He drew in a breath and wrapped his arms tightly around her, allowing her to cry against his chest.
“Tears are the most irrational way to solve a problem,” he whispered after a while, after a long due weep, after she let out a soft hiccup. “But it feels so good, huh?”
“What do we do?” she whispered against his chest, her tears intermingling with the warm spray of water. “I don’t know what to do.”
“We get through it together, that’s what we do.”
“I don’t want to be alone tonight.” She looked up through tear-blurred eyes and a watery smile. “Stay with me. Please?”
“Of course.” Ludwig felt his chest tighten as he gazed into her eyes, broken and glazed over. He pulled back until he could see her beautiful face, smoothing the hair from her eyes. “Let me help you wash and then we’ll relax a bit in the bath.”
As he washed her hair, slowly, massaging her scalp, she let out shuddering breaths and small sighs.
He knew how she felt; he knew the devastation. But he would not let it consume her. She would get through this and he would help her, love her even.
At one point he feared losing her too, which had made him want her more desperately than ever. After they showered, all traces of blood and death removed, he would keep her all night long in his arms, keep her safe, he swore.
When they moved to the heated pool, he sat in a corner and took her in his arms.
“Talk to me. About life, about love. Tell me something about yourself,” she spoke softly—barely above a whisper—as she snuggled into his body, slid her hands up his arms and around his neck, as if she feared letting him go, even for a second. “Something you’ve never told anyone else.”
He told her that he liked classical music rather than the hard rock his friends preferred, but that information lacked the deeply personal touch she obviously craved. And Ludwig found that he wanted her to know him better than anyone else in the world. His sense of peace—true peace—deepened.
All because she was here with him. Because she had cried with him. Because she didn’t push him away and relied on him to help. Because she wanted to learn about him, too. Because he eased her torment. Because, when she looked at him, he suspected she saw man. Her man. Even though she didn’t know that right now.
A heady thought. Drugging. Shocking. Enough to earn his devotion.
“There have been a few times over the years that I wondered if I would ever have a wife and”—he gulped, confessing—“children.” He’d never told his friends, who would have laughed. He should laugh at the ridiculousness of it.
She didn’t laugh. “Why not?” There was a wistfully curious tone in her question.
It made him suspect that she might’ve had the same thought about herself. “I’m not sure. I’ve always felt like maybe I was missing some essential component that drove a person to want such things.”
She didn’t ask if he still felt that way, and he was relieved at not having to answer the question.
Because he didn’t feel that way. Not anymore. But he didn’t know how much he should reveal about his feelings for her.
“Tell me something about you. What was it like growing up in the palace?”
She told him how she’d spent part of her childhood being taught how to be a princess: how to talk, to walk, sit, eat and the endless classes of etiquette and protocol. The language lessons, piano lessons, dance lessons—the ever lonely lessons, which meant he now had a list of tutors to kill—and how she still spent most of her time alone.
Ludwig found it amazingly pleasant to pass the time just talking, just enjoying the smoothness of her skin, the silkiness of her voice.
When they totally relaxed and Angelica was dozing on his shoulder, he took her to bed.
After gently laying her down, he lay beside her and snuggled as close as he could get, wrapping his arms around her, wanting to undo the years of loneliness she’d felt, wanting to infuse her with the feeling that she was not alone anymore.
And if he had his way, she never would be again.
33
“He is ruining everything we have worked so hard to accomplish.” Abelardo ran a hand through his hair roughly, feeling sick to his stomach. Not only was Ludwig butting his nose into where it did not belong, he was throwing his money around as well. “We need—I mean, I need to press Angelica harder.”
Americo waved his hand, his expression full of disgust. “No, that plan is not working. The princess clearly has moved on and no amount of you wooing her is going to work.”
Abelardo frowned. “I’m not giving up on Angelica. She has some affection for me. All I have to do is find her weakness and capitalize on it.”
“You were supposed to be her weakness.”
Abelardo swept the contents on the table to the floor, glass shattering. “I am her weakness!”
Americo arched a brow, looking at the mess that Abelardo had just created. “If you are her weakness, then you must try harder. We are running out of time.”
“I know.” Abelardo nodded tightly, a grim look on his face. “I will ramp up my efforts. She will be eating out of the palm of my hand by the end of the week, I promise you.”
Americo didn’t believe him. He had seen the way the princess and Ludwig had looked at each other, how he had shielded her from the aftermath of the explosion. There was only one man in the princess’s life and it was not the man before him. “See that you do.”
Because if Abelardo failed, Americo suspected it would probably be the last thing he ever failed at.
“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen.” Angelica knocked at the doorframe of the meeting room and waved the ministers and assistants from getting up to greet her. “I’m sorry I’m late.”
“Understandable, Your Royal Highness. You worked late into the night helping our people.” Lord Agustin’s smile waned and his eyes rounded when he saw Ludwig entering the room behind her. “But-but, Ma’am, this is a confidential meet—”
“His Highness, the Grand-Duke Ludwig von Kröenenbberg from Lektenstaten has been helping me since the bombing, milord. He provided invaluable assistance in the immediate aftermath. He’s also an extended member of the royal family as he is King Angus’s cousin, who is married to my sister. He is also an investor in Aragon.” With that, she quelled whatever concern they could have—or whatever gossip was churning in their minds.
She paused beside Valantín, who was sitting on the tall throne-like chair so many previous Aragon kings had sat in at the head of the table, and kissed his cheek. She waited for her brother and Ludwig to shake hands, before she moved to the other end of the long mahogany table and took her seat in a smaller throne-like chair.
As they had previously arranged, Ludwig sat himself in the chair at the end of the table to her right, closer to her than the chair would ordinarily be placed.
Valantín motioned to Guardia Civil Chief Ilda Bandres to continue. Angelica knew her well from the investigations conducted around her father’s death. His killer had yet to be found and prosecuted, but Angelica had grown to respect the chief and completely trusted her.
“As of this morning we had nineteen civilians and six policemen dead.” Chief Bandres’s voice was strong, though her green eyes were pinched. “It could’ve been much worse. Some might even say we were lucky.”
“How so?” asked Valantín.
“That close to the museum, even with the smaller bomb, there should’ve been more people dead.” Chief Bandres consulted her notes. “According to one witness, just before the ambulance entered the avenue in your direction, someone starting shouting ‘bomb’.”
Ludwig pulled his chair closer. “I saw her.”
“That doesn’t even make sense,” Valantín murmured, puzzled. “Why set up a bomb and then warn people to get away from it?”
Chief Bandres turned to him. “Did you see anything that could help? Can you describe her?”
“I was too far away to get a good look at her features, but she
had the typical Spanish appearance. Long brown hair, light tanned skin. Beautiful traces. And…” He frowned for a moment and lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “She was tall, a statuesque young woman, yet she was light on her feet. I clearly remember the way she got past the policemen.”
Chief Bandres jotted down his impressions. “I’ll need you to work with one of our forensic artists.”
Ludwig nodded. “Sure. I’ll be glad to help.”
“Is anyone taking responsibility for it?” Valantín asked.
“Al Qaeda tried to.” Chief Bandres snorted. “We have a few leads, though. I have two teams of detectives running down every lead we can get.”
“Do you believe that it has anything to do with the Democracy for Aragon?”
Chief Bandres shook her head, looking up at Angelica. “I don’t doubt it. This is something they would do. But I doubt we will be able to tie them to it. They’re a slippery bunch.”
As the meeting proceeded with the chief describing what little evidence they’d gathered so far and going into technical detail on the type of explosives used, chemical signatures, and other technicalities, Angelica studied Ludwig surreptitiously. In all her tiredness, she forgot to ask him what he was doing there.
She’d gotten so accustomed to his presence and the natural feel of him by her side, it was only then that she realized how odd it was that he was sitting in this meeting between government officials and law enforcement.
Was her judgment slipping, or had she made some unconscious decision about him that was probably clear as day to everyone else?
“This is Police Inspector Alixandre Balaguer. Inspector, meet Princess Angelica Rafela de Castella y Aragon and…” She trailed off, gesturing to Ludwig.
He rose and held out his hand. “Ludwig von Kröenenberg.”
Chief Bandres frowned. “I thought you had a title of peerage.”
“I do, but I don’t like to use it in situations where it’s not relevant. It would just get in the way now.”
When he said things like that, Angelica found herself melting. The man was quite irritatingly perfect.
Chief Bandres nodded once but she reminded her detective, “Just remember he is of nobility. Treat him with the appropriate respect and get his statement.”
“One more thing.” Ludwig’s eyebrows lowered as if he was making a connection with something else. “When she jumped over the policemen—first jumping onto a mailbox, then leaping over them like she was an Olympic gymnast or…maybe a parcours athlete or something—another guy followed her, also shouting and brandishing a plaque which said Axe the Royals. I thought they were going to attack the royal limousine, but they were trying to disperse the people.”
The chief was very interested in this news and confused as well. “What did he look like?”
“I could maybe describe the man.” Ludwig chewed his bottom lip. “But I can’t say I got a good look at him either.”
“Let’s get you to the artist while your memories are fresh.” Inspector Balaguer smiled politely at Ludwig and gestured for him to follow.
Ludwig glanced at Angelica before turning and following the inspector. He wished he could fast-forward their relationship to a point where he could’ve taken her hand, kissed her on the lips, and let her know that he’d do whatever he could to help come up with a police sketch, then rejoin her, wherever she was.
But all he could do was raise his eyebrows and give her a hopeful smile.
34
Ludwig hadn’t felt that the minor details he was able to provide were very helpful, despite assurances from the artist and the police that they were, very much so.
The rest of that day, and the one after were a blur of activity where he hadn’t spent nearly enough time with Angelica, and thus she dominated his thoughts. As he pored over page after page of convicts mugshots, mentally, it was her face that kept appearing in his mind. But he forced himself to concentrate. He’d told her that he would do whatever he could, and having been a witness to the couple who warned pedestrians of the bomb, helping to identify one or both of them was all he could do to help now.
Last night when he took the now familiar tunnel route to the Harem, he found her in bed, already asleep, exhausted from her own busy day.
Tired as he was, he still longed to caress and kiss every inch of her, but he restrained his impulses, not wanting to wake her, and carefully got in bed, then even more carefully scooted up behind her and fell asleep, breathing in her scent.
Now he could only stare at her, marveling at how he’d gotten so lucky to find the most amazing creature he could’ve ever imagined.
She stirred beside him, waking up.
He ran his fingers along her arm until he got to her fingers. Then, he put her hand on his bare chest, pulling her closer to him, cuddling her, wanting to keep her there for as long as he could.
“What time is it?”
“I could grab my phone, but I really don’t want to move.” The gray light streaming in through a small gap in the curtains told him it was early enough that they could linger in bed. “I’ve been thinking about what you said about the people having no money to repair the buildings that were damaged in the bombing.”
“And what is that?” She really hadn’t spoken about it but she had been worried. The structural reports that were coming in showed a great deal more than they had initially thought. It may be because the buildings were old. Several of the shops and apartments above needed to be updated anyway. She just didn’t know how to do everything that needed to be done, and to help them financially the way they needed.
“As you know, I’m an engineer, plus I have experience in rebuilding.” He pulled her over his body. “I have a whole team that could come in and help. My payment is to be there to assist.”
That was a very peculiar statement. “You won’t be billing for your services?”
“Nein.” His grin widened. “All I want, in exchange for my time and the interest on the money I’ll be advancing—my money, not Siobhan’s or the bank’s—is that from today on, I am a fixture in your life. I know you’re very busy. I just want a commitment from you that when you do get some free time, you’ll share some of it with me.”
She propped her chin on her hand and looked up at him. “Not that I’m complaining but don’t you have a business to run and partners to answer to?”
He looked up at the ceiling, trying to figure out if he should tell her or not. What he really wanted to tell her was how he felt. He wanted to tell her how she made him feel. But he also got the sense that if he did that, she would run away. After having been on the other side of a similar conversation with Diane, he didn’t want to force the issue. Not unless he had to.
She narrowed her eyes up at him. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“I’m working. I’m looking into opening a Lekten Royal Bank branch here.” He sighed. “And I’m going back to Lekten today.”
Angelica didn’t know what to say. Was he really trying to tell her that he wanted to find a way to put down roots here? Was he trying to give her a sense of hope? Aragon was not his home. She knew that. What was he thinking?
It couldn’t be the sex. Yes, even being inexperienced she could tell it was good for both of them. But she refused to believe the sex was enough to sway the heart and mind of a man. Especially someone like Ludwig.
She wanted to ask him what he was thinking, but she stopped herself. What if he tells me and I don’t like his answer? Or what if he scares me with his answer?
Would he stay? If she continued to have days where he was pushed to the side and her country took precedence, would he stay for that? Would his ego allow it?
She kept her gaze away, afraid if she looked at him he’d see her feelings in her eyes. Feelings she didn’t quite understand herself. Or perhaps, simply couldn’t accept.
The truth of the matter was, she had no idea what she wanted apart from the fact that she wanted him.
As she continued to stare at him blankl
y, he began to worry.
Was she about to react the same way he had reacted to Diane? How was it that he found himself in a situation like this? In the bed of the most beautiful woman he could ever imagine…and not being wanted by her. What a strange turn of events.
“Really?” She sat up and got out of bed, gathered her robe and prepared for a shower. “Well, that should be interesting.”
“That should be interesting?”
She didn’t know how to have a conversation like this. The only people she was emotionally attached to were people who couldn’t leave her. She was starting to feel something for him and it terrified her.
The thought of settling down with a man like Ludwig…it was preposterous. She didn’t want to invest anything more in him emotionally only for him to decide that living with her was too hard.
She didn’t know the little things about him. His likes and dislikes or his relationship history, which must be pretty extensive, considering his reputation. She didn’t know if he simply wanted today with her, or something more.
Besides, if she had learned anything from Abelardo, it was that most men could not stand playing second fiddle to a woman. Especially not a strong man like Ludwig.
Eventually, she was going to have to find some man to marry. Her mother would insist on it. They needed heirs, and at some point, she was going to have to produce them. The idea of him wanting to settle down with someone like her was too good to be true.
She walked into the shower, her heart churning, her mind racing. Her mind kept calling up images of what their life could be. Which was moronic.
She blinked and turned the shower knob.
As the water fell over her, Angelica pretended the wetness on her face was only that: shower water.