His Princess in the Making (9 page)

Barely able to stand it, knowing the princess and woman were intertwined so tightly he couldn’t even see between them, he nodded. He wouldn’t look at her.

“Toby, please.”

“Don’t. It’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault,” he said wearily. “I’ll be leaving for home as soon as Charlie’s coronation is over.”

“Maybe it was meant to be this way. All these years, and we have only a day.”

“A day?” he shot back bitterly. “Not even an hour and it was over.”

“It’s always the wrong time for us,” she whispered.

He laughed without humour. “You’re right. So many times I’ve tried to tell you, and life changed. Most recently on the night out in Sydney we never had, the ten-year celebration of your release from the clinic. I’d planned the whole night around telling you how I feel. But you were gone.”

After a few moments, she spoke, her voice filled with sadness. “So many times I tried to tell you too, and something came between us.”

He still couldn’t look at her; he could barely stand the pain of being near her, not touching her. “You mean the women I dated? You said they divided us.”

“It doesn’t matter now.”

“It does.” He swung around, taking her by the shoulders, aching and hurting just at the sight of her sad beauty in the shaft of pale, dying moonlight, with the warm, silky feel of her skin in his hands. “Now is all we have, Giulia.”

She sighed, turning her face slightly so she didn’t look at him. “So ridiculous, isn’t it? After fifteen years where we could have spoken, we choose now, when it can’t make any difference.”

“It makes a difference to me.”

Slowly she shook her head. “You don’t know what you’re asking. I’ve kept it locked inside for so long…”

He cupped her averted face in his hands. “Tomorrow could be too late. Tell me, Giulia. Please.”

Her face was ethereal in the waning moonlight. A ghost of Giselle, about to fade before his eyes as she sighed, and finally spoke the words he’d waited almost eleven years to hear.

“I was so far and so deep in love with you I couldn’t see any other man, could never bear the thought of touching anyone else,” she said quietly. “I wanted to tell you so many times, but I’d almost destroyed our friendship once by kissing you.”

“
Was
in love with me?” His voice was rough with all the might-have-beens.

“Was.” She sighed. “Until Mandy.” She turned to him with a brave smile. “But she didn’t last. We did. I’m still here, we’re friends.”

Mandy was the first girl he’d dated since Giulia’s release from the clinic, three years after she’d come home. “I have to know. Did I hurt you?”

Her mouth quirked in a travesty of the smile she’d given him moments before. “I wanted to die for a few days.” She
bit her lip, shook her head. “Stupid girl, huh? It’s a shame I didn’t make the ballet. It would have fulfilled my desire for drama.” She looked up when he didn’t respond: she knew. “I didn’t die, Toby. I grew up. Dating Mandy was probably the best gift you could have given me at the time.”

He drew her close. “I’m so sorry, so damned sorry, Giulia. I was the stupid one. I thought you didn’t want me. I thought you’d turn from me, say you were sorry and I’d lose you. I thought—” He felt sick, but knew if it wasn’t said now it never would be. “I couldn’t risk stressing you to the point where you’d stop eating again.”

She frowned and looked fully at him for the first time since they’d danced, and his heart jerked at the sad question hovering inside her. “Can’t you ever see beyond the anorexia to see
me?
Couldn’t you tell me, and trust that I’d deal with it as an adult?”

She sounded more sorrowful than incensed, so he took the chance. “I should have, but I couldn’t.” He kissed her hair as he murmured, “Dr Evans said I had to wait for you to speak. He said if you didn’t want me, the threat of losing my friendship could make you sick again. He said the fear of losing me could kill you.”

And she’d proved that tonight, getting sick for the first time in years at hearing about the death threats. She could deny the anorexia, claim it was shock, and probably she was right in part. But she hadn’t eaten since; he’d watched her during supper, watched her playing with the hot chocolate, not even touching the cakes or fruit.

Giulia stilled in his arms. For a few moments he couldn’t even feel her breathe. When she spoke, the words weren’t filled with the anger he half-expected. “Before today, I’d have yelled at you for believing him, when you threw out all the other rules with me and got it right. I’d have been angry that you took the word of someone who didn’t know me.” She
lifted her face to press her cheek against his. “But today I know how that fear takes over everything.”

He nodded, moving his cheek, drinking in her skin. “I’d rather have the hell on earth of knowing you’re halfway across the world and I can’t see or touch you than know you’re gone.”

“That’s how I feel,” she whispered. “Even if you have someone else…and we both know it will happen.”

“No, damn it,
no.
” He pulled back to look into her eyes, feeling the betrayal of his love without it ever being spoken. “You can’t believe that.”

She smiled sadly and shrugged, a weary, hopeless gesture. “I don’t pretend to be unforgettable, much as I’d like to be—and you aren’t the kind of man to be alone for long. Women adore you, they always have, and you love them too. Especially those bubbly blondes you go for.”

“I don’t go for blondes, Giulia, bubbly or otherwise. I haven’t seen anyone but you for years. I only dated those women because they were nothing like you!” Then seeing how she’d taken his words, he blurted, “No, Giulia, I meant I chose them because, though I’d lost hope with you, I couldn’t stand the reminders of you. No woman could ever replace you for me.”
Because I was, and still am, so far and so deep in love with you I barely noticed what they looked like—and they all knew it.

“You lost hope with me without ever telling me?” she whispered. “Did I turn you off so badly somehow?”

“No, beloved, you don’t understand!” But how could he explain what he didn’t understand himself? Why
had
he lost hope?

Because I was so damn scared of losing you, I couldn’t speak.

I didn’t want them, Giulia. Can’t you see? I only want you. I love only you.

The look on her face, saying what she must for his sake, lost in the fear of killing him, withered the words on his
tongue. He’d been there, done that, missed her every signal of pain when he’d dated the women he could barely remember. But Giulia remembered those girls, and she wouldn’t hear his words of love now if he shouted them at her.

“There’s nothing shameful about preferring blondes, Toby, or girls who don’t want to stay at home or go on bushwalks. I dealt with that reality years ago. You don’t find me physically attractive, or you didn’t until recently. But you’ve always liked outgoing blondes. One day you’ll marry one of them and have children.” She kissed his cheek. “And then you can visit, our kids will be friends like we are.”

Speechless, he watched her pack up her kit and leave the gym. The moon dipped behind the trees, and he was left in darkness, wondering if he’d ever get it right with her. He had to make her look beyond her damaged self-vision to the brave, beautiful, wise and giving woman she was, to make her see how lovable and worthy of love she was.

He was running out of time. There seemed no hope of his dream coming true. But if he could give her that gift before the King kicked him out, then if she had to go into marriage with a stranger—God help him—she’d have the strength to meet that man as an equal. And when he was gone, she wouldn’t waste away to nothing.

He stood in the darkness, wondering how he’d had a best friend and almost-lover beside him so many years and it was only now he was starting to see the real woman inside that quiet heart.

G
IULIA
was magnificent—but something was wrong.

During the past two weeks, Toby had organised his work-tour schedule to coincide with as many of Giulia’s visits to towns and villages as possible. Today was another such time, and he’d had a bad feeling for hours.

Though she was saying and doing everything right, though the people and press adored her as much today as yesterday, his bad feeling grew until he was barely functioning. So he’d handed the reins to one of the retired senior-firefighters from the nearby town. Followed by his minders—Giulia and Charlie had insisted on his having protection—he strode to the Town Hall where the logistics of keeping the third and fourth in line to the throne wasn’t such a nightmare.

She stood in the centre of an admiring circle, mostly consisting of women and children, smiling and giving from the heart. They all adored her, and the press lapped it up. She was so much like another beloved princess, shy and awkward but so eager to help, with a heart so true and loving the people responded in kind.

Yet he could see the stress taking its toll on her. The women were kissing her hands, thanking her with tears for being a princess who cared so much for her people. She’d taken on the House of Hereditary Lords. Giulia had fought
long and hard with the King and the Lords to make the change to a four-hundred-year-old law that allowed male relatives to sell off a woman’s land, house or possessions and keep the proceeds.

Now, thanks to Giulia, no man could act as a woman’s financial representative without the woman’s signed affidavit, witnessed by an independent lawyer to prevent duress.

But today’s visit had been a tough one. She’d visited the graves of those who’d been killed in the civil war—a reminder that she was helping bring peace to the nation. But her life could never be her own again. Although she was saying and doing everything right, her foot was tapping; her hands were discreetly wiping on her skirt.

She only perspired to the hands when something overwhelmed her. What was worrying her so much? He strode over, but her minders stopped him before he could get close. One put a note into his hand. It was terse, to the point:

She was already on edge, and no wonder. They were in Orakis territory. Since she’d met with Orakis last week, sweetly asking his permission to set up the refuge, all of them could see Orakis wasn’t smitten with Giulia’s title alone. He couldn’t keep his eyes from her, even when talking to the King.

He’d have to go through the acceptable option.

The crowd around Max parted for him; they all knew Toby was their future King’s closest friend. He spoke low, so only Max would hear it. “Giulia has a headache. They only come when she’s upset about something. Go to her.”

Max flicked a glance at Giulia. “She looks fine to me. The crowd can be a bit much sometimes.”

He stared at Max, wondering if the man was blind. “Trust
me. She has a stress headache. She needs to go back and rest or it will turn to a migraine.”

Max said with clear impatience now, “She can’t go back until we’re done here. This is her duty, despite how she feels. Lia has to do her share.”

Toby felt his fists clench. “You keep telling yourself that. It suits my purpose. Push her too hard for much longer, and she’ll be ready to disappear with me.”

“Always so noble, rescuing the trapped princess,” Max mocked. “I have better things to do than pander to your fears. Go on, play the hero again—but I doubt she’ll appreciate your interference. She’s stronger than you know.”

“I know her better than you ever will,” he said coldly. “I’d go to her, but the King convinced her that being seen with me is dangerous to my health.”

Max clicked his tongue. “If you love her so much, why don’t you start treating her as a woman? You might be surprised by her reaction.”

“You don’t have a clue what Giulia needs,” Toby snarled. “For God’s sake, Max, just ask if she’s all right.”

He stalked off, unable to stomach the sight of Max bonding with her.

Late that night, Lia stood outside the secret door, hoping that after more than an hour of opening to empty rooms and wrong wings she was there at last.

Jazmine had showed her the secret passageways while they’d been still getting to know each other. If her sister-in-law knew why she was here now, she’d wish those nights of laughter and girlish fun had never happened.

She couldn’t stand the days and nights—especially the nights. All her life, she’d been surrounded by family love, but since she’d come here she’d felt smothered and starved, given everything she didn’t want and nothing she
did
want.

She fulfilled all her duties. She was eating, as she assured
Charlie in his anxious calls. She wouldn’t ruin her brother’s honeymoon by collapsing when he needed her to take up the slack.

But she wasn’t sleeping more than three hours a night. Her body didn’t fill her clothes. She’d dropped a size. According to her specialist, whom she’d called today, her weight was bordering on dangerously low.

“You’re stressed, Lia…Your Highness,” Dr Evans had added respectfully. “I’ve been following your progress and your pictures say it all. If you don’t find a way to unwind, you’ll be back in hospital within days. Toby’s there, isn’t he? Talk to him, Lia. Do something fun, as the two of you always did before.”

His bluntness had shocked her, woke her from a walking nightmare. She was doing everything right, eating to reassure everyone that she wasn’t anorexic again, but she spent every night pacing the floor, dancing with a frantic emptiness or fighting tears. Aching to be with the one person she couldn’t, because it could start a war again or get him killed. Just seeing him near her during her public visits triggered stress headaches that no amount of medication would control.

She pulled at the old stone handle. It opened with a slight, protesting creak.

“What the hell—?” Smothered words, but the deep growl she needed to hear.

She drew in a breath. “It’s me. Close the curtains.” When she heard the scraping sound end, she came into the room.

He’d just come back from a night run, by the looks of it, his sweatshirt and tracksuit damp with perspiration. He looked intensely masculine. Hot and edible.

And yet through the physical yearning she felt a pang, wishing he could have knocked on her door like the old days and asked if she wanted to run.

At this moment, just a walk would fill her soul. Viewing
mountains and forests from behind the dark glass of bullet-proof cars made her ache with loss.

“There are secret passages in the palace?” His voice was light, as if he expected her to tell him off—or maybe it was in deference to the minders outside. “You’ve got to be kidding me. This entire country is a conspiracy theorist’s playground.”

She covered her mouth to stifle the laugh and walked to him. “I knew you’d appreciate it. Charlie’s only been in once, would you believe?”

Toby shook his head. “That man needs imagination.”

“Want to come and see?” she asked softly.

His eyes held hers, deep as an Outback sky, and as intense. “Only if you’re asking me what I think you are. Because if I’m alone in a dark passage with you for longer than a minute I’m going to kiss you again.”

She felt heat filling her body, her breath disappear. She ached and burned and longed. He was the only man she’d ever fantasised about as her lover, the groom at the end of the aisle in all her wedding dreams. She opened her mouth to say yes…

“Please,” she said as her conscience kicked in, the memories of every reason why she couldn’t say yes. “Can we please just go for a walk and talk? There’s a path that leads to the forest. Jazmine doesn’t think anyone but the four of us knows about it.” She took a step to him, her face lifted to his, her hand reaching for him. “I haven’t even been on a walk in months. I don’t feel like
me
anymore.”

The old Toby would have responded by taking her hand and giving her his wonderful, heart-singing smile. This Toby kept looking at her, his eyes shadowed.

Unable to stand any more scrutiny after weeks and months of it by everyone she knew and millions she didn’t, she turned away. “Don’t worry, it was a stupid idea.” She laughed with a bitterness she couldn’t control. “Fifty-million euros and a tiara is obviously all a girl needs for happiness. Goodnight.”

She headed back to the passage.

“Giulia.”

She closed her eyes, couldn’t turn back. “What?” she asked huskily.

Nothing in her entire life felt as beautiful as his hand taking hers and lifting it to his mouth. “Just so we’re clear, I still want to kiss you—but I’ll wait until you want it too.” And he smiled at her.

Wanted him to kiss her?
She almost laughed again. Some days it seemed it was all she could think about. When she was surrounded by strangers expecting gracious words, or to take some personal part of her home with them, thinking of Toby kept her sane. She dreamed of kissing him, touching him, disappearing with him—leaving this life she could barely handle, hiding out in their house in Sydney and making love all night without cameras or minders or kings telling them they couldn’t.

But right now she’d take what she could have with him. If it was friendship, she’d make it enough.

She opened the door to the passage again. “You have to be very quiet,” she added as he came into the cave-like maw and filled it with his presence, his strength. “If they hear us…”

“Secret assignations with my Giulia. I’d love it if it weren’t so ironic,” he said, dipping his voice so it was low, intimate.

Lia swallowed the aching. He was so close the current of warm wanting arced between them like a fickle summer-wind.

Without a word, she led him down the stairs to the passage itself, keeping his hand in hers.

“How do you know where you’re going? It seems as if it’s a complete labyrinth of passages leading nowhere.”

She felt the soft rumble of his voice like a long, warm shiver through her, resting low in her belly, hot and heavy. “Jazmine had only one rule: if you’re going out to the forest, follow the fresh air and smell of pine.”

“Ah.”

The single word intensified the ache…fifteen years of aching that had led to only two kisses, threats against his life and the grim spectre of war reignited.

She kept her face turned from him as she found the way through scent alone to the outside passage. She was glad he couldn’t see the shimmer of loss in her eyes, the useless longing to have their time, that kiss eleven years ago, over again. If she’d had her dreams, maybe she’d have got past this—this endless fascination that they could be more than the most beautiful and dearest of friends.

But oh, that kiss…

They came out into the cave that was the doorway to the forest on the palace’s northern boundary. Made awkward and stupid by longings she couldn’t control, she pushed aside the heavy, hanging vines that covered a space just large enough for them to slip through. “This way.”

They walked in silence down a thin path through a forest of pine, spruce and fir, each trunk a new and beautiful shade beneath the shadows and moonlight, the branches and leaves above shimmering with starlight and the beams coming down between the thin, scudding clouds.

Filled with the deep quiet around them, they walked for almost an hour until Lia felt her senses fill with the serenity she’d missed for so long.

At the end of the path, they found a small dell, so tiny they’d have passed it by day, but by night it was a scene from a magical kingdom.

“Oh.” Her gaze drank in the vision: moonbeams and shadows over a thick circle of trees crowding around the clearing as if they were listening to a delicious secret. Glistening moss covered the rocks strewn about like fairy seats in the small dell, floodlit in silver. A hint of winter had come; a delicate cobweb of lacy ice lay on the leaves drooping
from the lower branches, half-fallen like tiny stalactites. One gossamer stalactite had fallen, landing in the crevice of a rock, lying sprawled in the little abyss like Tinkerbell waiting in silence for Peter.

The smell of loam and crushed pine-needles filled her spirit, lifting it high.

“Oh, Toby,” she breathed, holding tight to his hand, filled with wonder and a sense of oneness, of completion she hadn’t known since their last bushwalk in the Blue Mountains nearly five months before.

Slowly, he drew her into the curve of his arm. Lost in the sweet awe, she wrapped her arm around his waist and they held each other, as they always did when they found a marvel on one of their walks. “No one else will ever have this moment or share this perfection. Tomorrow it will be gone, except in our memories. This moment is ours alone.”

She smiled up at him. “I love the way you talk to me. It’s so beautiful.”

He dropped a kiss on her nose. “I learned it from those historical books you love. Remember I read them to you when you were sick? You said you wished a man would speak to you as those heroes did. So I practised until it came naturally to me.”

Startled, she realised he’d spoken the truth. He’d never talked this way until she’d left the clinic.

Terrified to believe, wanting to doubt him because it kept her safe—kept
him
safe—she asked bluntly, “You’ve never talked to any of your girlfriends like this?”

His face stilled. “I haven’t had a girlfriend since I was nineteen, Giulia. Not since the day you fainted and I knew it was you or no one for me.” He laid a finger on her mouth when she started to speak. “I dated a few women, yes. Stupid, selfish and completely a man thing, but if you’d once shown me you wanted me in the past ten years none of those women
would be holding a place in your mind. They certainly haven’t in mine.”

She wheeled away. “You made love to them. You’d stay out until dawn, and then come home and act as if you’d been home all night.”

One heartbeat, two; he drew in an audible breath. “With your high principles, I can’t expect you to understand, but I only passed time with them. I made it clear to them I was only playing around. I never made
love
to them the way I wanted to make love with you. The way I still want to with you. Only you.”