and walked over to the window. He knew the view she was afforded. This place had been hard-earned. He’d worked just as his siblings had to make Montoro Enterprises into the success it was today.
“I just wanted you to know. Beyond that I don’t need anything. Someday the kid is going to ask about you—”
“Someday? I’m going to be a part of this,” Rafe said.
“I don’t see how. You’re going to be jetting off to Alma to take the throne. My life is here. The baby’s life will be here.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. The timing on this sucked. But he didn’t blame Emily. He’d been running when he went to Key West, afraid to admit that he was in over his head. He’d just gotten word that his family was definitely interested in returning to Alma and as the oldest son he was expected to take the throne.
He was the oldest son. He was Rafael the Fourth. He should have been in command all the time. But the truth was, he was lost.
He wanted his own life. Not one that was dictated by rules and the demands of running a country. If he’d made the decision to return to Alma on his own he might feel differently but right now he felt strong-armed into it.
But somehow in Emily’s arms he’d found something.
Emily didn’t really feel any better about her next steps, but now that she’d told Rafe her news she could at least start making plans. She didn’t know what she expected… Well, the fairy-tale answer was that he’d profess his undying love—hey, their weekend together was pretty spectacular—then sweep her off her feet to his jet, and they’d go to Paris to celebrate their engagement.
But back in the real world, she was staring at him and wondering if this was the last time she’d be alone with him. It didn’t matter what the fantasy was or that she knew how he looked naked. They were still strangers.
Intimate strangers.
“You are looking at me in an odd way,” he said.
She struggled with her blunt nature. Saying that she knew what he looked like naked but not how he’d react to their child would reveal too much insecurity. So she searched for something light. Keeping things light was the key to this.
“Well, I never heard you rap along with Jay-Z and Kanye before. Sort of changed my opinion of you.”
“I’m a man of many talents,” he said.
“I’d already guessed that.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
He walked over to her, all sex on a stick with that slow confident stride of his. His hazel eyes were intense, but then everything about him was. Last time they were together, she’d sensed his need to just forget who he was, but this time was different. This time he seemed to want to show her more of the man he was.
The real man.
“What else have you guessed?” he asked in a silky tone that sent shivers down her spine.
He had a great voice. She knew he had flaws, but as far as the physical, she couldn’t find any. Even that tiny scar on the back of his hand didn’t detract from his appeal. “That you are used to getting your own way.”
“Aw, that’s so easy it’s almost like cheating.”
“Have you figured out that I’m used to getting my own way, too?” she asked. Suddenly she didn’t feel as if things were just happening to her. She was in control. Of Rafe, the baby and this entire afternoon. The pregnancy had thrown her. Brought up junk from her childhood she’d thought she’d moved on from, but now she was getting her groove back.
“Oh, I knew that from the moment I entered Shady Harry’s and saw you standing behind the bar.”
“Did you?” she asked. “I thought it was my Shady Harry’s T-shirt that caught your attention.”
The spicy scent of his aftershave brought an onslaught of memories of him moving over her. She’d buried her face in his neck. Damn, he’d smelled good. Then and now.
“Well, that and your legs. Red, you’ve got killer legs.”
She looked down at them. Seemed kind of average to her. But she wasn’t about to argue with a compliment like that.
“I like your ass,” she admitted.
He winked at her, and then turned so that she could see it. He wore a slim-fitting suit that looked tailor-made. Given who he was, it probably was.
He was going to be king.
She had no business flirting with him. Or even staying here a moment longer.
“Sorry.”
“What?” he asked. “Why? What happened?”
She shrugged. No way was she admitting she was intimidated by his title. But that was the truth. She wasn’t in control of that. No matter how much she wanted to be.
“This suit doesn’t do anything for me, does it? I asked Gabe if these pants made me look fat but he said no.”
She had seen pictures of his entire family in the newspaper and knew that the Gabe he referred to was Gabriel Montoro, his younger brother.
She laughed, as she knew he wanted her to. But inside something had changed. She no longer owned this afternoon. “I should go.”
“Why? What happened just now?”
“I remembered that you aren’t just a rich guy from Miami who came to Key West for the weekend. That your life isn’t your own and I really don’t have a place in it.”
His expression tightened and he turned away from her. She studied him as he paced over to his bed and looked down at the expensive leather suitcase lying there. She’d interrupted his packing. He probably didn’t really have time for her this afternoon.
“You said you never knew your father.” With an almost aristocratic expression, he glanced over his shoulder at her. She had the feeling she was seeing the man who would be king. And she had to admit he made her a little bit nervous. Maybe it was simply the fact that she knew he was going to be a king now. But it seemed as if he was different. More regal in his bearing than he had been during their weekend together.
“Yes. I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”
“I did know my father and my grandfather and great-grandfather. From my birth I was named to follow in their footsteps. I’ve never deviated from that expectation, and to be honest, I took a certain pride in carrying on our family name and trying to set an example for my brother and sister.”
“I’m getting a poor little rich boy feeling here. You have been given a lot of opportunities in your lifetime and now you have the chance to lead a nation,” she said, but inside she sort of understood what he was getting at. His entire life had been scripted since birth.
