Princess from the Shadows Maisey Yates (14 page)

But even when he closed the door to the bathroom he could still feel her. On his skin. Beneath it. He felt tangled in her.

Sex had never done this to him. He’d always held himself back from it, engaging his body but never anything more.

Tonight, he had nearly drowned in the experience. The emotion overtaking the physical, fusing with it, creating a force he could not deny or control.

He had always prided himself on being a man in control, from the time he’d been a boy and control meant the difference between flying under the radar and enduring a beating.

And Carlotta had stripped him of it. Effortlessly, it seemed. And he had not been able to rebuild it. He had been left defenseless. Open and bleeding, raw. Exposed. Vulnerable.

He had vowed he would never be vulnerable again. That no one would ever hold power over him. Have the power to cause him pain.

He discarded the condom and turned on the shower, stepping beneath the cold spray, not waiting for it to heat.

He couldn’t lose his control. He could not allow it. He hit his fist against the tile wall, welcoming the bite of pain. Anything to bring him back down, to erase the buzz of arousal that was still coursing through him.

Anything to remind him of who he was, and all that he could never hope to have.

I’M GOING to have a busy week when we get back home
. Rodriguez had said it, and he’d meant it.

After they returned to Santa Christobel, Rodriguez became the man he’d promised to be from the beginning. A man leading a separate life from her.

In the past week he hadn’t even come to her at night.

And no matter how much she’d hoped to stay detached, she just wasn’t.

Maybe if Carlotta had any clue what she wanted she’d be able to talk to Rodriguez and get everything sorted out. But it all came back down to the fact that she wasn’t supposed to care that he was being kept busy with affairs of state.

She blew out a breath and took her cell phone out of her purse, toying with the idea of calling Sophia. It had been too long since she’d talked to her sister. Mostly because it was so much easier to send a text and feign happiness.

And then there was Natalia. Natalia who, at this point, was more like a stranger than a twin these days.

Now she felt even more alone. Great, nice train of thought.

She had Luca, she was comfortable. She was home with him. She shouldn’t care that her sisters were in different countries and Rodriguez was barely speaking to her. Of course, she did care. But she didn’t know what to do about that.

She scrolled through a litany of her favorite swear words, in English and Italian, while she watched Luca hopping over a ball in the middle of the expansive lawn from her position on the terrace.

“Watch me!” he shouted as he launched himself over the bright red rubber ball.

“Be careful, Luca,” she said. It was almost reflexive to say that, whenever he said, “Watch me.”

“I am!”

“Yeah, okay,” she said, rolling her eyes, thankful he couldn’t see her perform the childish action. She was supposed to be the mom. But she wasn’t perfect, even though she tried to be.

She thought of Natalia again, of all the confusing emotion wrapped up in that relationship. Another area of her life she’d been imperfect in. She’d so envied the bright light her sister possessed that she managed to just laugh off the stuff the tabloids wrote about her. That she seemed to have permission, even if it was grudging, to be who she wanted to be. To be who she was instead of trying to force herself into a mold she would never, ever fit into.

But that wasn’t Natalia’s fault. Carlotta realized that for the first time. Natalia wasn’t doing it to her, to hurt her in any way. She was simply living. And Carlotta’s own issues were a big part of what kept them so distant from each other.

She scrolled through the numbers on her phone, her fingers trembling. Maybe she should call her. Maybe it was time.

Her phone vibrated in her hand. She looked down and saw Natalia’s name on the screen and her heart banged against her chest. It made sense now, why Natalia’s name had been so persistent in her mind. She was thinking of her too. But if her sister was calling, the news had to be bad. Something catastrophic, because Natalia never called.

She answered quickly. “Natalia?”

“Ciao
, Lotta.”

No one had called her Lotta in years. No one had been close enough to her to use a nickname. It made her throat feel tight, achy.

“Natalia, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” her sister said, far too quickly. “Congratulations on your engagement.”

Carlotta looked down at the ring on her left hand. Oh, yes, she was engaged. But if not for the memory of those two glorious nights in Rodriguez’s bed she wouldn’t believe it.

But Natalia hadn’t called to congratulate her, and her sister’s skirting of the issue was getting on her already frayed nerves. She closed her eyes and worked to cultivate a calm tone. “Natalia. Something is wrong, I can tell by your voice. What is it?”

Even after years of distance, Natalia’s tone was easy to read. They were twins, and regardless of the fact that they were as opposite as two people could be, she had always felt deeply the things Natalia had felt. Had always sensed when something wasn’t right. That also accounted for the restlessness she’d felt a few moments earlier.

“I.” Natalia hesitated. “I just wanted to talk to you. And see how you were doing.”

Carlotta didn’t believe that for a moment. Her sister was many things, a lot of them good, but after going so long without contact from her, she couldn’t really believe she’d suddenly decided she cared about what was happening with her.

I’m falling for the wrong guy again. And I know better. He’s probably screwing actresses and models even as we speak, maybe even at the same time, and I’m sitting here feeling like I’m missing half of myself
.

“I’m fine,” she said, because the truth wasn’t going to cut it here. Not when she hated the truth so much.

“Are you really? I mean … this marriage.”

“I’m only doing what we all must do,” Carlotta said, her words not her own. They were her father’s words. And right now, she hated them. “I’m more worried about you, Natalia, we haven’t spoken—”

“In years, I know,” her twin said, her tone defensive.

“Not years.” But close.

“We haven’t had a real conversation in years.”

That insight, coming from Natalia, shocked Carlotta a bit. She was right. They hadn’t. She hadn’t really had a meaningful conversation with anyone but Rodriguez since she’d gotten pregnant with Luca. She’d just sort of closed off. Her sister had noticed. And it had hurt her, she could hear that in her voice.

That cut deep. That her own issues had affected Natalia that way. That she had let her resentments come between them.

“I just wanted to say,” Natalia said, her voice unsteady, “I’m sorry for not being there when you had Luca. And after I.” She paused and Carlotta waited, wondering if she should speak, wondering if she could. “I was afraid.”

“I know you were, Natalia,” Carlotta said, keeping her voice neutral.

“And angry,” Natalia continued. “About a lot of things. About how you were treated and how it would change things. I felt like you were moving on to a whole new life without me.”

For some reason, Carlotta laughed, even though she felt no humor. Only a bone-deep sadness. “I was, I suppose.”

“But I was selfish. I know that.”

Carlotta let the words wash over her, felt them loosen the hold on some of the anger that was wrapped around her heart. Anger she hadn’t realized was still so prominent, because it had become such a part of her.

“It was a long time ago,” she said, more to herself than to Natalia.

“Still, I just … wanted to be honest.”

Carlotta swallowed hard, trying to grasp what her sister had said. Trying to make it matter. Trying to let go of the hurt and anger, and hold on to it at the same time.

Not possible, Carlotta. Let it go, or hang on. There’s no halfway
.

Coming from Natalia, this was big. Huge. And if there was one thing Carlotta knew, it was that everyone deserved forgiveness. Because everyone would need it at some point in time. She had. She’d made mistakes. She hadn’t been perfect, and while it had been easy to blame her twin for the erosion of their relationship, the truth was, Carlotta had shut down.

“What’s going on, to provoke all this honesty?” she asked finally.

“Nothing,” Natalia said. Too quickly. “I’ve met someone,” she amended. “Someone who’s challenged me. Someone who’s changed me.”

That sounded familiar. More than. Enough to make her feel an uncomfortable stab of emotion in her heart. She’d met someone too. And she felt changed. In every way a different woman than the one who’d first arrived in Santa Christobel.

Because of Rodriguez.

“Changed? Are you engaged as well, Natalia?”

“No,” she said.

“Natalia,” Carlotta tried again, hoping to extract more from her. “Who is this person?” Man, woman, rent boy? But she didn’t want to press, or be flippant. This was important. Somehow, this conversation was essential. And it wasn’t the subject matter, so much as the fact that they were having one at all.

“Just someone,” she said, her tone so sad that Carlotta felt an echo of the pain in her own heart. “No one important.”

“Oh.”

She hung up with her sister, feeling … everything. Pain for whatever Natalia was going through, but overwhelming happiness too, because of the moment of connection. Also, fear. A lot of fear.

Because she was afraid she and Natalia were going through something far too similar at the moment. She was afraid her feelings for Rodriguez were crossing into the kind of territory she needed to stay out of.

She’d been there, done that, made the papers. Falling in love with the wrong man, making an idiot of herself for him. She didn’t intend to do it with her own husband.

What if he really was out sleeping with other women? He’d promised fidelity, but what did that really mean? At least she knew that if Rodriguez promised something, he would mean it. At the time. She also knew a man like him was bound to be a little bit fickle.

He’d said it himself. Sex was cheap.

To him it was. But it was costing her. Bits and pieces of her heart and soul. It probably wasn’t even the sex. She hadn’t been with him since the night they’d spent together in Barcelona.

It felt like it had been longer. And less time too. She still ached for his touch, and she still felt branded by it. He did the strangest things to her.

“I jumped it!” Luca shouted.

“Yay, Luca!” she returned.

“Good job, Luca.”

She whirled around and saw Rodriguez standing in the doorway, and her heart immediately jumped into her throat. He was gorgeous, even when she was kind of mad at him. Even when she was confused about her feelings. She was not confused about the gorgeousness.

He ran his hand over his thick, dark hair, his smile wide and thoroughly sexy. Thoroughly angering too.

“Thanks,” Luca said, running up to the terrace, Rodriguez drawing him like a moth to the flame. “Did you have a good day?” Luca asked, his manners on show for once.

Rodriguez’s smile turned tight. “I did. You?”

“I jumped over that ball.”

“A success then,” he said.

“I’m surprised to see you here before dark,” Carlotta said, knowing she sounded a little shrewish, and not really caring.

“We have a thing tonight.”

“We?” she asked, her voice tight.

“Yes. We. I do not intend to take another woman as my date.”

“Some notice would be nice,” she practically hissed. “This is becoming a habit with you. I need time to get ready.” Oh, she sounded like a nagging wife already and the wedding wasn’t taking place for months.

“Three hours should be sufficient.”

“I think Angelina had planned on taking the afternoon off. She went out.”

“I talked to Angelina.”

Annoyance coursed through her. “You talked to Angelina. and you didn’t talk to me?”

“Is Angelina going to bring movies?” Luca asked.

“I don’t know, Luca,” Carlotta said. “What is this thing we’re going to?”

“A charity event in the city.”

“Can I go?” Luca asked.

Rodriguez looked down at Luca. “You wouldn’t like it. You’d have to wear a tie, and you couldn’t jump over anything.”

Luca made a face. “Then I don’t want to go.”

“Neither do I,” Rodriguez said.

“And we’re going because …?” Carlotta asked.

“Because it’s a good cause. And apparently my father goes every year. I didn’t find out until this afternoon and I came straight home.”

“Oh,” she said, feeling a bit subdued by that piece of information. “How is your father?” she asked.

“Not well. But not any worse.”

“Well. good. I guess.”

He shrugged, his emotions as unreadable as ever.

“Rodriguez, will you watch a movie with me?” Luca asked, his green eyes round and earnest.

Rodriguez hesitated for a moment. “Sure, Luca. We can watch something while your mama gets ready.”

Luca smiled and grabbed Rodriguez’s hand. And then Carlotta really couldn’t feel angry at him, because even though he was still tense with Luca, he was trying. That meant everything to her. If he hadn’t been able to treat Luca well … there was no way she could have stayed. No way she could agree to marry him.

“I’ll see you in a bit,” she said, watching as Luca led Rodriguez inside.

And she fell a little harder for him right then.

Rodriguez didn’t know when he’d relaxed, but he had. Gradually his muscles had stopped feeling tense. He’d stopped worrying so much about doing the wrong thing.

And then, at some point, Luca had fallen asleep, his head resting against Rodriguez’s shoulder. Now, Rodriguez’s arm was asleep and Luca’s warmth had crossed over into too hot. But he didn’t want to move, for fear of waking the little boy.

He also didn’t want to analyze exactly what Luca’s trust of him made him feel. Or how badly it would hurt when he lost it.

Because he would.

It was part of his life. No one ever maintained a connection with him. At some point he’d just accepted it was something in him, and he’d made it work for him.