Page 38 of Royal Darling
Gabriel holds Emma by the chin, inspecting the damage. “He hit you.”
“It was only a slap,” Emma says, sounding remarkably calm. “Viktor punched him in the jaw much harder.”
Gabriel drops his hand from her and says in an eerily calm voice, “He will pay.”
“No,” Emma says, “let it end here. He’s shown me his true colors and it’s taken away all of my shame and regret for running. My gut instinct was right. And I’m sure he believes he wasted his time with me and will return home.”
I slowly unclench my fists. She’s all right. In fact, she sounds energized. It must be a big weight off her to be finished with the mess she left behind. Soon she’ll go back to her royal life. Maybe tomorrow morning she’ll pack up and go with her family. I get a hollow feeling in my chest like something was taken from me. I’ve only just found the music again, thanks to her.
“Viktor was a witness,” Anna says. “If there is any kind of retaliation in the press or through the courts, we have Abdul’s assault to counter with.”
“He cannot be allowed to get away with hurting my sister,” Gabriel snaps.
Anna’s lips form a flat line. “Let’s respect Emma’s wishes. It might be like she said that he’s done with her and simply heading home.”
Gabriel stalks off, and Anna follows him, speaking in a low urgent tone.
Lucas steps close to Emma. “Are you really okay?”
I hang back, but I watch her carefully because I want to know too.
She gives him a rueful smile. “Actually, I’m better than okay. Now I can truly relax, nothing hanging over me, no regrets. It’s a new start for me.”
Lucas kisses her forehead and walks away.
I force a casualness I’m far from feeling. I’ve felt protective where she’s concerned the moment she showed her vulnerability back on the boat. “You shoulda punched him back. I know you’ve got it in you. You threw an impressive punch at my arse when I tried to throw you overboard.”
She laughs. “He surprised me. Next time, eh?”
Something compels me to pull her into a hug, and I amnota hugger. I need to know she’s okay. She feels warm and right in my arms. I lean down to her ear. “I’m glad you made it through your ordeal relatively unscathed. Not easy to do.”
She looks up at me, her hazel eyes soft. “Meeting you a second time made it all worth it.”
My chest constricts like she reached right in and squeezed my heart. The pull of attraction is too strong to resist. I lean down slowly, drawn in, the blood rushing through my veins. Her soft lips are only a breath away. Her eyes flutter closed, making her look even younger and sweeter.No.I know better than to start something with her. She’ll probably be gone in the morning, back to her royal palace life, and I’m not going to be anything but a memory. Better that than a regret.
It takes all of my willpower, but I manage to step away. “Goodnight, Emma.”
I turn and stride toward the stairs, needing some space between us. It’s too early for bed. I’m going for my guitar before she takes the music with her. I’m halfway up the stairs when I hear her soft, “Goodnight, Jackson.” It sounds wistful and full of longing.
I don’t want to say goodbye yet. That hollow feeling in my chest is back, my limbs heavy as I force myself to keep walking away.Pour it into the music and let her go.
I’m up at the crack of dawn. The house is quiet. Why am I up? I glance toward the door, but it’s still closed. No Emma. She’s woken me at this time enough for my brain to expect it. Is she packing right now, getting ready to leave with her family?
I roll onto my back, tense over the coming goodbye. I should just be happy we met at all. Otherwise, I’d still be on that damn houseboat trying and failing to pick up my guitar. She gave me far more than I gave her.
She’s such a good person. She forgave that arsehole for slapping her and asked for no retaliation in return. She’s so good her family rushes around to preserve the goodness. She has no idea how lucky she is to have overprotective big brothers who give a shit about her. My own big brother loved nothing more than to beat me at everything. Wasn’t hard to do. He was the scholar, the athlete, the good one. I was the failure. By the time I discovered music, he was already away at university. He doesn’t care that I made it big. We haven’t spoken in years. My mum came around, apologizing for not understanding me for so long, not realizing I had “hidden talent.” We’ve made amends, but it doesn’t change the fact that for most of my life I felt not good enough.
I roll to my other side, restless. I’m too awake now, my thoughts filled with Emma. I miss her warmth pressed up against me, miss hearing her whispering her secrets. I know she has more secrets. Why she can pick locks, for one. Maybe she secretly sneaks out of the palace on the regular and breaks into places. Maybe she’s like the female Robin Hood, stealing from the rich and giving to the poor. I laugh to myself. My imagination is working overtime. She’s just a sheltered princess.
Maybe one more guitar lesson before we all leave. I’ll have to leave when they do, I’m only here because of Lucas’s connections. I get out of bed and head for my guitar. That’s when I remember Emma asked to borrow it last night after I’d finished playing. She must’ve been listening to me play because she appeared shortly after I returned the guitar to its case. She’s probably awake. I’ll just go and get it back.
I pull on an undershirt and jeans, open the door, and step into the hallway. Goose bumps break out along my arms, the hair on the back of my neck rising at the sound of her voice. She’s singing “Ave Maria” in Italian and it’s fucking beautiful. I creep closer, listening. Raw and real. Her emotion pours through the lyrics I don’t understand but can feel. I stop outside her door, barely breathing. She hits a wrong note on the guitar, stops and strums a few times before continuing.
I slowly open the door, needing to hear her voice without the barrier between us. She’s sitting on the cushioned bench seat at the end of her bed, her head tilted toward the guitar, watching her fingers as her voice hits a high note, pure and sweet, the sound reaching into my chest and squeezing the breath from my lungs.
She lifts her head and freezes, her eyes wide, her mouth a perfect O of surprise.
“Don’t stop,” I say. “It’s beautiful.”
