Page 76 of Raul
“Of course,Señor.” Mikel and Bruno stood and bowed to the king before exiting.
“Ay,Raul, I wish you would reconsider,” his father said, pushing his chair back and walking around the desk.
“She will be in chains, will she not?” Raul asked. “She cannot hurt me.”
“You have no idea how deadly her words can be,” his father said. “You must refuse to let them take root in your mind and spread their infection.”
“What can she tell me that I do not already know?”
His father shook his head. “She begins with the truth and then twists it until you can’t tell what is real and what is a manipulation designed to damage you.” Luis put his hand on Raul’s shoulder. “I hate to give Odette the opportunity to sink her fangs into you too.”
“I will stay out of striking range.” Raul put his hand on his father’s. “You should not have to bear Odette’s enmity on your own.”
His father went still, his pale blue gaze scanning Raul’s face. “I sometimes forget that you are no longer a child I need to protect. Thank you,hijo mío.”
“No thanks are necessary, Pater.” But Raul basked in the glow of his father’s acknowledgment.
“Shall we eat?” His father waved him toward the table set in the corner of the paneled office.
They both stripped off their jackets and hung them on the wooden valet beside the table. Seating themselves in high-backed oak chairs, they lifted the silver domes off their plates. A selection of Raul’s favorite tapas was arranged on his—stuffed mushroom caps, pickled shrimp, Serrano ham, various cheeses, and fresh fruit. A basket of fragrant, warm bread sat in the middle of the table.
His father spread fig preserves on his bread, laid a slice of ham on top, and took a bite before he said, “TheDuquesa deRiquet mentioned that Francine has returned from Boston now that she has completed her master’s degree. Didn’t you go out with her a few times before she left for the U.S.?”
Ah, the not-so-subtle pressure for the crown prince to find a noble wife. Usually, Raul could let it roll off his back. But now Erica’s vivid face overlay Francine’s, and he could not even recall what thecomtesselooked like.
“I barely remember her. She’s been gone for two years, after all.” Raul jabbed his fork into a shrimp.
“She’ll be at the wedding reception, so perhaps you can get to know her again,” Luis said.
Raul had to quell a grimace. There would be dozens of eligible noblewomen at the wedding reception, and he would be expected to dance with many of them. That included those from other countries as well.
Alliances by marriage were welcome in the Calevan royal family. His aunt Hélène was from French aristocracy and hadsome influence in her home country. Of course, that had been a love match when it began. Sadly, it had deteriorated over the years.
Usually, he didn’t mind doing his duty by whirling young ladies around the dance floor. He had developed the skill of flirting enough to make the evening pleasurable for himself and his companions without creating any expectations. However, light flirtation had lost its appeal. The only person he wanted to talk to was Erica.
And she was off-limits.
“The wedding reception is not the best place to have an in-depth conversation,” Raul pointed out. “I have to circulate.”
“Eso es cierto, but it is a place to start.” His father slathered spread on another piece of bread. “How did your meeting with the lily grubbers go?”
Raul sighed inwardly with relief. They were back to the business of governing the country.
Erica shifted in her seat as the jet hummed along over the Atlantic Ocean, the setting sun slanting low to her right and painting the clouds beneath her pink and gold.
“Want to take a break before we start our descent?” Bertrand asked.
They were flying on autopilot from New York back to Caleva, and the weather was stable with no turbulence predicted. She had nothing to occupy her mind other than thinking about how stupid she had been to let Raul break her heart.
“Yeah, I’ll go check on the passengers,” she said, unbuckling her seat belt with a sense of relief.
Not that it was necessary. There were three stewards dedicated to the comfort of their guests. However, it was never a bad idea for the pilot to show her face and let the passengers ask questions.
As she opened the cockpit door, her phone vibrated in her pocket with a text notification. She stepped into the galley area and closed the door behind her.
“May I help you with something, Captain?” Lizanne, one of the cabin crew, asked from her seat.
“Just stretching my legs, but thanks,” she said. “I’ll let the passengers know that we’ll be starting our descent in half an hour or so.”
