Page 23 of The Prodigal Prince

“About...?”

“Why you left?”

Right. “No. I don’t think anyone does.”

“King Edward does. He might not know the details, but he knows you had a good reason.”

“I only know what he said earlier. I don’t know if he knows what the reason was.” Didn’t the king know just about everything? He knew about Mac’s moth... Queen Carlotta’s illness before anyone.

He stood close to Fiona but with his hands clasped behind his back to make sure he didn’t accidentally initiate contact with her and make her uncomfortable.

But she leaned back a bit, eliminating the space between them and her soft shirt resting against his chest.

“Thank you for coming forward today. You didn’t have to. You had to know you’d immediately be a suspect so you could have stayed hidden.” She let her head fall back against his shoulder.

“I could have been,” he said slowly, letting himself wrap his arms around her to steady her if needed. “But even though you didn’t know I knew much of anything about him, I feel like I know him. I had to do whatever I could to help, though it wasn’t much in the end.”

They stood there, looking through the gap in the curtains. From this room, they could see down into the gardens and out to the city beyond. It would start to wake up soon, but for the moment it remained more dark than not.

Fiona rested her arms on his. “Not all men would have acted like you did. Then or now. I still don’t know who this guy is - the one you say is your biological father. For now, I’ll take your word for it that his identity meant it would be best for you to stay away from us. They might have walked away, but not for those reasons. Many of them wouldn’t have kept an eye on us to make sure we stayed safe. And most of them wouldn’t have come forward knowing they’d be accused.”

He hadn’t thought about it in those terms. Instead, he’d only thought about how he was failing both of them while trying to protect them at the same time.

Fiona reached out and pulled the curtains shut, darkening the room again.

Mac let his arms fall to his sides. He’d enjoyed the feeling of Fiona in his arms. It had been a very, very long time since he’d held a woman at all, but he didn’t think anyone else would be quite the same.

She turned to face him. The cracks of light in the slight gap that remained showed him tear tracks on her cheeks.

Reaching for her, Mac pulled her back into his arms, this time to his chest as her arms wrapped around him. He could feel the dampness from her tears against his skin.

He half expected her to begin crying in earnest, but instead she blew out a deep sigh.

“I know it shouldn’t be at the forefront of my mind right now, but this is nice.” Her hold on him tightened. “It’s been a long time since I’ve stood like this with someone when I wasn’t on set.”

Mac rubbed his hand up and down her back. “I hope you believe me when I say it’s probably been almost as long for me, except I don’t have a set to be on.” His cheek rested against her hair. “I’ve seen everything you’ve done, though.”

“You have?” Shock filled her voice.

“Of course.”

Fiona didn’t let go of him but did lean back so she could look up at him. “That might be one of the sweetest things I’ve ever heard.”

Of all the difficult things Mac had done in his life, not kissing her in that moment had to be right up there in the top two.

He took a deep breath and then stepped back. “Why don’t you lay back down and get some rest? We can leave the door open between the rooms if you’d rather stay in here. I’ll take the couch.”

Once she’d settled onto the bed, Mac took a seat on the couch a few feet away. “Good night, Fiona. Get some rest.”

He could hear her yawn. “Same to you, Prince.”

There wasn’t the note of derision there had been when he’d walked away years earlier.

Instead it almost sounded like affection.

Interesting.

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