Page 36 of Crowned For The King's Secret

‘I’m a man who likes to be in control, and the medication takes that away. I only use it under my doctor’s guidance, and only as a last resort; however, if you want me to stop, I will.’

‘I don’t want you to fall into the trap I did.’

‘Nothing will happen to me because I have people around me to protect me. Who talked to you and told you there were other ways? That the choices being made for you by your doctor were wrong?’

She took her lower lip between her teeth. ‘Let’s just say, I hid it well.’

‘You shouldn’t have had to hide. You should have been protected,cara. Cherished and cared for by those who were supposed to love you, not left to be numbed because there was no one there when you needed them.’

‘We all make our choices, Sandro. You once said to me that everyone has their cross to bear. It’s no use comparing the wood and the nails.’

She remembered. There was so much of that night he could never forget. The freedom of it, the sense of possibility that sustained him over the months since. The hope it gave him. He had that sense of hope again. Fragile, flickering, but it was there none the less. The hope that in a selfish world he could find someone else who could be selfless. Who offered him comfort, her body. Who he wanted to offer the same in return.

‘I should have a shower, then we can talk some more.’

Victoria stood. Sandro almost mourned the loss of her gentle ministrations; however, he needed to feel more like a king than this half-version of himself. He sat up, the world still a bit fuzzy but not as bad as usual. They’d caught the headache early enough this time.

‘You okay?’

He nodded. In the dim light from the en-suite bathroom she looked down at him, her expression unreadable because she was good at hiding, as she’d admitted. He recognised it now because he hid so much himself. Yet he didn’t miss the way her gaze tracked over his naked torso, and lower, to his legs.

He couldn’t miss her appreciation. It almost burned him alive, the power of it, and then she’d see how she affected him. He stood and he thought he heard a sharp inhale. Part of him that had no shame and plenty of ego relished the sound and her admiration of his body. He made his way to the shower, passing the mirror as he did so. He looked like hell. A growing shadow on his jaw. Dark rings under his eyes. Skin pale. The fallen King he’d never wanted anyone to see, especially not Victoria. This was not a man who could rule a country. Who would trust and put faith in him like this?

Yet Victoria deserved to know everything, including brutal truths about the accident that left him still infirm. Especially considering what they now suspected about how much danger she and Nic might truly be in.

CHAPTER EIGHT

SANDROTURNEDONthe shower to hot. Let the water rush over him till he was clean. Once done, he lashed a towel round his waist. Brushed his teeth. Righted himself.

He walked into his bedroom and the curtains had been pulled back, the French doors to the terrace opened, letting the cool evening breeze drift over him. Everything about him was still too on edge and sensitive. He dressed in old clothes, ones he’d kept when he wasn’t a king but simply a man in exile. It was a reminder of how easy it was to fall from his lofty perch.

He opened his door to the lounge area of his suite to the scent of coffee and almost groaned. Victoria handed him a small cup.

‘I asked the kitchens to bring up a light meal.’

He sat on the plush couch. Took a sip from his espresso. The caffeine did its work, his stomach sensing the pang of hunger. He took some of the bread, meats and cheeses the kitchen had delivered. Ate his fill. Finished his drink. Victoria sat next to him, leg tucked under her. He shut his eyes and dropped his head back as he did so because she watched his every move, and, despite both of their admissions and what they’d shared, her unrelenting gaze was like a needle of censure pricking his skin.

Hiding his headaches had a cost. At least he didn’t have to worry any more about Victoria finding out. One less stress to trouble him in a litany that plagued him each day.

‘The doctor said you had an accident,’ she said.

Sandro blew out a long breath. He felt better, improved by the food and coffee, sure. Maybe improved by Victoria’s presence as well. Yet he had more admissions he didn’t want to make. He’d tried not to scare her, but it was imperative she know all the fears that still plagued him. He opened his eyes, leaned forward, his forearms on his knees. Hands clasped.

‘It wasn’t an accident. We believe it was an assassination attempt.’

Vic gasped as the blood drained from her face. ‘What?’

‘A truck hit my vehicle. It happened on a mountain road. The driver said his brakes had failed. Had the car gone off the edge, as we now believe had been planned, and not into the mountainside, I wouldn’t have survived.’

‘How can you be sure it was an attempted assassination?’

‘We weren’t. Then we found out about Nic. The accident happened six months after he was born. The truck was destroyed soon after the accident. Crushed without insurance checking it, so the brakes were never assessed. The man driving the truck disappeared, but we discovered he’d once been employed by Gregorio as a driver.’

‘You really think that’s what’s going on?’

‘You called the palace and were intercepted. My cousin knew about my child before me and intervened. I don’t believe in chance, not where my life is concerned. Neither does my security team, especially since you confirmed Gregorio couldn’t have children. We believe it was planned. With Gregorio in control of my son on the throne, he could have done anything. My people are tired of war—they want peace. What better way to take the throne back than with the real child of the true heir? With me out of the way, Nic would have been the last link to the royal family.’

Victoria’s face paled. She wrapped her arms round her waist.

---