Revealed: A Prince and A Pregnancy. Kelly Hunter

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      ‘You might,’ he offered, dragging his gaze from her lips. Not that he gave a damn whether she liked them or not. ‘You might find that they make your stay here easier for all concerned.’

      ‘Ah, yes. The easy road.’ She looked around the courtyard, her gaze following the trail of jasmine up and over the wall. ‘Why is it, do you think, that the easy road so rarely takes a person where they want to go?’

      ‘It can,’ he said. ‘It depends where you want to go.’

      ‘Call it a wild hunch, but I don’t think we’re heading for the same place.’ She slanted him a glance, heavy on the doe-eyed innocence. Warning klaxons rang in his brain. Childhood memories surfaced. The ingénue look had usually signalled Simone at her devious best. And Simone at her devious best had been very wily indeed.

      ‘So…about these rules…’ she said. ‘Am I to stay out of your way as much as possible? Refuse all invitations from Gabrielle to show me the vineyard you restored and made your own? Am I to pretend that our shared history does not exist?’

      She knew him too well. He glared at her, but he didn’t contradict her. ‘It’s a start.’

      ‘It’s a mistake,’ she countered lightly. ‘Funny things, boundaries. All they ever seem to do is make a person want to push against them.’ Her gaze turned dark and knowing. ‘But then…you already know that.’

      Just like that, effortlessly and with surgical precision, she cut the ground from beneath him.

      ‘I will not cower in the shadows during my stay here, Rafael.’ She stepped closer, too close. ‘I will not pretend polite indifference towards you. I reject your rules of engagement. Mine is a different road.’

      He could smell the scent on her skin, something delicate and floral and quintessentially French. He was close enough to touch her if he wanted to. And he did want to. Not lovingly or gently but in desperation and in need. Slowly, deliberately, he jammed his hands in his pockets and stepped back. ‘Yours is a dangerous road.’

      ‘We played together as children,’ she said quietly. ‘I knew you then. I knew your soul and it wasn’t a simple one, but I knew it nonetheless. We loved together in our youth and I felt your dreams and breathed your fears, but duty prevented me from following where you led. Sometimes, when I look back, I regret the choices I’ve made. And sometimes I don’t.’

      She looked away then, as if the sight of him hurt her eyes. ‘I cannot change our past, Rafael. It happened. It’s done. But I can influence the present and I would have us leave the past behind if we could. I want new memories to replace the old. Even bittersweet ones would be better than the ones I carry now.’

      She took a shuddering breath. There was fear here; he felt it as if it were his own. Maybe it was. Run, he pleaded silently. Dear God, Simone, don’t do this. Don’t even try.

      ‘Do you know what I would take from you this visit?’ she said quietly. ‘Friendship.’

      ‘Don’t,’ he muttered. ‘Simone, don’t.’

      ‘Guarded if you like. Conditional if need be. But I would very much like to get to know the man you’ve become.’

      ‘No.’ She asked too much of him. She always had. He headed for the door, knowing it for retreat. Knowing that whatever ground he’d thought to protect, he’d somehow just lost. ‘I can’t walk that road with you,’ he said hoarsely. ‘Not now, not ever.’ He let his anger surface, he let it fan his pain and she flinched away from what she saw in his eyes and well she should have. He headed for the door, fast, before he hauled her in his arms and showed her exactly why he could never be her friend. ‘I just can’t.’

      Simone stood her ground as he strode from the court-yard and then from the room without a backward glance. She knew he wouldn’t look back, he never had, even as a boy. Forward was the only way for Rafael and she had hoped to appeal to that need in him. Confront the past head on in order to move on.

      So much for that particular notion.

      Simone closed her eyes and let the twin blades of weariness and abandonment overtake her.

      She’d come here for a wedding because she had to. She’d come here, out of her element and out of her league, to try and broker some sort of peace with her past and with Rafael.

      She was trying, dammit!

      Coffee would be good. Coffee, and then she and Sarah would fit the bridal gown to the dressmaker’s dummy and then she would make that call to Gabrielle. There were jobs to do. Steps to take. She would take pleasure in helping to make Luc and Gabrielle’s wedding day a perfect one. She would find joy in the little things. She would not give way to despair.

      As for Rafael, with his smouldering gaze and his barely concealed anger…

      Courage.

      Chapter Two

      ‘IT’S exquisite,’ said Gabrielle in a hushed and reverent whisper as she fingered the pearl edging of the neckline. ‘I knew when they took my measurements and we agreed on a basic design that it’d be lovely, but never in a million years did I imagine a gown as beautiful as this. It’s like something from a fairy tale. A very sophisticated French fairy tale,’ she added with a grin. ‘Wait ‘til Lucien sees it!’

      ‘Exactly,’ said Simone. ‘I trust you’ve organised hair and make-up assistance for Sunday?’

      ‘Done,’ said Gabrielle. ‘Oh, Simone, thank you. Thank you for bringing all this with you, and for coming. I know you have your reservations, but I’m so glad you’re here.’

      ‘Yes, well…well-founded reservations notwithstanding, I’m glad I’m here too.’ She sat back and smiled at Gabrielle’s continued fascination with her wedding gown. ‘I think we need to get better acquainted with the room service hereabouts. How does a plate full of salmon and black caviar canapés sound? It seems it’s on the menu.’

      ‘Do they come with a chilled Semillon Blanc?’

      ‘I’m sure they could…’ Simone grinned and reached for the phone. ‘Let me see.’

      Simone added a selection of local cheese and biscuits to the order and replaced the phone in the receiver, well satisfied with her efforts. ‘Food and beverage is on the way. What else do bridesmaids usually do?’

      ‘They show the bride their bridesmaid gown.’ Gabrielle dragged her gaze away from her wedding dress long enough to spear Simone with a narrow-eyed glance. ‘And what do you mean by “well-founded” reservations? You haven’t even seen Rafe yet.’

      ‘Not true. He happened by this afternoon.’ Simone headed for the outer hanging cupboard and pulled a strapless floor-length gown in coffee cream with slightly darker pearl beading across the bodice from its depths. ‘Voila! It suits me very well and offsets your gown to perfection. I told you the couturier knew what he was doing.’

      ‘And so he should, considering what he charges. But you’re right, he does know clothes. You’re going to look divine.’ Gabrielle sent her a questioning smile. ‘Ordinarily I would wax lyrical over the gown a little longer, but my curiosity’s killing me. Rafe was here earlier?’

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