The Forbidden Prince (8 page)

She
did
matter, dammit. Raoul had wanted to help and her gestures had told him she didn't need his help. That she could look after herself, just the way she always had—except for that time when he'd first met her, when she'd been in the grip of something totally beyond her control.

She'd needed him then but he knew how hard it had been for her to accept his help.

To take his hand...

But this was her world and she knew what she was doing. Raoul had never been in a position of having to put up with being treated as being stupid or worthless. He didn't have to be in it now. He could walk out of here whenever he wanted to and step back into a life of privilege. A life where people looked up to him as being important even if he wasn't doing anything to earn that respect. It was the opposite end of the spectrum and it was an eye-opener, for sure.

Maybe he'd learned enough. He'd walked a few miles now, in the shoes of the invisible people, and it would change his perspective on many things. It would make him a better ruler. A better man. It wasn't that he hadn't always had a strong sense of what was right or wrong, but this experience of life as an ordinary person was sharpening his perception of the shades of grey within those boundaries.

It was wrong enough to anger him that Mika had to put up with people treating her so badly, even if she was tough enough to deal with it. When Raoul had caught a glimpse of the table of young idiots who were out to have a good time with whatever feminine company came within reach, it had been the last straw. He hadn't forgotten his impressions of Mika as a wild creature. Or the horrific thought that some man had hurt her in the past. She deserved protection even if she didn't think she needed it. She deserved to know that how she felt mattered.

That
she
mattered.

Raoul had had to fight the urge to march out of the kitchens and warn them to keep their hands and their crass comments to themselves. Or else...

Or else what?

Choosing to reveal his identity and throwing his power around would have been one thing. What if he got into a fight and maybe ended up getting arrested, being forced to admit who he was, and creating a scandal that would embarrass his entire nation? And what about his beloved grandparents? They'd sacrificed retirement to raise him and wait for him to be ready to take up his destiny and maybe doing that had contributed to his grandfather's failing health. How sad would it be to have the final days of their position as ruling monarchs marred by something so unfortunate?

He couldn't do that. Any more than he could act on the attraction towards Mika that was getting steadily more difficult to contain.

It would be easier to leave now.

Safer.

But would it also be cowardly? He'd already been tested in ways he had never imagined he'd be faced with in his quest to uncover his core strengths. If he left now, might he be running away from the opportunity to face an even more intense challenge?

Perhaps it was frustration more than anger that was making his gut churn today.

Frustration that his offer of help had been dismissed.

That he couldn't let Mika know how important she had become to him.

Most of all, that he wasn't being honest with her.

She'd revealed things to him that he knew she'd never told anybody else. Her search for a place where she felt she belonged—the idea that she would know who she was when she found a place to call home. Her dream of using her talents in photography and writing to make a new—better—life for herself.

But she knew nothing of him on such an intimate level.

What she thought she knew was no more than a pretence.

A lie...

He would tell her, Raoul decided as he finally hung up his apron for the day. He would tell her how he felt about her and why they could be no more than friends. He could offer her a new life, perhaps. Surely there would be a way to find her work within the vibrant tourism industry of his own country? Above all, he could thank her for giving him a perspective on life he would never forget, and they could talk about how best he could use his remaining time before he was due to report back and take up the reins of his future.

When was Mika due to finish her shift? The last glimpse into the café had shown her wiping down a very messy table after the rowdy group of young, male tourists had finally moved on.

But now Raoul couldn't see her anywhere. Margaret was looking after that section and Bianca had come in for the late shift.

‘You looking for Mika?' Bianca handed an order form to Gianni. ‘She just left a couple of minutes ago.'

Without him?

Raoul headed for the alley behind the café. The hope of having an honest conversation with Mika was fading rapidly but he'd created this new distance himself, hadn't he? He'd put up new barriers—literal barriers—in the form of the four walls of his new, private room in the boarding house.

Mika had felt rejected and she was running away. He couldn't blame her but, if he left things this way between them, it would haunt him for ever.

He needed to find her.

Had she taken the main street as her route home, detoured past the beach or marina to give herself a longer walk, or had she chosen the narrow back alleys that offered far more solitude?

The alleys, he decided. Because that would be the route he would take if he wanted a space away from other people after a bad day and knew it was the fastest route to get to the best part of the day—that swim...

He turned another corner, skirted a bank of rubbish containers and passed the open back door of a restaurant kitchen where he could hear a chef yelling at his kitchen crew. They were shouting back and the noise level should have been enough to cover up a much fainter cry but the sound caught something in Raoul's chest.

His heart...

He knew that sound even though it was so muffled. He recognised that note of distress and it felt like a knife in his own chest.

The place it was coming from wasn't an alley, it was more like a hole in a wall—a bricked space that was a tiny courtyard with rear entrance doors to shops that were already closed and locked for the day.

And, right in the corner of the shaded space, was Mika.

Surrounded by the young men she'd been serving in the café. One of them was holding her from behind as she struggled, his hand over her mouth. Another was trying to put his hand up her skirt as she kicked out at him.

The impression of Mika's face was only in the periphery of Raoul's line of sight as he launched himself into the space but he didn't need a clear look to be painfully aware of what he would see.

He'd seen it before. The terror of a wild creature who had been trapped—unable to save herself from the dreadful situation she had found herself in through no fault of her own.

And this was worse than the vertigo that had left her stranded on a cliff side. This was unthinkably horrific.

The frustration and anger that had been building all day gave Raoul the strength to tackle four men without giving the odds a moment's thought. He had an advantage because they were so fixed on their evil intent that they hadn't seen him coming.

With a roar of pure rage that he didn't recognise as coming from his throat, Raoul grabbed the one who was lifting Mika's skirt by the scruff of his neck and hefted him into the air, before throwing him to one side. In almost the same motion, he swung his arm and let his fist connect to the jaw of one of the leering bystanders.

A blow to the side of his own head blurred his vision and seemed to intensify the sounds around him. The swearing of the thwarted attackers still on their feet and trying to defend themselves. Groaning from the one still on the ground where Raoul had thrown him. A scream from Mika as the man restraining her shoved her aside viciously. More raised voices as other people came running. From the corner of his eye, Raoul could see white aprons that suggested it was the staff from the nearby restaurant who had been alerted to the trouble and he caught the impression of them being pushed, and falling as the young men decided to make a run for it, but he didn't turn his head as he leapt forward with his arms outstretched to catch Mika before she fell and hit her head on the cobbled ground.

He had only held her hand before this moment and he remembered the trembling within the gentle circle of his fingers.

This time he was holding her entire body as tightly as he'd ever held anybody and he could feel the shuddering of someone who'd been pushed past the brink of fear.

Oh, God...had he been too late?

‘Did they...? Are you...?' He couldn't bring himself to say the words, and Mika clearly couldn't say anything, but she knew what he was asking and she was shaking her head forcefully. Letting him know that he had been in time to stop the attack.

Just...

The restaurant staff were picking themselves up. More people were gathering in the narrow street. The chef was shouting for someone to call the police and a waitress stepped closer.

‘Is she all right? Can I help?'

Mika was shaking her head again, curling closer within the fold of Raoul's arms. He heard her stuttered words and bent his head.

‘Home...' she whispered. ‘Please...take me home...'

She was so small, it took no effort to scoop her off her feet and into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung like a child.

Raoul pushed politely through the worried onlookers.

‘She's okay,' he told them. ‘I'll look after her.'

‘Who is she?' someone asked. ‘The police will want to talk to her.'

‘She's my friend,' Raoul told them. He straightened his back, instinctively calling on the kind of presence that he might have had if he'd been arriving at a royal function. He was in control and he expected it to be respected. ‘She's safe.'

The crowd parted. In silence, they made space for him to carry Mika onto the open street and carry on up the hill.

He could have put her down then but he didn't want to.

This time, he wasn't going to let her go.

Even when he got to the boarding house and into her room he still didn't let her go. He sat down on the couch he'd slept on for those first nights and he cradled her in his arms and let her cry until the shuddering finally ebbed and he could feel her fear receding.

* * *

How ironic was it that Mika could feel so safe with a man's arms around her? When her worst nightmares of men touching her again had come so terrifyingly close actually to happening?

But this was Rafe.

And this felt like the safest place she had ever been in her entire life.

More than that.

Would she ever feel safe again if he wasn't in her life?

Missing him wasn't something that she could protect herself from and it wasn't something that was ever going to get easier. Given her lifestyle, it should be something she had become very used to, but when Rafe left it was going to feel like he was taking a big part of her with him.

Even if she hadn't fallen in love with him.

As calmness won over the shaking and she could breathe without triggering a sob, Mika felt something like a wry smile gathering strength somewhere deep inside.

Who was she kidding?

She might have been in denial about the process of falling but she already loved this man. That physical reawakening had come in the wake of finding someone who had touched her soul.

Someone she could trust.

Her breath came out in a sigh this time instead of a sob. She could find words finally.

‘You did it again.'

His arms tightened around her. ‘I wanted to kill them. Are you sure they didn't hurt you?'

Mika swallowed hard. ‘They would have. If you hadn't found them.' She tilted her head. ‘How did you find them? I knew as they dragged me in there that nobody would be able to see from the street.'

‘I heard you. Just the faintest sound but I knew it was you. I think my heart heard you rather than my ears.'

Mika could feel tears prickle behind her eyes again but these were very different tears from those in the aftermath of fear.

She would remember those words for the rest of her life. They had to be the most romantic words she had ever heard.

Had Rafe just told her that
he
loved
her
?

It felt like he had.

One of those tears escaped and she could feel it rolling slowly down until it caught on the side of her nose. Rafe had seen it, too. He used the pad of his thumb to brush it away.

‘It wasn't the first time something like this has happened to you, was it?'

Mika blinked, shocked. ‘How did you know that?'

Silly question... Somewhere along the line, they'd had one of those lightning-fast, totally private conversations. Like the one where he'd asked if she would be okay sitting beside the view of that drop to the sea and had told her that he would change the arrangements if that would help.

He'd seen her fear even though she thought she'd kept it so well hidden. Had it been that moment she'd pulled away and headed for neutral ground after she'd seen the attraction in his eyes when they'd been sitting on the pontoon?

No. Maybe it had been there right from the start. When he'd touched her and she'd panicked and kicked his backpack over the side of the cliff.

It didn't matter. He knew. And, while it made her heart rate skip and speed up, it didn't make her feel any less safe that he knew.

‘This was worse,' she whispered. ‘There were more of them...and they were strangers.'

She felt the sudden increase in tension in Rafe's body.

‘You
knew
him? Last time?'

Mika swallowed, closing her eyes against the shock she could see in his eyes. ‘He was my boyfriend. But I didn't know how angry he could get. That he would think nothing of hurting me...that he would come after me when I tried to get away and force me to...to...'