Chapter 22
Max
I’m cocooned in warmth and comfort, my heart telling me this is exactly where I’m meant to be, right here, in this moment.
The cool of the night air has given way, and as I open my eyes, blurry in the soft morning light, I can hear the gentle patter of rain against the window, and the sound of soft, rhythmic breathing.
I let out a contented sigh, increasingly aware of a weight on my chest. I blink a few times as I look down to see a trail of golden hair across my shoulder like silk, an arm slung high across my belly, a hand placed loosely on my arm.
Fabiana is breathing in and out, in and out, a soft, steady rhythm that somehow manages to be both comforting and utterly exhilarating.
The wall of pillows is discarded on the floor, and somehow, in the night we gravitated to one another, becoming entwined in a way that makes me want to stay like this forever.
This is both the best and worst way I could start the morning.
Best because having her this close, having her breath against my skin, watching her face completely relaxed in sleep, is everything I didn't know I was desperate for.
Worst because I'm acutely aware that this is undoubtedly an accident of sleep rather than a conscious choice, and any moment now she's going to wake up, realize our current configuration, and probably leap out of bed in horror.
So, I’m memorizing every second of this. How she feels against me, the softness of her skin, her warm breath on my chest.
Despite my instinct to drop a kiss on the top of her head, to wrap my arms around her and hold her close, I don’t dare move. I don’t want this moment to end. I want to lie like this with her in my arms, together, our breathing synced, our hearts as one.
She shifts slightly, and I freeze like a guilty man caught stealing the crown jewels. I’m stealing moments of intimacy with her that don't technically belong to me.
Yet.
I’m determined to change that.
Yesterday was…well, it was like no other day I’ve had with a woman. We talked, we opened up, we shared parts of ourselves that I, for one, had never shared with a living soul before. And she understood. She got me.
She saw the real me—the private me, the parts of me I keep hidden—and she didn’t run away.
She stayed, even opening up to share parts of herself with me.
She held back. There are parts of her story she’s keeping locked away.
But I’m hopeful that in time, she’ll trust me enough to tell me what she holds close.
Now, here in our bed, in this rain-drenched town in the middle of nowhere, I’m closer to this woman in my arms than I’ve ever felt to anyone in my life.
She stirs and lets out a soft sound that reaches inside and tugs at my heart. She lifts her hand from my arm to rub her eyes and then raises her head to look up at me.
“Good morning,” I murmur softly.
Blinking, realization dawns, and her whole body stiffens.
The moment’s gone.
She pulls away, sitting bolt upright. “I’m sorry. I…I don’t know what came over me.”
“It’s fine. Really.”
She looks at me as though I had just told her the sky is green.
“You drooled on me,” I say with a smile.
Her mouth forms an O, which she instantly brushes with the back of her hand. “Oh, my gosh. How humiliating.”
“I think it’s cute.”
“Drool isn’t cute, Max.”
“Don’t tell Toffee that,” I reply, and my dog’s head lifts, her ears pricked as her tail begins to thump against the cushion.
Just as I feared, Fabiana leaps out of bed, pulling the blankets up to meet her pillow. “I’m going to use the bathroom. Good with you? Good.” She’s like a blur, buzzing around the room, collecting her clothes and darting into the bathroom.
Toffee and I share a look.
“Well, that happened,” I say, and she rushes over to me, her tail wagging. I pull the covers back. “Come on then, girl. I’ll take you outside.”
I throw on some clothes and take Toffee out. When we get back to the room, wet from the rain, Fabiana is dressed and packing her bag, her hair tied up in her usual ponytail, glasses back on. All signs of the woman who lay sleeping on my chest are now gone.
“We might not be leaving today,” I tell her as I remove my wet cap. “It’s still raining.”
“So, I shouldn’t pack?”
“Let’s get some breakfast and talk to the locals. They’ll have a handle on what’s happening.”
“Were you serious about pie for breakfast?”
“One thing you should know about me: I’m always serious about pie.”
She smiles, and it’s the first I’ve seen today. She slips on a jacket, and I pass her my spare cap.
Toffee trots along beside us as we make our way up the rain-soaked street to the bakery, which Fabiana located on her phone. Luckily, it’s open, and we shake off the rain as we head inside, the smell of fresh-baked goods making my belly rumble.
“This smells just like those pies did all those years ago,” she says, pulling her phone from her pocket and filming the scene.
The cabinet is filled with pies and pastries and colorful cakes, the wooden shelves above stacked with a variety of breads.
Fabiana removes her spectacles to wipe the rain away. “The problem with glasses.”
I snatch them from her and slide them onto my face. “How do I look?” I ask, grinning at her.
“Like a man wearing my glasses. Give them back.” She reaches for them.
I lift them up and down, looking out to the street. “These make zero difference. Did you know that?”
She claims them, slotting them back onto her own face. “That’s because you obviously need glasses.”
“Is that so?” I ask with a laugh. “That’s not what the Air Force says.”
She lifts her chin. “Do you mind if I film you choosing your breakfast?”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
She clicks on her camera as I make my way to the counter.
“Good morning, Your Royal Highness,” a woman about my mother’s age says from behind the counter as she dips into a curtsy. She’s got a round, smiling face and light brown hair, speckled with gray, tied up in a net.
“Good morning. I hope it’s okay that I’ve brought my dog in here. It seems cruel to leave her out in the rain.”
“Your dog is welcome,” she replies, and I note her name badge says Marlene.
“Did you hear that, Toffee? Marlene says you can be in here, but you need to behave yourself, or you’ll get all of us kicked out.”
Toffee looks up at me with eager eyes, her tail swishing from side to side across the wooden floor.
“Have you heard anything about the road today?” Fabiana asks.
“The fallen trees are being cleared this morning, and the forecast says the rain will let up later today, so we’re hoping the river will recede before too long,” Marlene replies.
“Does that mean we can get to Villadorata?” Fabiana asks.
Marlene gives a mournful head shake. “Not unless your car can transform into a boat.”
“Well, actually,” I begin only for both Fabiana and Marlene’s eyes to widen to the size of soccer balls. “Kidding. My car is just a car.”
“I thought you were going to tell us the palace issues James Bond cars to members of the royal family,” Fabiana says.
“That would be fire,” I reply with a laugh. “Now, Marlene, I’ve heard you have the best pies in the county.”
Marlene squares her shoulders with pride. “We’ve won plenty of awards.” She gestures at a shelf littered with cups and trophies.
“So, you have. Well done!”
Her face colors. “Thank you, sir. Whatever you want is on the house.”
“You’re very kind, but I insist on paying. Name your best pies.”
Our food ordered—a slice of apple pie for me and a slice of strawberry and rhubarb for Fabiana, and two cups of coffee—we take a seat at one of the wooden tables, Toffee at our feet.
“I’ve never had a slice of pie for breakfast before,” Fabiana says.
“You sure are living on the wild side.”
“More than you know,” she replies, and I wonder if there’s truth to her words.
“If they’ve cleared the trees to the north, we can head back to the summer palace today.”
“If it’s okay with you, I’d still like to go see my nona, even if she has messaged me again today to tell me she’s in good hands with Rudolf.” She rolls her eyes.
“They’re in love, I tell you.”
She shakes her head. “She never liked the man.”
“People can change their minds,” I say, and she slides her eyes briefly to mine before she looks away.
“Your breakfast!” Marlene announces, placing the food and coffee on the table between us. “I hope you enjoy!”
“Thank you so much,” Fabiana says.
“It looks amazing,” I add.
“Tell us, Marlene, what is there to do in this town on a rainy day?” Fabiana asks.
“Eat pastries, drink coffee, and then when the time is right, switch to wine and pasta.” She throws us a wink.
“What if we wanted to do something in between all the eating and drinking?” I ask.
“If you had children, I would suggest you go to The Giggle Garden down the hill, but as you don’t, perhaps you would like to go to the library and read a book, sir,” she replies.
“Reading a book sounds fantastic to me,” Fabiana says before she eats some of her pie. “Oh, this is just as good as I remember it.”
“You’ve been here before, miss?” Marlene asks.
Something passes across Fabiana’s face, but it’s gone before I can work out what it is. “No, but I’ve had your pies. They’re famous around here.”
Marlene beams with pride. “Thank you.”
“What’s The Giggle Garden?” I ask.
“An indoor children’s play area. It has things like a ball pit and a huge slide. The children love it. Me?” She shudders. “Not so much. It’s too loud.”
“A ball pit? With a huge slide?” I repeat, turning to Fabiana.
She shakes her head. “No, Max.”
“Why not?” I ask.
She looks up at Marlene as though looking for a comrade. “Because it’s for kids, right?”
“So?” I lean closer to Fabiana and add for her ears only, “We had fun in our fort last night, didn’t we?”
Her cheeks bloom pink, and she picks up her coffee cup and takes a sip.
“You go on the big slide and in the ball pit if that’s what you want to do, Prince Max,” Marlene says.
“See?” I say to Fabiana. “Marlene said I could, so…”
She laughs, shaking her head. “Sure. Why not? We can pretend we’re both four foot nothing and play in a ball pit. But you have to let me do some filming.”
I reach across the table and shake her hand. “Deal.”