Page 51 of Crowned For The King's Secret

‘It’s more grey than black and white.’

His words came back to haunt him. He’d been trying to do the right thing, and she had no idea what would happen if she took this path. Whilst he was impressed by her bravado, the heat of his anger spiked.

She’d never be free if she carried on with this course, and neither would Nic. So far, he’d kept Victoria and Nic’s existence out of the press. Publicity meant Sandro’s hand being forced. His choices would cease to exist. He’dhaveto marry Victoria. Nic would be his formal heir. He wanted to grab her, to shout. She had to know if she followed this course there would be no escape for any of them.

A little like a sunny day on the hot tarmac of a private airport...

A day when he’d given her no choices either. He stared at her, the softest of smiles teasing her perfect lips. Did she see the realisation flooding over him, cold, then hot? His heart thumped, beating against his chest as if trying to escape.

‘This is...blackmail.’

‘Funny, that. It seems to be how our relationship tracks. So, how does it feel, this position I’m putting you in?’

‘You’ll leave me with no choice.’

‘We always have choices, some more difficult than others. I thought long and hard about the consequences of backing you into a corner. Although as an adult I’ve always believed you should talk out your issues, rather than just...dictating what’s going to happen. Though I suppose you are a king, so being dictatorial is probably in the job description, which I suggest we change. So how about we talk? Tell me what you really want.’

Did she believe he didn’t want her? If he could have his own way, he’d keep her for ever. He’d never let her go. ‘You wanted your freedom. I couldn’t protect you.’

‘Oh, Sandro. Don’t you realise, you saved me? I’m not interested in what you think I should hear. All I wanted was someone to consider my feelings. To talk through decisions like an equal. I don’t need a martyr. What I need is a partner. And the thing is, the partner I want is you.’

Everything in him stilled. It was as if the breeze dropped, the birds were silent. After all that had happened, after all his failings, she wanted him?

‘You...can’t.’ He was unworthy of her in every way.

She cocked her head. ‘I can and I do. I love you, Sandro. And I’m hoping...you might love me a little bit too. Because if you didn’t, why did you keep this?’

She reached into the pocket of her jeans and drew out a slip of paper, held it between two fingers. A kiss, in pink. Her beautifully lettered words. The truth stared him in the face, startling as a slap. He’d never been able to forget her. The disappointment when he’d found her gone after the night they’d shared hadn’t left him in the months after he’d last seen her. He’d thought about her constantly.

‘I’m not sure I know what love is.’

‘You love Nic. Remember how you are with him. It’s simple.’

Occam’s razor.

Could it be as easy as that? Was this what caused so much pain at the thought of losing her? Did he love Victoria?

The simplest answer to a question is often the correct answer.

He loved her.

It sizzled over him like a lightning bolt and he was totally unprepared for it, the shock. His sense of love had been so tangled up with pain and loss he hadn’t recognised the truth. This sensation cut through him, brutal in a way he didn’t think he’d survive. He wanted to crush her to him and never let her go.

‘You wanted to know how I knew about Nic. I told you we were keeping tabs on my cousin. That was a lie.’

Victoria frowned, tucking the precious slip of paper he’d held on to from their first meeting back into her pocket. ‘What’s the truth?’

She deserved to know how long he’d wanted her, even if it left him exposed.

‘I wanted to see you again. When my trip to the UK was arranged, I asked my security team to find you. To what ultimate end I’m still not sure. But what you can be sure of, is that you wereneverincidental. My cousin was. We found out about him, about Nic, because I was searching foryou.’

‘You still thought of me?’ Victoria placed her hand to her heart.

He saw it then, her engagement ring still blazing bright on her finger. His own heart pumped hard.Toi et moi. You and me. That one piece of jewellery containing all his hope for the future. A future built on truth and love.

‘That’s why I kept the note. As a reminder of a perfect night when you gifted me a moment of freedom, to be myself. To be Sandro Baldoni the man. Not the King of Santa Fiorina.’

He stepped towards her, wanting to take her into his arms, but there were still things he needed to say.

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