Princess from the Shadows Maisey Yates Read online

  “I don’t know, Luca,” Carlotta said. “What is this thing we’re going to?”

  “A charity event in the city.”

  “Can I go?” Luca asked.

  Rodriguez looked down at Luca. “You wouldn’t like it. You’d have to wear a tie, and you couldn’t jump over anything.”

  Luca made a face. “Then I don’t want to go.”

  “Neither do I,” Rodriguez said.

  “And we’re going because …?” Carlotta asked.

  “Because it’s a good cause. And apparently my father goes every year. I didn’t find out until this afternoon and I came straight home.”

  “Oh,” she said, feeling a bit subdued by that piece of information. “How is your father?” she asked.

  “Not well. But not any worse.”

  “Well. good. I guess.”

  He shrugged, his emotions as unreadable as ever.

  “Rodriguez, will you watch a movie with me?” Luca asked, his green eyes round and earnest.

  Rodriguez hesitated for a moment. “Sure, Luca. We can watch something while your mama gets ready.”

  Luca smiled and grabbed Rodriguez’s hand. And then Carlotta really couldn’t feel angry at him, because even though he was still tense with Luca, he was trying. That meant everything to her. If he hadn’t been able to treat Luca well … there was no way she could have stayed. No way she could agree to marry him.

  “I’ll see you in a bit,” she said, watching as Luca led Rodriguez inside.

  And she fell a little harder for him right then.

  Rodriguez didn’t know when he’d relaxed, but he had. Gradually his muscles had stopped feeling tense. He’d stopped worrying so much about doing the wrong thing.

  And then, at some point, Luca had fallen asleep, his head resting against Rodriguez’s shoulder. Now, Rodriguez’s arm was asleep and Luca’s warmth had crossed over into too hot. But he didn’t want to move, for fear of waking the little boy.

  He also didn’t want to analyze exactly what Luca’s trust of him made him feel. Or how badly it would hurt when he lost it.

  Because he would.

  It was part of his life. No one ever maintained a connection with him. At some point he’d just accepted it was something in him, and he’d made it work for him.

  But the thought of losing Luca’s trust.

  At least he wouldn’t lose Carlotta’s. He seriously doubted he’d ever had it.

  “How was the movie?”

  He turned his head and saw Carlotta, her dark hair pulled back, large gold earrings highlighting her perfectly made-up features. She was wearing an ethereal white dress with a bold, black geometric pattern on the bodice, so at odds with the sheer, delicate fabric. But the pattern drew the eye to her figure, to her perfect, heavenly curves.

  “He slept through most of it,” Rodriguez said, forcing the words through his suddenly dry throat.

  “I hope he sleeps through the night. It’s too late for a nap.” She smiled, the look on her face so sweet, so full of love. A look reserved for her son.

  He envied it right then. So much that it was physical. Not just because he wished she would look at him with such emotion, but because he wished someone in his life could have. His mother, his father. Someone, anyone.

  Holding Luca against him, it was hard to imagine how anyone could strike a child. How someone could abandon a child. He hadn’t even been able to move Luca to allow the blood flow to return to his arm, much less leave him in the room by himself. The thought of walking out of his life forever, and leaving him with someone who would treat him horribly.

  Not even he could do that, and he’d always considered himself emotionally broken.

  “Angelina is here. She’s ready to take him.”

  “Can I carry him to his room?” he asked, a question he hadn’t known he was going to ask until he had.

  This time, she did smile at him. “Of course.”

  He scooped Luca up and stood from the couch, crossing the intimate living area, a room that had been designed for family movie viewings and games nights. One that had gone unused by his family.

  It was a short walk to Luca’s room, and the little boy didn’t even stir when Rodriguez laid him in bed and tucked the covers around his still form.

  Carlotta leaned in and kissed Luca’s forehead before they left the room.

  “Sorry about earlier,” she said.

  “Sorry I wasn’t able to tell you sooner.” Sorry I’ve been gone all week. Sorry I’ve been unable to face you.

  He didn’t say the last part out loud.

  “I understand. Things happen. I was. on edge already.” They walked down the stairs and greeted Angelina, who was on her way up, then headed out of the palace. Rodriguez’s convertible was parked in front, idling, ready for them. He opened Carlotta’s door for her, the subtle hint of perfume and a scent that was uniquely her assaulted him, causing a surge of lust to hit him in the gut.

  “Why were you on edge?” he said, as he started the car and maneuvered the vehicle out of the courtyard and through the first gate.

  “I talked to Natalia.”

  “Your twin?”

  “Yes. It was. good. I think.” She cleared her throat. “I think we might be on the way to fixing things. And even though she denied it, I think she’s met someone special. Natalia needs someone special. I’m happy for her.”

  “You sound thrilled.”

  She looked at him, her expression baleful. “It’s a lot for one afternoon.”

  “And Luca jumped over the red ball.”

  That got a laugh from her. “Yes, he did. Thank goodness for Luca. He makes everything so much. He brings perspective.”

  “Yes,” Rodriguez said. “He does.”

  “You seemed more comfortable with him tonight.”

  Carlotta looked at Rodriguez, trying to gauge his reaction. It was impossible, as always. “I’m figuring this all out. I’m not sure what, or who, I’m supposed to be to him yet. Not sure what he’ll want from me.”

  Carlotta had given it a lot of thought too. “I. He’ll always have a lot of friends, Rodriguez. And I have brothers, so he’ll have uncles. The one thing he’ll never have is a father.” She swallowed. “Unless you’re willing to step into that role.”

  Rodriguez tightened his hold on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white as he turned it sharply, driving expertly along the winding country road that bordered the beach.

  “I thought. I thought I would be able to keep distant, but he doesn’t allow that, does he?”

  “No.”

  “No child will,” he said, almost heavily.

  “Is that a problem?”

  “I was under the impression a wife and children wouldn’t alter my life. It didn’t seem to alter my father’s all that much.”

  Carlotta looked at her hands. “You’re not the same man as your father, Rodriguez. You must realize that.”

  “I do,” he said, his voice rusty.

  “Then it shouldn’t surprise you that you can’t ignore us quite as easily as your father was able to ignore you and your mother.”

  “He ignored me until my mother left. Then I became … a target of some kind. The way you look at Luca. I’ve never understood how she could leave me with him. And now, seeing you with him … she did not love me like that.”

  “Not every person is meant to be a parent.”

  “No,” he said. “I suppose that’s true.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. And she was, truly, deeply, the pain of his childhood running through her bones, making her ache for him. “You should have been given better. And I know you say it doesn’t matter. But it does. They owed you more than they gave you.”

  “Perhaps. Perhaps not.”

  She didn’t understand the cryptic statement and she didn’t have time to ask before he turned the radio on, effectively ending the conversation.

  She wished he wouldn’t close down on her. She wanted him, all of him. She’d given herself to h
im, not just her body, but her secrets. Everything in her.

  He had her heart. She didn’t want to admit it. Not to herself, and definitely not to him, but there wasn’t much point in denying it. She was in love with Rodriguez. Not the man he pretended to be, the man he showed the world, but the man he was inside.

  The man she sensed beneath that light, flirtatious facade. The man who had listened to her darkest secrets without even a hint of judgment. The man who had made love to her with such passion and fire she thought it would consume her.

  The man who took her son to the zoo. Who held him while he slept.

  The man he didn’t want her to see. The man he didn’t seem to want to be.

  They drove on in silence, and Carlotta kept her eyes glued to the lights of the city, drawing closer as they drove down the beach highway.

  The charity event was being held in Santa Christobel’s famous gardens. An expansive, outdoor area with flowers and plants from most of the world’s tropical locales.

  Rodriguez pulled the car up to the front of the walled garden, and gave his keys to the valet. He came around to her side, ever the charming gentleman, and helped her from the vehicle. She shivered when his hand touched her bare arm. He hadn’t touched her in a week. She missed his touch.

  Missed his kiss. Missed him most of all.

  She ignored the vast well of longing that opened up in her and followed him into the event. The air inside the walls of the garden was thick and perfumed. The expansive lawn area lit up by white paper lanterns.

  People were standing around, laughing, talking. Drinking. It was a light event, and money was flowing out of wealthy pockets and into the charity, which was nice to see.

  Except she wasn’t able to feel as happy about it as she should. Because she was still turning over their conversation in her mind. Trying to dissect it, to find the meaning.

  They owed you more than they gave you.

  Perhaps not.

  Did he really think he hadn’t deserved more than a mother who abandoned him and a father who beat him? How was that even possible?

  Rodriguez, at their first meeting at least, had seemed arrogant. Full of himself. The kind of man who thought women falling at his feet, or into his bed, was his due. Not the kind of man who would think he deserved the treatment his parents had shown him.

  Yet in those moments when she’d glimpsed the haunting emptiness in his eyes, she’d known there was more to him than that. More than that thin facade he wrapped around himself like a cloak.

  “Drink?” he asked, pulling two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter’s tray without waiting for her answer.

  She took it from him. “I thought we agreed that the refreshments at things like this were …”

  “Awful?”

  “That.”

  “Alcohol is still alcohol. It makes everything more fun, right?” he asked, his tone clipped.

  “I don’t know if that’s a healthy attitude,” she said, sensing a recklessness in him that shocked her. Bothered her a bit.

  “Maybe not. But then, I’m not really renowned for healthy attitudes, am I?”

  Whatever was on his mind was prevented from escaping by the people who came to talk to them. Everyone wanted a piece of the Crown Prince. The man who would soon be their king. And, of course, she was a fascination as well, since she was wearing his ring.

  Carlotta could sense Rodriguez’s growing annoyance and she tried to maintain her civility, tried to be friendly to the guests since he didn’t seem to be in the mood to play nice.

  “What’s wrong with you?” she hissed when one well-wisher departed.

  “I’m not in the mood for all of this.” He turned his dark gaze to her. “I want to be alone with you.”

  “You’ve had all week to be alone with me. You avoided me.”

  He trailed his finger along the line of her jaw. “A mistake, I think.”

  “Do you?” she asked, her voice flat.

  “Carlotta.” He leaned in and his cell phone rang. “Un momento. Hola…. Si…. How long does he have? … Why did no one tell me?” He paused for a moment. “We’ll be there in a moment.” He snapped the phone shut, his gaze not meeting hers. “We have to go. It’s my father. He’s. We have to go.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THE king was in a private wing of the hospital, but it was still very much a hospital. White, pastel and sterile. Carlotta hadn’t been in many hospitals.

  She hadn’t been back to one since Luca was born. She was thankful for it.

  The environment was unsettling, the smell of antiseptic stinging her nose. Even more unsettling was the dark emotion rolling off Rodriguez.

  When they arrived at his father’s room, the priest was there, standing by to administer last rites. Carlotta’s stomach clenched tight. This was very likely it, and she knew that Rodriguez wasn’t ready. How could he be ready?

  Her own father was a tyrant in many ways, and yet, she still couldn’t fathom the thought of losing him.

  “I will go in alone,” he said, his voice hard.

  Carlotta stayed outside the room, leaning against the wall, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, her heart pounding hard in her chest, tears threatening to fall. Her throat burned with the effort of keeping them back.

  She watched the hands on the clock turn. Watched the priest go in, and come back out. Felt her heart sinking lower.

  She finally moved to a chair, felt her eyes growing heavy.

  “It’s done, Carlotta.” Rodriguez’s thick voice shook her from the sleep she hadn’t realized she’d fallen into.

  “What? No,” she said, her heart aching.

  “He’s gone.” Rodriguez’s face was set, his expression immovable, flat as though it had been carved from stone.

  “Rodriguez, I’m …”

  “Let’s go,” he said.

  She stood from the chair, trying to shake off the dizziness that came from being jerked out of such a deep sleep.

  She followed him out of the hospital and into the cold night air. She felt her body start to shake. “I don’t. What do we do now? What does this mean?”

  “We’ll hold a press conference. First thing in the morning. And I am king.” He walked to where he had parked his car, at the front of the hospital. He had not used a parking space, and no one had corrected him.

  He jerked the driver’s side door open, then froze. “And my father is gone.”

  She rounded the car and threw her arms around him, not caring if it was what he wanted or not. He needed it, even if he would never admit it.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

  One of his arms came around her, his hand resting on her back. She felt his sharp intake of breath against her chest.

  “I’m sorry,” she said again, holding him to her. Just holding him.

  The chill night wind blew in from the sea, cold and wet, salty. It blended with the tears on her cheeks. She squeezed his hand. “Do you want to walk for a while?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  He kept hold of her hand, and they left the car, the door standing open. Everything seemed deserted this late. The hospital was out of the city by a couple of minutes, nestled in the hills, by the ocean. She and Rodriguez walked through the lot, to where it ended and a path began, through the grass and down to the sand. Neither of them spoke until they were standing at the edge of the ocean, the waves lapping near their feet.

  “My father is gone,” he said again. “And there is no chance of. fixing what passed between us. No chance at reconciliation. No chance for him to. apologize. He never would have, but the possibility was there. And it’s gone now. That was all I will ever have with my father. A childhood filled with pain and fear, and then years of stony silence when I avoided him as much as I possibly could.”

  He sucked in a sharp breath. “I do not know what to feel. If I should feel anything at all.”

  “There’s no right or wrong answer,” she said. “Just … whatever yo
u feel. That’s what you’re supposed to feel.”

  He didn’t speak. He lowered himself to the sand and sat. Carlotta sat with him, not caring that she was getting sand on her dress. Not caring about anything but being next to him. Comforting him.

  Rodriguez tried to breathe past the tightness in his chest. He wasn’t certain he could. Everything with his father was final now, and with that realization came both relief and a grief that went down into his bones. Made them hurt.

  “I have. simplified things,” he said slowly, not sure why he was sharing with her, but certain he could no longer hold it in. “I have dealt with my father on my terms, when I could. Separating myself from who I was, who he was, when I was a child. But it was never simple. I thought I could bury it. Make it so that it didn’t matter so I could deal with him at functions, in interviews. But so much of me hated him, Carlotta. For what he did to me. For making my mother leave.”

  His voice broke and he felt weak, humiliating emotion overpowering him, felt moisture in his eyes he couldn’t blame on the ocean spray. “Because she couldn’t live with a monster and I know, I understand, that she never could have taken his heir from him. But it was easier to be mad at her because she was gone. I didn’t have to try to exist with her.”

  Carlotta put her hand on the back of his neck, her touch strengthening him.

  “When she left. he took my toys. Because I was bad, he said. My mother left because I was bad, and a bad boy didn’t deserve toys.” He’d never told anyone any of this. He’d made himself believe it was stupid. Unimportant. At least he’d tried to force himself to believe it. “And after that, a while after, he hit me for the first time. For fidgeting in church. We’re supposed to set an example, you see, and I wasn’t being an example. I was Luca’s age then. Barely five. That’s why I learned to shut it all down. And I never have figured out how to feel. normal again.”

  She leaned her head against him, her face in the crook of his neck. He felt the dampness of her tears on his skin.

  “I’m supposed to be sad,” he said. “That he’s gone. But all I’m really sad about is that he’ll never be my father. Not really. It’s finished now. My mother. for all I know she’s gone too. I can’t ever have it back, and I think part of me believed that I would.”