Revealed: A Prince and A Pregnancy

While the silence grew.

‘Too light?’ she said finally.

‘Yes,’ he said, and poured the next.

This one had more body and a delicate fruity finish. ‘Nice,’ she murmured. Rafael said nothing, just moved on to the next.

They sipped. They tasted. As far as Simone was concerned, this was another very fine wine. A little more robust than the second one. A peppery low note in there somewhere. Smooth clean finish. But the second wine had her vote.

‘Which one, princess?’

‘I quite like it when you call me princess,’ she said reflectively. ‘It feels a lot like an endearment and a challenge all rolled into one.’ She sipped her wine and risked a glance in his direction. ‘I thought you should know.’

‘Which wine?’ he repeated tightly. No princesses present.

‘The second one.’

He nodded and set the bottle aside. Whether he agreed with her choice was open to speculation. Maybe he simply wanted to get the wine choosing over with so he could leave. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea.

He reached for the red wine and poured for them both. Angels Tears. Evocative name. Beautifully coloured wine. She sipped, and sipped again. It was divine. ‘Oh, yes,’ she murmured. ‘Luc’s going to love this.’

‘And you?’ Rafael had yet to touch his own glass. His eyes were on her, searching for her reaction to his wine. ‘Do you like it?’

‘Do you care?’

He looked away, towards the fireplace with the flowers. ‘No.’

No. Heaviness descended, and with it regret for what could have been and wasn’t. It didn’t have to be like this. It really didn’t. ‘It’s brilliant,’ she said quietly. ‘But then, so are you. You always were.’

He flinched as if she’d hit him.

Simone bowed her head and cupped her hands around her wine goblet.

‘Tell Gabrielle I had to leave.’ Rafe’s voice sounded strained and husky, as if he’d already shouted himself hoarse. ‘Tell her I’m sorry, and that everything will be okay on her wedding day.’

‘I will.’ She gazed at the dark and shimmering liquid in the goblet. The image blurred. More tears were coming. Her tears.

‘Simone?’ he said next, and she closed her eyes and let the pain of her name on his lips slice through her because with it came pleasure and take it she would.

‘Rafael.’

‘I’m glad you liked the wine.’

She waited until his footsteps had receded before she finally let her tears fall. ‘Me too.’

Chapter Three

‘YOU do know that you’re being an ass?’

Rafe looked up from the paperwork on his desk and regarded his sister through narrowed eyes with grim humour. She’d been circling around the topic of his treatment of Simone now for at least half an hour, waiting for an opening that he hadn’t given her. This wasn’t the tack he would have advised her to take with him, but he figured she’d find that out soon enough. ‘How so?’

‘The way you’re making Simone feel unwelcome.’

‘She is unwelcome.’

‘She’s my bridesmaid. She’s the sister of the groom. And pretty soon she’s going to be family.’

Rafe scowled. He really didn’t need the reminder.

‘Tell me, Rafe, what are you going to do come Christmas time when we’re all together? Or when you’re invited to the christening?’

‘What christening?’ His gaze flew to his sister’s stomach. His own stomach lurched unevenly. Caverness was hard on its children. All of its children. He hoped to hell that with this child, things would be different. ‘You’re not…?’

‘Not yet,’ she murmured. ‘But some day I plan to be, many times over, and I want you in my children’s lives.’

Oh, dear Lord, now they were multiplying. ‘Couldn’t we have this discussion after you have them?’

Gabrielle eyed him sternly. ‘My point is that you and Simone are two of the three most important people in my life. Can’t you at least try to be in the same room as her for more than five minutes?’

‘Five minutes is a long time,’ he said. Especially when a man was torn between wanting to strip a woman down to her skin and bury himself inside her, or, conversely, strip her to her skin, tie her to a bedpost and flay her for causing him such pain. Either way, getting her naked seemed to be a priority. ‘I’ve been working my way up from three.’

‘Can’t you just—?’

‘No,’ he interrupted, in a low, controlled voice that nonetheless carried with it a warning she would do well to heed. ‘I can’t.’

‘Why not? Why not invite her over and show her the vineyard? She’d love to see what we’ve done here. I know she would. But whenever I say come over, she says no.’

‘Smart woman.’

‘Yes, she is. Also beautiful, generous, kind, and the only woman you’ve ever truly loved,’ finished Gabrielle cuttingly. ‘Which is why you’re being an ass.’

‘Isn’t this where you came in?’

‘Yes.’ Gabrielle regarded him darkly. ‘But it wouldn’t have had to be a circular argument if you’d shown some sense. You told me I was stuck in the past when I said I wanted to return to France. You said I was mad to go and visit Josien. Well, maybe I was mad to think that Josien would want to see me, but I tried, and I’ve moved on, and now I’m marrying the man I love beyond measure, and Simone, my beloved childhood friend, is back in my life. I’m not the one stuck in the past, Rafael. I’m not the one who’s too scared to look back because there’s too much pain there that I haven’t dealt with yet.’ Her eyes begged his forgiveness. Her words cut him to the bone. ‘You are.’

When Rafael worked, he worked hard. When Rafael brooded he worked harder. He’d taken to the fields after his words with Gabrielle. Taken the Toyota and a trailer and an axe so he could cut down a dead and dangerously leaning tree. It would drop down on a border fence regardless of where he placed his cut so he’d brought the fence cutters too, and wire and materials for rebuilding the fence later. He might get around to putting the fence back up today.

He might not.

Why the hell would someone want to look back on a childhood like his? On a mother who’d ruled with an iron rod, or a leather horsewhip or whatever else had come to hand. A mother whose moods had see-sawed faster than light. Remote one minute, a banshee the next, but never ever loving towards her children. Gabrielle she’d tolerated, on occasion. Her feelings for her son had been crystal clear and brutally unwavering.

She hated him.

Rafael smiled grimly. Over the years, the feeling had become entirely mutual.

The slam of his axe bit deep into the tree’s heartwood. The axe was small. The tree was huge. It would take a while to bring it down.

Good.