Modern Romance November 2015 Books 1-4. Trish Morey

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СКАЧАТЬ never spoken these words out loud before. Had hardly formed them in her mind. “They were surrogate caregivers. Not a family. They observed a kind of careful distance with me, and I was expected to do the same.”

      “Then you didn’t spend your childhood running wild?”

      A smile tugged to the corner of her lips. “I did. I had all the freedom a child could wish for. I spent a lot of time wandering through the forest on my own. Talking to myself. Talking to the trees.”

      “Were you lonely?” he asked, and there was a strange edge to the question, a roughness that scraped against raw places inside her.

      She swallowed, ignoring the discomfort inside her. “I don’t know how to answer that. It was my daily life. It was normal for me. I wasn’t aware of anything missing.”

      It was this place, this man, that made her so aware of all she hadn’t had. Of the life she should have lived. Of the years she’d gone without being touched.

      She and Andres weren’t even lovers and he touched her frequently. As though it were the most casual and easy thing.

      He was touching her now. Holding her close. And she was forgetting what she was here to do. Forgetting her ultimate goal. That she was only playing along now so she could use his trust later.

      Right now all she could focus on was this. The way his hands felt over the flimsy fabric of the dress. The way it felt when he said she was beautiful.

      The way it felt to have a man look at her, not through her.

      What did those things matter? What did beauty matter? It had never mattered before.

      She looked away from him, trying to regain control of her thoughts. “What about you?”

      “I did not wander through the woods,” he said.

      There was something strange in his voice. She couldn’t quite place what it was. More of him not saying what he was thinking. “You weren’t lonely?”

      “The palace is always full of people. And these days I do love a party.”

      Just then, looking at him, at the stark, raw emotion that flickered in his eyes for just a moment, she was struck again by that thought she’d had about being defined by her station. Except she wondered if it had been the same for him. If he was more what his title was than who he was inside. If anyone valued him at all as a man, and not as a prince.

      “That doesn’t matter. The camp was always crowded. There were always people. But I was never a part of them in the same way. Families, blood family, shared space. Caravans. Sometimes they would sleep altogether around the campfire. Family is the cornerstone of the clan. And I didn’t have one.”

      “I had a family,” he said, his voice rough.

      “Are your parents dead too?” It was a terribly inappropriate question, one she knew she shouldn’t have asked. Andres was very careful with his words. Sometimes he was direct, tactless, but that was by choice, never on accident. Other times he was careful to make a wide circle around the point, disguising it, wrapping it in something more palatable.

      But she had been raised in an environment where words weren’t wasted. Where honesty, honor mattered.

      Still, she regretted these words.

      “My father is,” he said, his tone hard. “Not my mother. At least, not as far as I know.”

      “She isn’t here.” It wasn’t a question.

      “She hasn’t been. Not for years.”

      “Where did she go?”

      “I, my brother, my father, and all of our Secret Service don’t know the answer to that. When she disappeared, she disappeared. Not, I suspect, because she was so accomplished at subterfuge, but because she did what no one expected her to do.”

      “What’s that?”

      She expected him to stop their conversation, expected him to scold her for being too bold. Instead, a faint smile tipped the corners of his mouth upward. “I think she just walked away. With nothing but the clothes she was wearing.”

      “Why?” Zara had imagined doing just that. But she hadn’t. Because she had no money, no identification, no skills, nothing. And yet, to hear Andres say it, it was what his mother had done.

      “I suspect because it was all a bit too much for her.”

      “Being royal?”

      He stopped moving then, but he didn’t release his hold on her. “Perhaps.”

      There was something beneath that answer, words that weren’t being spoken. He frustrated her. Made her want to pound on his chest until the truth came out. But she shouldn’t care. So she didn’t.

      “Perhaps I will find it all too much,” she said.

      He moved without warning, releasing his hold on her hand, taking hold of her chin. “You will not leave me.”

      She was taken aback by the sudden intensity, by the growl in his voice. “No,” she said, not entirely certain she was telling the truth.

      “You dance fine,” he said, releasing his hold on her and stepping away from her. The chill between them was palpable, blown in on the words she had spoken, words that had carried a power she hadn’t been able to guess at.

      “Thank you,” she said, not really meaning it. Then she doubted he had meant what he said about her dancing.

      Already, she had learned something from him. Already, she was learning to hide.

      “I suggest you spend the next couple of days reflecting on the best way to present yourself to the public here in Petras. There is a traditional holiday feast at the end of the week, and we will be making our debut. It will be held here at the palace, and many of the prominent citizens here in Petras will be invited, while many more will be watching on television. My brother is going to make a speech. For some reason, the populace is very interested in what he has to say.”

      His mask was firmly back in place. It had slipped, only for a moment, but it had.

      “I don’t have to say anything, do I?” The thought had occurred to her suddenly, and had horrified her. She had never had to speak in front of people in her life.

      “No. In fact, it would be best if you didn’t. If you can manage to stand there, look lovely and not chew on any of the chicken bones, we should be fine.”

      She frowned. “I’m not going to chew on chicken bones.”

      “I can’t be sure with you.”

      “What sort of debut is this, exactly?”

      “You will be making your first public appearance with me. As I never bring women to such things, it will be seen as significant,” he said.

      She opened her mouth to protest, but before she could, he turned away from her and walked out of the room, leaving her standing there in a formal СКАЧАТЬ