all twisted up in her head as the hero of this story. She couldn’t be more wrong—he was a rock, all right. A rolling stone headed for the horizon.
It suddenly sounded lonely and unappetizing. “I can’t be anyone’s rock. I don’t know how.”
That had come out wrong. He intended to be firm and resolute, but instead sounded far too harsh.
“Oh, sweetie. There’s no instruction manual. You’re already doing it.” She shook her head and feathered a thumb over his jaw in a caress that felt more intimate than the sex they’d had last night. “You’re letting someone else cloud your view of yourself. Don’t let your father define who you are.”
He started to protest and then her words really sank in. Had he subconsciously been doing that—letting his father have that much power over him?
Maybe he’d never realized it because he’d refused to admit the rift between him and his father might be partially his own fault. James had always been too busy running to pay attention. Even now, his thoughts were on Liverpool and the potential opportunity to play in the top league. But more importantly, Liverpool wasn’t in Alma—where the woman who had him so wrongly cast in her head as the hero lived. He was thinking about leaving. Maybe he was already halfway out the door.
Which then begged the question—what if he buckled under pressure because he always took off when the going got tough?
* * *
The new bed was supremely superior to the floor.
Bella and James christened it that night and slept entwined until morning. It was the best night of sleep she’d ever had in her life.
But dawn brought a dose of reality. She hadn’t been back to the Playa del Onda house in almost forty-eight hours. The quick text message to Gabriel to explain her absence as a “getaway with a friend” hadn’t stopped her father from calling four times and leaving four terse voice mail messages. She hadn’t answered. On purpose.
With the addition of running water and electricity, the farmhouse took on a warmth she enjoyed. In fact, she’d rather stay here forever than go back to the beach house. But she had to deal with her father eventually. If this matter of the engagement announcement was simply a test of her father’s resolve versus her own, she wouldn’t care very much about the scandal of being with James.
But it wasn’t just about two Montoros squaring off against each other. It was a matter of national alliances and a fledgling monarchy. She didn’t have any intention of marrying Will, but until the Montoros issued a public retraction of the engagement story, the possibility of another scandal was very real. This one might be far worse for Gabriel on the heels of the one Rafe had caused. And hiding away with James hadn’t changed that. She had to take care of it. Soon.
“Good morning,” James murmured and reached out to stroke hair from her face as he lay facing her on the adjacent pillow. “This is my favorite look on you.”
“Bedhead?” She smiled despite the somberness of her thoughts.
“Well loved.” He grinned back. “I liked it yesterday morning, too.”
Speaking of which... “How long do you think we can reasonably hole up here without someone snapping a picture of us together?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “Forever.” When she arched a brow, he grinned. “I can fantasize about that, can’t I? As long as I keep jetting off when people show up, what’s the hurry?”
Her conscience pricked at her. James was leaving the timing of forcing the issue to her, but a scandal could be damaging to him as well. It was selfish enough to refuse to marry Will, but she wasn’t really hurting him as long as they were up front about it. A scandal that broke before the retraction could very well hurt James and she couldn’t stand that.
“I think I need to talk to my father today,” she said firmly. “Or tomorrow at the very latest.”
James deserved what he’d asked for—the right to take her out in public, to declare to the world that they’d started seeing each other. To take her to a hotel, or dinner or wherever he liked. It wasn’t fair to force him to help her clean up this old farmhouse just so she could avoid a confrontation.
Except she wasn’t only avoiding the confrontation. She was avoiding admitting to herself that her own desires had trumped her responsibilities. Hurricane Bella had followed her across the Atlantic after all.
“I’ll drive you back to Playa Del Onda,” he said immediately. “Whenever you’re ready.”
A different fear gripped her then. What if they got everything straightened out and she and James could be together with no fear of scandal—only for her to discover things between them were so amazing because of the extreme circumstances? The white-hot attraction between them might fizzle if their secret affair wasn’t so secret any longer.
That was enough to change her mind.
“I’ll probably never be ready. Let’s shoot for tomorrow.” That was too soon. The thought of losing her allure with James made her want to weep. “Let’s get some more work on the house done today. It’ll give me time to gear up. Is that okay? Do you have something else you need to be doing?”
“Nothing I would rather be doing, that’s for sure. I’m completely open.”
“Me, too.”
And for some reason, that didn’t sit well, as if she was some kind of Eurotrash princess who had nothing better to do than lie around all day getting it on with a hot athlete. That was like a tabloid story in and of itself.
The urn from the great room popped into her head. Usefulness created worth and she wanted to feel that her life had worth.
“You know what I’d like to do?” she said impulsively. “Find out if there’s a wildlife conservation organization in Alma.”
James, to his credit, didn’t register a lick of surprise. “I’ll help you find one.”
Of course he’d say that, without questioning why. His unwavering support was fast becoming a lifeline. “I was involved in one back in Miami. I like taking care of poor, defenseless creatures. Especially birds. We had wild macaws on the grounds at our house and I always felt like they were there as a sign. I miss them. I miss feeling like I’m doing something to give back, you know?”
“It’s a good cause,” he agreed. “There are some estuaries on the east side of the main island. Lots of migratory birds and fish live there. Surely there are some organizations devoted to their preservation. If not, you’re in the perfect position to start one.”
Her breath caught. At last, a use for the title of princess. If her brother was running the show, he could give her backing in parliament to get some state money set aside. Fund-raisers galore could come out of that. “Thanks. I love that idea.”
“If we’re going to Playa Del Onda tomorrow, you want to swing by the Playa branch of the Ministry of Agriculture and Environment and see if they have any information on wildlife conservation?”
“Definitely. And then I’d like to come back and put together a serious renovation plan for the house. But I’m not suggesting you have to help,” she amended in a rush.
Good
