Leopold: Part Five (10 page)

And if there’s still a tiny ball of uncertainty—of fear—deep inside of me, it’s easy enough to ignore for tonight.

I
n Leo’s arms
, I sleep more soundly than I have in months—at least for a few hours. I don’t want to admit it out loud, but I really have missed having him hold me. My life hasn’t been right without him—not that there was much right about it
before
him. And come to think of it, the time we
have
spent together hasn’t been all that great, either—at least not while we’re out of bed.

That doesn’t make for much of a relationship.

Maybe we are confusing lust for love. But there is definitely something about the way Leo seems to need me that has nothing to do with lust. The something I wasn’t able to put my finger on last night. Vulnerability. I suppose I hadn’t thought about it before now—that the way he’s opened himself up to me has left him vulnerable to heartbreak. Even more than before. He tells me he loves me every chance he gets—too often, really. And I’m not sure either of us knows enough about love to believe this is real. I’m not sure
I
do, anyway.

I almost hurt him again tonight, even though I hadn’t thought I had much of a choice in the matter. There’s something about the possibility of me leaving that has him on edge—and I’ve already been thinking about how he only made me promise him to stay here one more day.

I’m not sure I have the courage to go to tea alone with his mother today, and leaving this country is the only thing I can think of to get out of it. I suppose I could fake an illness, but that would only get everyone in the palace riled up. Doctors would be called. And I would be outed as a liar. I think I’d much rather be known as the girl who ran away than a liar.

I slip out of his arms and he only barely shifts. I walk over to the enormous closet and edge myself through the doorway, careful not to let too much of the glaring light from inside illuminate the bedroom.

I pull on the pajamas that Matthias brought to the airplane last night before I look at the dresses again. The gowns Leo had designed for me—ridiculous as they are—are fucking gorgeous. More beautiful than anything I’ve ever allowed myself to own. The silver beaded one in particular—I love it almost as much as I hate the idea of wearing it. There’s just something about knowing he chose it for
me
… I don’t know why. I guess I’m just being stupid.

What I really need—and the only reason I came in here at this hour—is to see if there is something appropriate for me to wear to an afternoon tea today. I honestly have no idea what a woman would wear to tea—I guess I picture some sort of dress, but I’m not sure. And I don’t know what a Montovian tea service is like, anyway.

What the hell am I doing here at all?

I paw through the hanging garments, certain there is nothing appropriate. The pieces here look like things I would wear to work. Not to
tea
. I finally find a plain black skirt, and I suppose I can pair it with one of the white blouses and maybe the black shoes I wore to dinner the other night. The queen seemed like an understanding sort of woman. Maybe she won’t care that I have no fucking clue about what I’m supposed to wear or that I have no table manners to speak of.

But it’s just tea, right
? It isn’t like there are going to be fourteen different types of spoons on the table. Maybe there will only be…tea.

I am so fucking deluded
.

I rub my forehead and look at the new clothes one more time, hoping I missed something or that they’ll be magically labeled for their appropriate use this time.

I don’t get through half of them before I hear Leo’s voice behind me. “What are you doing?”

Startled, I spin to face him. “I…” Oh, hell, I don’t know how to explain to him that I’m up in the middle of the night because I’m worried about what I’m going to wear to tea with his mother in twelve hours.

He frowns and lifts a brow.

“I’m not planning my escape, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
I’m only considering it as one of my limited number of options…

“Yet, you bring up the possibility again.” He sighs. “What must I do to convince you to stay with me, Elle? Name it—whatever it is.”

“You’ve already done too much, Leo. I don’t need anything. I don’t actually
want
anything—”

“We all want
something
.” He tilts his head. “There must be
something
. I truly mean it. Tell me whatever it is you desire that will convince you to stay here. There is nothing in the world—”

“What is it
you
want, Your Highness?” I shake my head. “You spend a lot of time trying to figure out what I want when I’m not really sure myself. Maybe you should let me give
you
something.”

He chuckles. “The mistake in your logic, darling Elle, is that I already
have
what I want.” He waves his hand at me. “You’re here. That is the only thing I require in life.”

“But that makes no sense, Leo, and we both know it.” I sigh and lean against one of the empty shoe shelves. “There’s something else going on here. You haven’t told me the whole story.”

He rubs his jaw. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about. I’ve told you everything concerning the circumstances that brought you here—”

“No, I think you know exactly what I’m talking about. You say you didn’t want to interrupt my job or whatever, but you have no problem with having me bail on an interview. I suspect that you of all people wouldn’t have had a problem with me walking out on a job, either. So, you know, it all
seems
well and good that you wanted to
wait
, but—”

He interrupts with a shake of his head. “You’re overanalyzing the situation, Elle.”

“Maybe. But you left me three months ago, Leo. It’s been a long time. You could have sent a note. You could have figured out a way—”

He crosses the room in a few steps. He places his hands on either side of my face and kisses me—hard—and I have no choice but to stop talking.

But I pull away, twisting out of his arms. “Leo, you can’t just kiss me when the conversation turns uncomfortable—”

“I most certainly can. In fact…” He motions toward the door. “We should return to bed. I believe I know of a few more ways I can convince you without words that we are meant to be together.”

I roll my eyes and cross my arms over my chest. “Leo, I appreciate the effort. I do, but—”

“But nothing. Come to bed.” His tone is quite clearly demanding.

I shake my head. “No.”

He lets out an exasperated breath. “Elle, this is growing tiresome. What more do I need to do to prove—?”

“Nothing. You don’t need to do anything or
prove
anything. You’ve said you love me—”

“I
do
love you.”

I nod. “I know. I’ve heard you say it several times now. But something had to have
happened
. I mean, you don’t just show up on someone’s doorstep after three months and profess your undying love for them. I wouldn’t have done that for you—”

He narrows his gaze and tilts his head. “But I did it for you. Can’t that be enough?”

I shake my head. “It has nothing to do with it being enough or not enough. It has to do with it not making any
sense
.”

He stares at me for a moment, crossing his arms over his bare chest before leaning against the wall opposite me. “Fine. Ask me whatever you wish.”

“You’re only going to tell me what you think I want to hear. That you didn’t want to interrupt my work—”

“I
didn’t
want to interrupt your work.” He lets out a short breath. “Elle, I
watched
you in Rio de Campo. I was mesmerized by the work you did there. Can’t you understand that? That
that
was part of the reason I fell in love with you?”

“No.” I shake my head. “Because I wasn’t
in
Rio de Campo. I was in Arizona. I think you could have sent a letter. An email. Made a call.”

He nods. “I could have done all those things. And if I had?”

I stare at him. “I would have…” My heart sinks into my stomach as I realize he’s right.
Fuck.

He nods again. “You would have told me that I had to wait. That you had to honor your commitment. That you intended to finish what you had begun. You may or may not have agreed to see me—to eat what barely passes for a meal with me at a diner in Arizona. But you wouldn’t have agreed to any more than dinner. And you definitely would not have agreed to come here.” He smiles. “Even if I hadn’t ever so slightly coerced you.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
He’s right. I would have made him wait. Why do I have this blind spot? Why can’t I just believe him?

“You may ask Sophia if you like. We’ve spoken at great length about my feelings for you, such as they are. She was the one who convinced me that this was the proper course of action. That these…” He motions at the gowns hanging near him. “That these were things you might want. That our circumstances would be better if I were to wait until your commitment in Arizona was finished. That if you love me the way I love you, you would agree to come with me.”

I ignore the obvious attempt to get me to tell him that I love him again. “You
tricked
me, though. You kidnapped me. You told me you wanted to give me a royal date experience. That we were
only
going on a date—”

“We
did
go on a date, Elle.”

I raise my index finger, pointing at him. “Taking me on an airplane to New York City is
not
a date. It’s…” I’m sputtering, unsure I really want to say the thing I know comes next. “It’s a fairy tale.”

He nods, a slow smile forming on his lips. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

I drop my arms to my sides, my hands curling into fists before I squeeze my eyes shut. “This isn’t real.” My voice is a barely recognizable croak. “This. Isn’t.
Real
.” I open my eyes, almost certain that my words are going to break the spell—that when I’m able to see again, everything will have disappeared.

But it hasn’t. Leo looks at me for another moment before he walks over to the rack of clothes, pulling down a floral dress—one of the dresses Matthias brought the other day. He hangs it on a hook in front of the other gowns. “This is the most suitable of your dresses for an afternoon tea. Not that you would concern yourself with such trivialities.”

My chest tightens and I feel a flash of tears in my eyes, but I blink them back almost as quickly.
How the hell does he read my mind like that?

He leans against the wall again. “If you’d like, we can have tea in the morning. I’ll have Matthias set up a service in your parlor.”

“I…” I frown, and the damned tears swim in my eyes again, but I blink them back once more. “I would like that.”

He nods. “Elle, I really must ask you something.”

I’m silent for a moment. I search his eyes, trying to decipher whatever it is he’s going to ask me, but I can’t. “Okay.”

He stares at me in silence for another moment. “What will it take for you to trust me?”

I can see the pain in his eyes—the vulnerability again. And I know I’m a complete and total bitch for being the one responsible for it. But I don’t know how to do this—I don’t know how to say the words or make him understand. I’m not even sure
I
understand.

My voice is low, almost a whisper. “I…I don’t know.”

He winces and I feel a stab of pain in my chest.

I shake my head. “I’m only going to hurt you, Leo.”

He frowns. “Elle, the only way you will hurt me is if you leave me again. Can you at least promise to tell me if you decide to go? That you’ll not disappear when I’m not looking?”

I stare at him for a moment before I give him a slow nod. I suppose that after all he’s already done for me, being honest with him—or at least telling him if I’m going to leave—is the least I can do for him now.

His brow furrows. “Say it, Elle. Promise me.”

I wince. It’s one thing to nod—the actual
words
seem a hell of a lot more difficult. “I…I promise. I promise I won’t leave without telling you.”

He strides across the room to me again and slides his arms around my waist. He dips his head to whisper in my ear.

“That’s all I ask.”