle, the woman leaning into the man’s chest as he kisses her forehead.
Envy twists inside my chest. I might have a chance at finding a partner I can love and be loved by.
But I also know the chances are not in my favor.
Not only will my future prince consort be under a microscope from the palace and the public, but I’ll have to consider factors the average woman wouldn’t.
There’s also the factor of whether or not a man wants to even take on that role. There will be men who want more power, more money. Men who want the title and don’t care who they have to marry to get it. But there will also be men, good men, who don’t want the scrutiny, the demands.
Louis’s face pops into my mind. My first and only boyfriend and lover.
His father is a wealthy financier, one who provided funding for my father’s numerous projects.
When my father hosted Monsieur Bernard, Louis would often accompany him to the palace.
We got to know each other over the years, from playing in the gardens to sitting down to tea with my brother.
But it wasn’t until my first summer back from Oxford that he asked me out on a date.
We never had a passionate love like I read about in the novels I have my aide, Marilyn, order for me.
But I cared for him, and he cared for me.
I liked spending time with him, enjoyed the quiet moments we stole away from the public eye, loved being able to let my guard down and share my thoughts, even if Louis wasn’t always sure how to respond.
At least he listened, made me feel like a woman and not just a princess.
He knew me long before we became romantic. He was simple, safe.
I breathe in, try and fail to stop the pain wrapping around my heart. Once my role changed, the crown came between us. Louis didn’t care enough to put up with the media attention. I don’t blame him. Who wants to live their life in a house made entirely of glass and open for the world to see?
But I had hoped things might be different, that there would be at least one constant in my life amid the chaos that took over when I became heiress to the throne.
“You studied nursing.”
Surprised, I look up at Dominic. “I became certified as a nursing assistant, yes, before I went to university.”
“And an EMT.”
“Ambulancier, yes. Similar to the American version of EMT.” I smile. “I love being in hospitals, but ambulances were fun, too.”
Dominic chuckles, a low, gravelly sound that stirs something deep inside me. “I don’t know if I’ve ever heard anyone mention ambulances as fun.”
I wince. “I apologize. That was insensitive of me.”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Apologize. Not for having an opinion.”
If only it were that simple. Royal life has its perks. But it can also be constricting, require you to hide or even erase parts of yourself.
“What was fun about it?” he asks.
Shyness creeps over me. It’s been a long time since I talked about my passion for health care, let alone to someone who seems genuinely interested.
“The variety.” I glance up at the midnight sky, the distant pinpricks of light blinking against the velvet darkness. “You never knew what call was going to come in next. I got to help people have a better day when some of them were having the worst days of their lives.”
“And that’s important to you.”
It’s not a question but a statement, an observation that is far more pleasing than it should be. “It is.”
I hesitate. It’s odd to be sharing something so personal, especially with the man who’s controlled so much of my life these past two months. A man I thought to be a cold, unfeeling bastard.
Until tonight. I can think of at least two senior members of my security detail who would have most likely separated me from Maryanne immediately and not given me a chance to help. Add another three who would have told me I didn’t have to worry about her.
But Dominic trusted me, respected me enough to let me help.
For the first time in forever, I wasn’t alone tonight.
Much as I don’t like his methods, I never once doubted that Dominic would be there to help.
That surprising level of trust, coupled with the bone-deep loneliness I’ve been struggling to keep at bay, make me want to share just a little more.
“I spent a lot of time with both my grandparents when they were in the hospital.” Grief surges up again. It always does when I think about them. But I’ve talked about them enough over the years that I can hide it. “The nurses were always so great with both of them. I wanted to be just like them.”
“Was that what you were pursuing before you were promoted to Crown Princess?”
I laugh. “That’s one way of putting it.”
“What word would you use?”