The Italian's Pregnant Prisoner Read online

  She wasn’t locked in this apartment. She wasn’t locked up anywhere.

  Resolutely, she walked toward her front door and put on a long winter coat. Then she grabbed her plaid scarf and tossed it over her shoulders, wrapping it around her neck.

  She made her way down to the city streets, doing her best to enjoy the cheer and sparkle of the Christmas decorations that were already beginning to go up in late November.

  She didn’t feel very cheerful, but the city looked cheerful. And she had the freedom to move about in it as she chose. So, she supposed there was something cheering in that.

  She kept on walking past a row of tall, rusty brick buildings with bold white trim and a beautiful little park. The narrow streets were quiet until they opened up to a larger intersection, and she realized exactly where she’d been wandering all this time.

  To her very favorite department store for window-shopping. The large store was bedecked with Christmas lights, and they were like a welcome sign as far as Charlotte was concerned.

  Suddenly, she was seized with a bit of inspiration. It was the holidays, and undoubtedly there would be stores that needed more help. She had always enjoyed working in shops. She liked talking to people. It was better than sitting around feeling morose—that was for sure. And all right, maybe it wasn’t a long-term plan. Or maybe it was. It was easy to get into this idea that if she didn’t perform an entire country’s art program, or get higher education that she wasn’t doing anything. But she enjoyed working in retail. After so many years by herself it gave her a chance to be with people. It made her happy. When her life had been bleak, it had brought her joy.

  Well, her life was damned bleak now.

  At least she could look at other people who were smiling for the next few weeks. She could enjoy the hustle and bustle of Christmas. Get out of her own head.

  And so, resolute, she marched right beneath the green awnings and into the shop, and decided she was going to ask for a job.

  * * *

  “It’s difficult to explain, Mr. Costa, but then your particular injury always was.” Rafe’s doctor was looking at CAT scan results in front of him. “It seems to me that you injured your brain again in your most recent fall. And that the trauma and swelling of the brain tissue, coupled with this new healing has given your brain the chance to right some of the previous damage.”

  He stared blankly at the man in front of him. The man with gray hair and deep lines on his face. Dr. Keller was the same physician he’d been going to since he’d first come to London, but he’d never actually seen the man before.

  He could now. He could see everything.

  “So basically,” Rafe said, slowly, “it did what you hoped my brain would do on its own in the aftermath of the original accident?”

  “Yes.”

  “Will it reverse itself? As it keeps healing? Will it just go back to how it was?” He’d expected each morning since to open his eyes and be met with darkness. Instead, there had been morning light filtering through his window. And he’d been able to see it.

  But Charlotte was still gone.

  The doctor lifted a shoulder. “I can’t answer that. I don’t see why it would, but then, I would not have told you another knock on the head would have fixed your sight, or I would have suggested we hit you with a hammer a long time ago.”

  The doctor was joking, but Rafe did not feel like laughing.

  It had been a week since his fall at the castle had resulted in his first glimpse of light in over five years. A week since Charlotte had left him. And in that time, his vision had been growing steadily clearer. At first, it was just an increase in light and shape. But as the swelling from the impact had receded, his vision had begun to return in force.

  His vision still wasn’t perfect, or so he was told. It looked good enough to him. But then, his frame of reference wasn’t so great, considering he had seen nothing more than vague, muddy gray on black for half a decade.

  He should be...he didn’t know. He should be happy. He could see light again. But the light in his soul had gone out. Charlotte was gone, and his vision was back. And if there was anything on earth more ironic than that, he could not think of it. As if he had had to lose her in order to gain this.

  It hurt. Everything. His head, from the injury. His chest, from the loss of her.

  And he knew that he was supposed to sit here and smile and be happy because he was some sort of medical marvel and miracle, just in time for the holiday season. And undoubtedly, once the tabloids seized hold of all of this, he would be expected to give commentary.

  He had no commentary. Not for anyone or anything.

  He scowled, and did his best to thank the doctor before heading out of the office and back onto the streets. He had chosen to walk today, simply because he could. Without a guide or aid of a cane.

  He hated the Christmas decorations. The lights strung overhead. It was all a mockery of turmoil that was happening in his soul. The general cheer of the place.

  That there was anyone smiling in the world at all when he felt like he did.

  It was his own fault that Charlotte had left him, and he knew it. He just...he could not face any more loss. And he had been certain that love was the poison that seemed to generate loss in his life.

  But then, Charlotte was gone. She was gone, and it hurt now. Whether or not he had ever said those words to her. Whether or not he had ever truly taken it on board when she had said them. Saying he didn’t believe in it. None of it mattered at all. Not when he felt like he was being crushed beneath the weight of his despair.

  He walked through the lobby of his building with barely a glance at the opulent settings. A strange thing. But he could hardly be bothered to take in the details of the place that he had not acquired until after he lost his vision.

  The one thing he had enjoyed in the ensuing week was the view from his office. He had chosen well. Even if he had chosen out of a kind of petty need to keep something from other rich men. He was enjoying it now. As much as he could enjoy anything.

  He got into the gilded lift—which, he thought, was a bit gaudy actually and he was going to have it changed—and pushed the button that would take him up to his office floor.

  When he got out, his PA was sitting at the desk looking agitated. “You have visitors,” she remarked.

  She looked worried, and he was not used to having the sense that his PA was ever worried. But then, he wondered if she was just very good at keeping her voice calm, and if she actually frequently looked worried and he just hadn’t known it.

  “Why did you allow visitors in? You know I’m not in a good mood.”

  “Well,” she said. “As terrifying as you are, I wasn’t really sure how I was going to refuse two princes.”

  He muttered a vile curse beneath his breath. Of course, Adam and Felipe were here.

  “There is, of course, no way you could refuse either of them. They’re royal asses. But I will deal with them. Don’t worry.”

  He passed through the antechamber, and into his office, where Adam—who was indeed hideously scarred—and Felipe were waiting.

  “You look terrible,” Rafe said by way of greeting.

  He had never actually seen his friend since his accident had left him scarred.

  “It’s true, then,” Adam said, his expression fierce. “You can see?”

  “Is that the going rumor already? I’ve only just started to accept it as fact. I didn’t realize it was common knowledge.”

  “It is not common knowledge,” Adam said, sounding imperious. “I am not common. But Belle was in touch with your housekeeper at the German castle, and, it may have come up.”

  “I should fire Della for her indiscretion.”

  “You won’t,” Felipe said simply, a bit too cheerfully.

  “I just might,” he returned.

  “You can see,” Adam said, “but you are in a worse temper than when last I saw you. Which leads me to believe that the other rumor is also true. You have los
t your hostage.”

  “She was not a hostage,” Rafe said. “But to confirm your suspicions, yes. Charlotte has moved back to her own home.”

  Charlotte, whom he had made a concerted effort not to see since his vision had returned. Were he to actually lay eyes on her, he would lose himself completely. Promise her anything. There were limits to his strength.

  “Well, she was with you, and then she was seen running out of my palace very late at night a week ago, and no one has seen her since.”

  “I’m sure someone has seen her since,” Rafe said drily.

  “This is why Belle was digging around,” Adam said. “Because Briar heard that she had fled the castle. They were concerned.”

  “And none of you thought to ask me?”

  “You’re a grumpy bastard,” Felipe said. “We didn’t want to have to talk to you about it until we could force you to.”

  “Some friends I have.”

  “The very best,” Adam said, his tone hard. “Which is why I’m here to ask you if you’re stupid.”

  “Do I look stupid to you?”

  Adam appraised him, his dark eyes hard. “Yes, you do look rather stupid. Because you’re standing here without that woman. And she clearly cared for you. Is having your children, and... What did you do?”

  “She left me,” Rafe said, his voice a growl. “I did not send her away. She left of her own free will.”

  “For no reason?” Felipe asked.

  “No reason that truly mattered,” Rafe answered.

  “Except, clearly it mattered enough for her to leave.”

  “The two of you, you get married, and you think you know things. But you had to kidnap your wives. So, perhaps you don’t know any more than I do, and you just got lucky.”

  “What happened?” Adam asked, his voice growing sincere.

  He disliked all of this even more with Adam being sincere.

  “She told me that she loved me. She demanded that I love her in return.” His friends only stared at him. “I don’t love her.”

  “Well, that’s a bunch of bull—” Felipe said.

  “You’re an expert on love now?” Rafe cut in.

  “More so than you,” Felipe said. “Clearly.”

  “Love has never done a damn thing for me in my life. Specifically, loving Charlotte cost me my sight. It is a cosmic joke, or perhaps a message from the universe that my sight was restored after she left me.”

  “Or perhaps not. Perhaps it is simply a coincidence, and you are looking for any reason you can find to keep yourself from being happy.” Felipe was simply standing there, regarding him far too closely with his enigmatic gaze.

  “I do not want to keep myself from being happy,” Rafe insisted. “That would be madness. Obviously, I would like some form of happiness in my life. If I didn’t care about that, why would I have gone to all this trouble to earn all of this damned money. To buy all of these damn things.”

  He picked a figurine up off his desk, one that reminded him of that best-beloved item his father had broken before throwing him out.

  He hurled it against the wall.

  “There, you see? And because I have money it means nothing to me. I can replace it. That is happiness.”

  “You are utterly full of rubbish,” Felipe said. “You don’t want to be happy. Because God forbid you feel anything good. Then it might be taken away from you.”

  “I like things I can control,” Rafe said. “Do not tell me for one moment you aren’t exactly the same.”

  “I was,” Felipe said. “I was exactly the same as you, until I realized that a life you can control is empty.”

  “You think I don’t understand?” Adam asked. “I have loved someone and lost them. I loved my first wife,” he continued. “And she died. And falling in love with Belle was the most wretched, unwelcome thing that had ever happened since. I did not want to open up my heart. Not after everything I had lost. But I have. And it’s worth it. It’s worth it, because I have found the kind of happiness that I didn’t know I could feel ever again. A kind of happiness I didn’t know was possible.”

  “I’m not going to submit myself to certain loss,” Rafe said, digging in. “Love costs too much. I’ve been there. I have done it. I have no desire to ever experience it again.”

  “And what about your children?” Adam asked. “Will you hold yourself back from them? What kind of father will you be? Will you be just like your own father?”

  Rafe reached out, and he saw exactly where he could grab his friend by his jacket. Because he could see now. So really, Adam should be more careful. “Your face has already experienced damage, and I would hate to add to it,” Rafe said. “But I will.”

  “I’m only saying,” Adam said. “It seems to me that your father, your biological father, was emotionally stunted enough to kick out his mistress and his son. When you insulate yourself, you turn into a monster. Believe me—I know. I have been the monster in the castle, Rafe. Hiding away from the world. Shutting everyone out, doing terrible things. And love—Belle—that’s how I found my way out. You are being offered salvation. A way out of the darkness. Maybe that’s your metaphor.”

  Rafe took a step back, releasing his hold on Adam’s jacket. “I will be there for my children. But this...is too much to ask.”

  “Because someday you might lose her?” Felipe asked.

  “I lost her once,” Rafe said, “and it quite literally nearly killed me.”

  “So you end things with her now? Before she could end them. Before something bad happened to her.” Adam looked around the room; then he crossed to the desk and picked up a pointed letter opener. “I feel that perhaps you should go ahead and gouge your eyes out.”

  Felipe arched a brow. “I can’t decide if I’m disgusted or truly impressed by this turn of events.”

  “I’m just saying. If you’re going to try to prevent yourself from loss by causing the loss yourself, then you want to gouge out your own eyes. You have no guarantee you won’t lose your sight again. Or perhaps, if that’s too extreme, just tape them shut. While you have the ability to see, perhaps you should simply live the life of a blind man so that just in case something happens and this miracle is taken from you, you won’t be disappointed.”

  The two men stared at each other, and Rafe said nothing.

  Adam set the letter opener back down. “Or perhaps, my friend, for as long as you have sight, you should allow yourself to see.”

  “Damn,” Felipe said.

  “I’m ready to go,” Adam said.

  And with that, his scarred friend stormed out of the office.

  Felipe lingered for a moment, regarding Rafe carefully.

  “He has a point,” Felipe said. “It pains me to admit it, but he does. He also had a point when I sent Briar away. About darkness and light, and the choices we all must make. The three of us have spent a fair amount of time standing in darkness, Rafe. Adam told me I had a choice to make. To continue to live in the shadows, or to walk into the light. You have that same choice now. You can have her. So you’d better damn well take her. If not, you aren’t the man I believed you to be all this time. You are not the man I thought I knew.” He reached out and touched the letter opener on Rafe’s desk. “I know that you always felt unequal to us at school. Because we were royalty and you were from the gutter. But you were always a man whose stature exceeded that of nearly everyone around us. A man who had everything required of him to be a king. If you don’t exhibit that now, then I am not sure if I ever really knew you.”

  And then it was Felipe’s turn to walk out, leaving Rafe there with nothing more than a hollow ache in his chest.

  Slowly he walked to the window and looked out at the view. At the sprawling vista of London below. Those iconic landmarks and the pink-and-orange sunset, slowly illuminating the waters of the Thames. Color. Light. He could see. And if it was taken from him again, it would surely be a deep, dark grief. To be reminded of the beauty that the world held only to lose it was unthinkable.
But so was robbing himself of even a day without his sight now that it was back.

  To gouge his eyes out now would be a foolish thing; there was no denying it.

  To send Charlotte away when he had her love...

  How was it any different? He was choosing to stand in the darkness when he could have the light. Was choosing to be isolated when he could have love.

  But if he went after her, if he saw her, he would be lost to himself. There would be no controlling it. There would be no controlling his emotions, no regaining dominion over his heart. If he allowed himself to love her, then he was at the mercy of things that he could not control at all.

  And so he had a choice. He could stand here with that semblance of pride, of being intact, and he could be alone. Or he could throw himself at her mercy and take the risk of being broken again.

  The very idea was anathema to him. The idea of such a risk, the idea of such a loss.

  But he thought of his life as it had been before when he’d had love. The warm house he had lived in, the time spent in Charlotte’s arms. It was not the love that was lost. Love was the warmth. It was the color. It was the light.

  Rafe had been given light again. But it was his choice as to whether or not he would remain in the darkness.

  He was done with darkness.

  He turned away from the window and strode out of his office.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHARLOTTE WAS EXHAUSTED after a full shift. The shop was busy with people for the holidays, but she was enjoying working behind the food counters very much. She had never seen such a thing. All those lovely pastries stacked behind glass cases, like an edible rainbow that she wanted to eat in its entirety.

  In fact, she had brought home a little box of cakes to enjoy for her dinner. Because she was sad, and she was pregnant, and if she could not have Rafe, then she would have cake. Because quite frankly a woman should have love and good sex or pastries.

  Ideally a woman would have all three, she conceded as she flopped down onto the couch and opened up her box of cakes.