Matched to a Prince. Kat Cantrell
Чтение книги онлайн.
Читать онлайн книгу Matched to a Prince - Kat Cantrell страница 10
So he’d grant EA International another chance. Once he had a new bride by his side, the public would forget about the Party Prince and he could become known for something worthwhile.
The People’s Prince. He liked the sound of that.
In the meantime, he could have Juliet...and all the good things about their relationship. Without getting into the painful past.
“So I take it you thought dinner went well?” he asked with a grin he couldn’t have wiped off his face for anything. “You know, since you agreed to a repeat of the kiss.”
Her hair was a little mussed from his fingers. He itched to pull out all the pins and let those silky locks tumble over him.
“I’m staying open to where the night leads. But it’s been good so far.” She studied him speculatively. “We’re not fighting. We’re connecting, like you said.”
They weren’t fighting because they’d thus far avoided the problem. And he was totally prepared to keep avoiding history with a capital H for as long as possible. “If this driver would step on it, we’d be connecting a whole lot more.”
She laughed. “We have all night. But while we’re on the subject, does connecting mean you’re open to being on my side this time around?”
Apparently she did not subscribe to the same desire for avoidance of the past. “I’ve always been on your side.”
“If that was true, you’d never have taken the stance you did.” Her expression closed in. “You’d have supported me and my family when we tried to talk to your father.”
That was the Juliet he’d last seen in Delamer. His stomach dipped. The connection part of the evening appeared to be over.
“You say that like I had no choice, like I had to agree with you or it equaled lack of support.” But that’s how he’d felt, as well. As if she couldn’t see his side. Instantly, it all came roaring back. All the hurt and anger he’d been living with for a very long year. “You didn’t support me either. And I never asked you to go against everything you believed in.”
She yanked her hand from his. The heat in her expression reminded him she got just as passionate about taking his head off when they clashed.
So much for dinner going well.
“That’s exactly what you wanted me to do.” A lone tear tracked down Juliet’s face and his gut clenched. It hurt to see someone as strong as Juliet crying. “Forget about Bernard and support you every day as you put on the uniform of the Delamer military. Every day, I’d be reminded Bernard died wearing the same uniform and I did nothing to avenge that. Every day, I’d be reminded you chose to stand with the crown instead of with me.”
The car stopped at the private entrance to his hotel. It was positioned discreetly in the secluded rear section of the property, off to the side of the underground parking garage.
Finn didn’t get out. This wasn’t finished, not even close.
“Vengeance well describes it. You humiliated me. That protest garnered the attention of the entire world. Juliet—” Finn pinched the bridge of his nose. They should have recorded this conversation and played it back, saving them the trouble of having it again. “I’m a member of the House of Couronne. You burned the flag of the country my family rules while we were dating. How can you not see what that did to me?”
Not to mention the man she’d vilified was his father. He loved his father, loved his country. She’d wanted him to choose her over honor.
“My family is forever changed because of your father’s policies. Bernard is gone and—” Her voice seized, choking off the rest. After a moment, she stared up at him through watery eyes laced with devastation. “A man who claimed to love me would have understood. He would have done anything to make that right.”
But he wasn’t just a man and never would be. He could no sooner remove the royal blood in his veins than he could fly blindfolded.
The tearing in his chest felt as if it was on repeat, as well. “A woman who claimed to love me would have realized I have an obligation to the crown, whether it’s on my head or not. I don’t get the choice to be someone other than Prince Alain Phineas of Montagne, Duke of Marechal, House of Couronne.”
He belonged to one of the last royal houses of Europe and he owed it to his ancestors to preserve the country they’d left in his care. No matter how antiquated the notion became in an increasingly modern world.
Now he was ready to get out of the car. To be somewhere she wasn’t. That was one thing that hadn’t changed—Juliet causing him to feel a touch insane as he veered between extreme highs and lows very quickly. She followed him to the curb, clearly determined to continue twisting the spike through his heart.
“I never wanted you to be someone else. I loved you.”
Past tense. It didn’t escape his notice.
“You meant everything to me, Finn. But it’s peacetime. The mandatory military service law is ridiculous. Why can’t you see that your royal obligation is to stop being so stubborn and think about people’s lives?”
“For the same reason you can’t see that the military is mine,” he said quietly.
He’d never wear the crown. Flying helicopters was the one thing he could do that Alexander, as the crown prince, couldn’t. Juliet’s refusal to get out from under her righteous indignation prevented her from taking his side.
She was the stubborn one.
Anger coated the back of his throat. Juliet was still the same crusader under the cosmetics and sexy dress. She was still determined to alter the heart of the institution to which he’d sworn loyalty.
Suddenly, it was all too easy to resist her. He didn’t have the slightest interest in rehashing all of this for the rest of the night, regardless of the more tangible rewards. He’d never bowed to anyone before and he wasn’t about to start now.
Arms crossed against her abdomen, Juliet stared dry-eyed at the unoccupied valet booth behind Finn. “I think it’s safe to say the date was not a success.”
“I’ll have the driver take you back to Elise’s house.” Finn tapped on the passenger-side window.
The squeal of tires on cement reverberated through the quiet underground lot. A van sped down the ramp and wedged tight against the rear bumper of Finn’s hired car. Four men with distinctly shaved heads, beefy physiques and dark clothing jumped out, trouble written all over them.
“Juliet, get in the car,” Finn muttered, angling his body to shield her as the men advanced on them.
He never should have given his security guys the night off.
It was the last thing he registered as the world went black.