The job was what mattered, he reminded himself as he glanced at his watch and snuffed out a rogue pang of resentment when he saw the time. His duty. His responsibilities. Continuing the charade for the good of the crown. Nothing else.
‘We should go,’ he said, pushing off the tree trunk against which they were watching the sun set in companionable silence. ‘The train will be waiting to take us to our next royal engagement.’
‘Do we have to?’
He bit back the ‘no’ that was on the tip of his tongue and got to his feet. ‘Yes,’ he said, as he extended his hand to help her up. ‘We do.’
CHAPTER TWELVE
ON THEIR RETURNto the train, Ivo had Sofia’s things brought to his carriage on the basis that his en suite had a double shower, of which, over the next week, they made ample use.
Every time she thought about the dreamy afternoon they’d spent at the castle, a bloom of warmth spread across her chest. He hadn’t run a mile from everything she’d told him. On the contrary, he’d reciprocated, just as she’d hoped. He’d seemed as reluctant to leave as she had been. He’d taken her hand as they’d headed back to the car at sunset, when there had been no journalists around and no members of the public to convince. He hadn’t had to do that. She’d have followed him regardless. She’d follow him anywhere.
Drawing encouragement from how that afternoon had gone, Sofia doubled down on her efforts to subtly show him how she felt. When they weren’t on show, discussing the tour or driving each other to the heady heights of pleasure, she shared with him more of her life before their engagement. She told him about the jobs she’d had prior to working at the palace, where she lived and how she spent the little time off she had. Some things required deflection, of course, such as why she had no friends to speak of, not even a bridesmaid. The last thing she wanted to hash out with him was the fundamental flaw she had that pushed people away. But the more mundane things, like her favourite food and what books she enjoyed reading, she was perfectly happy to reveal. So too, it seemed, was he, and it was these little things, the things that no one else knew about him, that fanned the flame of hope that flickered in her heart.
She’d recently worked out that the disappointment she’d begun to feel at the thought of the convenience aspect of their arrangement had indicated a deep, burning desire for a proper marriage to a husband who loved her the way she loved him. She’d always believed that that was an impossible dream, and she’d done her very best to accept it. She’d tried so hard not to care. So hard not to wish. Not to resent him for his honesty. But it had been so very tough. And now she felt as though she could both care and wish, because she had the sense that she was beginning to matter to him and not just because of the practical skills she could offer or for the sake of the monarchy. He paid attention. Sometimes she caught him looking at her with such warmth that her bones melted. They were developing the connection she craved so much.
What was happening filled her heart with growing joy. She felt as though he was beginning to see her in a new light, which was quietly, wonderfully thrilling. The bright shiny future she’d dreamed of felt within closer reach than it ever had before, and she so badly wanted it she felt giddy.
And she wasn’t the only one to have noticed the shift in their relationship, if the article inCiao!, the country’s leading celebrity magazine, was anything to go by.
Today is the last day of the Royal Tour…
She read the words for approximately the hundredth time as she sat in the back of the car that was winding through the streets of Oviense.
And, oh, how we’ll miss it. This past week and a half would have melted the most cynical of hearts.
Who could have remained unmoved at the sight of the King catching the Queen in his manly arms when she stumbled at the ruins of the Temple of Zeus at Neapolis?
How cute was it when, at the launch of the Navy’s newest battleship, they finished each other’s sentences?
The long, lingering glances they shared over the magnum of biodynamically produced Pinot Noir, bottled in honour of their nuptials, made this fan want to yell, ‘Get a room!’ Their chemistry is off the charts.
Despite the rumours that once abounded, and its inauspicious start, there is clearly nothing convenient about this marriage. If the way their hands are practically welded together is anything to go by, they’re mad about each other!
How long will it be before The Palace of Montemare hears the pitter-patter of tiny feet?
We say, watch this space in nine months’ time…
Sofia switched off her phone but the words she’d committed to memory danced through her head. The accompanying photos were burned onto her retinas. She could recall each of those occasions.
When she’d tripped at the ruins and Ivo had caught her, she’d gazed into his eyes and the world had ground to a halt. The concern on his face had brought her heart to her throat and stuck it there. He hadn’t seemed to want to let go and neither had she.
At the launch of HMSIndomitohe’d had to address the Navy. For fun, she’d challenged him to incorporate the word cornucopia into his speech. She hadn’t expected him to comply but he had, twice.
At the vineyard, over a glass of the most delicious wine she’d ever tasted, he’d suggested some of the things he might like to do with it if they took it back to bed with them, and she’d nearly dragged him off right then and there.
And then yesterday, in front of the crowds that had gathered to greet the Royal Train when it pulled into the station, he’d responded to calls for a kiss by sweeping her into his arms and giving them exactly what they wanted. Thoroughly and at length.
Had she shown him that he could both work hard and play? That love was nothing to be feared? Could she dare to believe that he was beginning to return her feelings?
The little voice in her head warned not to get carried away, to remember how fragile her heart was and the harm it could come to if she didn’t take care. After all, Ivo hadn’t said anything to indicate that his feelings for her had changed, and he’d never been anything but upfront with her. But her misgivings were drowned out by the conviction that actions spoke louder than words, as she herself had demonstrated every minute of every hour of the last ten days.
What to do when they returned to the palace and the real work began now occupied her every waking thought. Should she tell him how she felt? Ask him howhefelt? Or was it too soon? Would it give him the nudge he needed or send him back to square one? She was in a constant state of flux. Her emotions were whipping about all over the place. But she had to keep it together this one last time.
The car drew up at the square in the centre of which a statue of Ivo’s father—a tribute to his long and stable rule—was due to be unveiled. They got out and, with a wave to the crowds, he took her hand. He must have done so a hundred times over these past ten days but the contact still sent a sizzle of electricity up her arm. Only now she felt protected, special and wanted too.
They walked up the approach to the fabric-draped statue, smiling and talking and engaging with the people that lined it. They stepped onto the stage and with effort Sofia pushed aside the complicated tangle of thoughts and emotions that pulled her in so many different directions. She had to concentrate. This particular event meant a lot to him. The fact that he’d trusted her enough to request she take a look over what he wanted to say meant a lot toher.
