gave the slightest nod of his head.
‘Sophia came to me. She told me her diagnosis. She told me the one thing she wanted in the world was to have a baby before it was too late. I couldn’t say no to her. I just couldn’t. I loved her. People had speculated for years that we would marry—but it never entered our heads. Sophia had plans—she had big plans. She was so creative...she loved art and design. But she also had a really inquisitive nature. She was torn between design and journalism. She loved to write. She had sketches and sketches of dress designs.’
He sighed,
‘And then...’ he lifted his hand ‘...the cancer.’ He shook his head. ‘It was as if all her dreams just evaporated. She’d already made up her mind before she came to see me. If we had a child together it would seal the fate of our two kingdoms. Sophia was an only child. When she died her whole dynasty would die with her. She didn’t want that to happen.’ His voice steadied. ‘Neither of us wanted that to happen.’
He pressed his lips together.
‘You probably already know this, but when Sophia’s father dies Annabelle will be Queen of Leruna. If he dies before Annabelle comes of age I’ll be Regent to the two principalities.’
His lifted his eyes and met her gaze full-on. The implications were huge. He was telling her he’d made a pact with his childhood friend. They’d married. They’d had a child together. They’d cemented their relationship and safeguarded the future of two countries. How noble.
She was trying hard not to be bitter. And there was still a tiny flicker of hope. He hadn’t said Sophia was the love of his life. He’d said he loved her. That was different.
Ruby felt her voice wobble. ‘She was really young to have breast cancer, Alex.’
‘I know.’ He paused. ‘She had the gene.’ It came out in a whisper.
Her breath caught in her throat. ‘Sophia had the gene?’ Everyone had heard about ‘the gene’ by now—the mutation linked with breast and ovarian cancer. ‘What about Annabelle?’
He shook his head. ‘I had her tested. She’s not affected.’
Her breath left her in a whoosh. ‘Oh, wow. You must be so relieved.’ She toyed with the glass of water in her hands. ‘I know it’s a silly question, but was there nothing else they could do? It’s just that...wouldn’t the pregnancy have made a difference to her cancer? I thought they recommend that you don’t get pregnant if you have that type of cancer?’
His face was serious. ‘Sophia was very single-minded. She knew that she would die eventually. Having a child was the most important thing to her in the world. She could have had some type of chemotherapy while she was pregnant—but she refused. She did have some immediately following delivery. But she was so weak. So tired. She only took the treatment to prolong her time with Annabelle. Once she realised how sick it was making her, and how it really didn’t make any difference to the outcome, she decided to stop everything. She wanted some time with Annabelle.’
‘And did she have time with Annabelle?’
Ruby was trying to work out the impact on the child. Annabelle couldn’t have been much more than a baby. Was there any chance that what had happened then might have had an impact on her future? It seemed unlikely. There was lots of debate as to when a child formed its first memories. Most researchers thought it happened around the age of three. But Ruby had seen a lot of things in her work that had made her question that.
‘She had a few months. She spent every possible second with Annabelle. By the end she was just too tired, too sick. Annabelle was in her arms when she died. She was only eleven months old.’
‘It must have been devastating for you.’
‘She was my childhood friend—the person I grew up with. If my father hadn’t had the stroke, if Sophia hadn’t had breast cancer, lots of things might have been different.’
Something flickered across his eyes. A tiny moment of recognition. An awareness. A regret.
‘I’m sorry, Ruby,’ he whispered.
Tears filled her eyes. It was an acknowledgement, however brief, of what had happened between them. He was laying everything out on the table for her. It was just the two of them. No one else to interrupt. No one else to interfere.
He reached over and touched her cheek—just as he had all those years ago in Paris. He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.
Silence. For the longest time. Lots of words unspoken.
His fingers stroked across her cheek. So many things wanted to spill out of her. But her frustration was dissipating. The years had passed. She couldn’t be angry with him any more. She’d lived a whole ten years of her life without him. He’d always been in the background of her mind. No matter how hard she’d tried to push him away. But her memories of Alex were memories of one New Year’s Eve and a moment in time.
The Alex she saw in front of her now was the one that really existed. A father. A prince with the responsibilities of a country—two countries. Someone who’d set aside his career ambitions to fulfil his duty to his country. Someone who’d just told her that he was sorry. That meant more than anything.
She’d been harbouring an illusion for the last ten years. Trouble was, the reality was better than the dream.
She felt a rush of blood to her cheeks, but Alex had reached across the table and taken her hand.
‘Thank you, Ruby. Thank you for doing this for me. Thank you for doing this for my daughter.’
She stood up quickly. His daughter.
‘It’s time to go. I need to get back and plan for the nursery with Annabelle and her nanny.’
He was being kind. He was being sweet. He was thanking her for doing her job.
Her job. The one he was paying her to do.
If Alex was disturbed by her abruptness he didn’t show it. He just signalled to the waiter and left some money on the table.
Her cheek was burning from where he’d touched her. It almost felt as if he’d left a mark on her skin.
She needed some distance. She needed some space.
Most of all she needed to remember why she was here—to assess a little girl. Nothing more. Nothing less.
FOR A MOMENT earlier today Alex had been sure there was something in the air between him and Ruby.
He’d managed to persuade his security team to stay a comfortable distance away from them. He knew the palace must be suffocating for Ruby. But he’d never considered it might be suffocating to Annabelle.
Ruby was here to do a job. She’d already made an impact on his staff by insisting she stay in the staff quarters next to Annabelle. He’d tried not to smirk when he’d heard Rufus, his private secretary, scold her for calling him Alex.
‘You
