The Forbidden Prince (11 page)

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Authors: Alison Roberts

BOOK: The Forbidden Prince
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The sense of something so solid between them made those doors far less daunting. So much so that there came a point, when a personal question came out so casually, it felt as natural as taking hold of Rafe's hand whenever they walked somewhere, like to the beach or home from work.

‘What did you do?' she asked. ‘In your last job?'

‘I was a helicopter pilot.'

Mika's jaw dropped. His answer had come so automatically she knew he wasn't kidding but it was the last thing she had expected him to say. As far-fetched as him being an astronaut, perhaps. Or a brain surgeon.

‘A commercial pilot?'

‘No. I was with the military. We ran a rescue service as well.'

‘Did you save people?' Mika smiled as she shook her head. ‘Silly question. Of course you did. You've saved me twice already—it's second nature for you, isn't it?'

‘I wouldn't say that.'

‘Will you go back to a job like that?'

‘No.'

‘Why not?'

‘I have another job waiting for me. That's why I needed a break. I wasn't sure how ready for it I am.' He squeezed Mika's hand. ‘Are we going for a swim today?'

‘Are you trying to change the subject?'

The discomfort in his glance confirmed her suspicion and Mika felt a chill run down her spine. What was he hiding? She hated the sudden tension that seemed to increase the heat of the late-afternoon sun enveloping them.

Her mouth simply ran away with her next question.

‘You're not
married
, are you?'

‘No.' Her hand was jerked as Rafe stopped in his tracks.

‘Have you been in jail recently?'

His breath came out in an incredulous huff. ‘
No
.
'
But he was smiling as he tugged her into his arms and silenced her with a kiss. ‘Enough questions, already...'

Mika could feel both the need to ask anything and that odd chill of premonition evaporating in the wake of his kiss.

‘Okay...but I get to ask another question tomorrow.'

‘Maybe.'

‘You can't say that. You agreed.'

‘Not exactly. And, even if I did, there's a problem with that arrangement.'

‘Which is?'

Rafe's smile widened into a grin. ‘You can't count.'

They started walking again and a welcome puff of a sea breeze lessened the heat around them. Or maybe it was that the tension had been blown away.

Mika's lips quirked. ‘How many times will you make love to me tonight, Rafe?'

‘One.'

She glanced up to catch his gaze and they both laughed.

‘So I'm not the only one who can't count, then...'

CHAPTER EIGHT

I
T
WAS
R
AFE
'
S
idea to do something special on their next day off.

The day was still early and deliciously cool but the clear sky suggested that being close to the sea would be the best way to enjoy the rest of it. Waiting for a beachside café to open for breakfast, they wandered past the main beach in Positano where the deck chairs for hire were already being set up in orderly rows, colour-coded for the businesses that owned them, and they began to explore the marinas where boats of all sizes and shapes bobbed gently on their moorings.

It was Rafe who spotted the sign advertising a day trip out to the island of Capri. The cost was an extravagance in Mika's opinion but Rafe persisted as they retraced their steps to find coffee.

‘You want to see it, don't you? It would make a great subject for one of your articles.'

‘I would love to see it. I've been intrigued ever since I saw the outline of those rocks in the distance.'

‘The
Faraglioni
? The Three Spurs? They're very distinctive. Did you know you can go right though the gap in one of them?'

‘No...really?'

‘If we find the right boat, it'll be part of the trip.'

‘It's too expensive.'

‘It would be my treat. And you need a new subject. You've finished your articles on the Footpath of the Gods and the Valley of the Ancient Mills now, haven't you?'

Mika caught her bottom lip between her teeth. ‘I emailed them last night.' She scrunched her nose. ‘I can't believe I took your advice and sent them to
National Geographic
and
Lonely Planet
. They only take the best.'

‘It's a good thing.' Rafe squeezed her hand to make her pause and then dipped his head to kiss her. ‘Always start at the top. Why settle for less if you don't have to?'

‘Mmm...' The sound was a sigh of happiness in the wake of that kiss. ‘Okay...if you're sure. But you could buy a lot of new clothes with that kind of money. I'll bet you haven't replaced half of what you lost when I kicked your backpack over that cliff.'

‘Ah, but I've learned how little you actually need to survive,' Rafe said quietly. ‘And, more than that, how good life can be when you keep things simple.'

The look in his eyes told Mika that
she
was the reason life was so good for him right now and the bubble of joy that caught in her throat exploded to send ripples of pleasure right through her body.

‘I'll have to go home to get my camera. And my notebook.'

‘We've got an hour or so before the boat leaves. I'll go back and make sure we can get tickets while you fetch your camera. We'll still have time for a quick breakfast. Let's meet at the café beside the bus stop.'

Excitement was chasing joy now. ‘Race you, then.' Mika stood on tiptoes to press another kiss to Rafe's lips. ‘I'll be back here first.'

She wasn't, because she took a little extra time to throw their sunhats and some sunscreen into her small backpack, but it didn't matter, because Rafe had ordered coffee and croissants and had the tickets in his hand that were a passport to a new adventure. Mika couldn't wait. She was first on the boat to ensure the best position to take photographs and already had her camera in her hands as more and more people climbed aboard. The powerful launch took them swiftly up the coast and Mika started taking a series of shots as the massive spurs of rock the island was so famous for came closer and closer.

The side of the boat was not going to be the best place to record the experience of going through the gap of the middle spur, so Mika edged her way through the group to get to the back. A young man, holding a remarkably similar camera to her own, made space for her beside the rail.

‘Nice...' He tilted his head as he looked at her camera. ‘It's a D4, isn't it?'

‘Yes. What's yours?'

‘A D5. It's the latest.' He sounded English. And very confident. ‘The best.'

‘Wow...'

‘I need it for my job. I'm a pro.' He grinned at Mika. ‘I'm James.'

‘Nice to meet you. I'm Mika.'

The boat was slowing, coming closer to the arched hole. Mika readied her camera but took a sideways glance at her new companion. He was going to get very hot today in those tight, black jeans and tee shirt but he certainly looked professional. The huge lens he had on his camera at the moment made her think of paparazzi.

The passage through the gap was exciting, with the roll of the sea and the height of the ceiling of rock overhead making the walls feel closer than they probably were. Mika tilted her camera, trying to capture it all.

‘You need a wide-angle lens.'

‘It's on my list. I'm saving up.'

Mika lowered her camera as the boat picked up speed, turning her head to see where Rafe was in the crowded boat.

‘Hang out with me for the day and you might earn enough for any lens your heart desires.'

‘What?' She turned back swiftly. ‘How?'

‘There's a rumour that there are some big names coming to the island today for a spot of shopping.' He tapped the side of his nose. ‘Can't say who, but they're the hottest ticket there is right now. Get a good shot, and you could sell it for serious cash.'

So he
was
paparazzi. Mika took a step back, shaking her head. ‘Thanks for the offer, but I'm spending the day with my boyfriend.' Another glance showed her that Rafe was still in the spot she'd left to come to the back of the boat. And he was watching her. Or, rather, he was staring at James.

James was staring back. ‘Lucky guy,' he said. ‘My loss.'

‘Who was that?' Rafe asked when Mika got back to his side.

She shrugged. ‘He said his name was James and he's a professional photographer. Apparently there's a movie star or someone going to Capri today and he wants to get a shot he can sell.' She made a face to express her distaste. ‘He said I could make big money if I hung out with him for the day.'

A glance over her shoulder revealed that she was still an object of interest for James. Or was it Rafe he was staring at? Impossible to tell now that he had sunglasses on, and he turned away as soon as Mika spotted him. Or, rather, he waited a heartbeat before he turned away. And he was smiling. Did he want her to know that he was still watching? That he was enjoying whatever game he thought he was playing?

‘We picked the wrong day for this, I think.'

There was a note in Rafe's voice that Mika had never heard before. He sounded angry. Disgusted, even.

‘Why?' Anxiety formed an unpleasant knot in her stomach. She didn't want this to be a ‘wrong' day. She wanted a day like their walk through the valley of the ancient mills when that feeling of being connected to Rafe had become so incredibly strong. He'd fought the attraction, though, hadn't he? He had come so close to kissing her but had pulled away—so much so that he'd moved out of her room.

But now...everything had changed. If they were totally alone in a beautiful place, and returned to that kind of space where there was nothing else but that connection, would it grow even more? And, if it did, where would it take them? Could she ask the questions that would open the scariest doors of all?

Maybe she wouldn't need to ask them. Maybe he would tell her that he didn't want to stop sharing his life with her. Ever...

But, right now, he was scowling.

‘Paparazzi are like wasps. When one gets attracted, you know there'll be dozens more. I hate them.'

Mika blinked. ‘Hate' was such a strong word—as if he had personal experience of something extremely unpleasant. Or did he hate the principle of privacy being violated? That was more likely. Despite how little she still knew about him, Rafe was clearly a very private person.

And that was fine. Privacy was exactly what she was hoping they could find today.

‘We won't hang around the shops,' she said. ‘Look, I've got a brochure. There's a map. We could go walking and see something historic. Like this—the
Villa san Michele
. That looks amazing.'

Their boat wasn't the only one docking at Capri and the streets were already crowded. When they made their way to the funicular train to ride up the side of the cliff to the
piazetta
, they were urged on to squeeze in with dozens of other tourists.

Maybe Rafe was right, Mika thought, as she was jostled hard enough to cause momentary alarm. They
had
picked the wrong day for this. But then his arm went around her shoulders and his was the only body she was pressed against, and she felt safe again. They emerged into the square and the crowd thinned as they dispersed towards the cafés and shops. Mika breathed a sigh of relief and unfolded the brochure she was still holding in her hand.

‘Let's find the road we need. Looks like the
Via Acquaviva
to start with and then the
Via Marina Grande.'

‘How long will it take to get to the villa?'

‘It says about forty-five minutes.'

‘It might be a good idea to buy some water and something to eat.' Rafe still sounded out of sorts, and he wasn't looking at Mika. He seemed to be scanning the crowds around them and wasn't happy with what he could see.

‘Okay. My turn to pay this time.' Mika touched her shoulder to slip off the strap of her camera case and retrieve the euros she had tucked into a side pocket for easy access. ‘Oh, my God...'

‘What is it?' Rafe was looking at her now, his brow furrowed with concern. ‘What's wrong?'

‘My camera... It's
gone
...'

‘You didn't put it in your backpack?'

‘No. It was over my shoulder. I had it when I got on the train.'

When she'd been jostled hard enough almost to fall.

‘You must have dropped it. We'll go back to the station and see if someone's handed it in.'

Mika's sinking heart told her that this was probably too much to hope for. The head shaking of the train officials was bad enough. Being given a lecture about being wary of pickpockets in tourist destinations was worse. She left her details with the officials and a woman assured her that she would pass the information to the police in case the camera turned up elsewhere.

The shine had been taken off the day and it seemed like they were both out of sorts now.

‘I'm sorry,' Rafe said. ‘Your camera can be replaced but you won't get photos today. You've saved your earlier pictures, haven't you?'

Mika nodded. They were all safely on her laptop. The most precious one of all—that she'd printed into a passport size the other day at the pharmacy—was tucked into the wallet she'd left at home for safekeeping.

And, yes, the camera could be replaced but how long would it take her to save up that kind of money again?

It was a setback, one that could very well ruin this day, but Mika couldn't afford to let that happen—not when she didn't know how many more days like this she would have with Rafe. Where they could find the right time and place that would make it natural to talk about what the future might hold...

With a huge effort she pushed the negative effects of her loss to one side.

‘You know what?'

‘What?'

‘I've still got my notebook. I can come back and get photos another time. Maybe one of my articles will sell and that'll be enough to buy a new camera.'

* * *

Raoul could see the effort Mika was making. He knew how hard it was for her and he loved her for that courage and determination in the face of adversity.

That camera was precious. She had worked so hard for it and it represented her dream of a better future.

He would replace it for her. Not only the camera, but he would get every type of lens available as accessories—a tripod too, perhaps, and a beautiful case to carry everything in. He could have it gift-wrapped and delivered as soon as he got home.

When he'd left Mika behind...?

He didn't want to think about that. Not today, when it might be the last day they got to spend together like this. While they were both still invisible as far as his real world was concerned.

In the meantime, he needed to encourage her. To make them both feel better. His own mood still left a lot to be desired. The day had soured for him when he'd seen the way that photographer had tried to hit on Mika. It hadn't been as simple as jealousy, though, had it? His instincts had been validated by knowing that James was a paparazzo. One of the army of watchers that had never been far away for his whole life—a symbol of why he'd never really known what he'd needed to know about himself because he'd always had to be what others expected him to be.

He could be who he really was today, though. Not being able to protect Mika from that theft rankled but he could fix that, in time. For now, perhaps all he could do was offer comfort.

‘Someone might still hand it in. We could check in at the police station on our way back.'

A police station was the last place Raoul wanted to go, though. What if they wanted his ID and awkward questions led to him having to confess the truth?

Mika's gaze was steady. Given the way they could communicate, it was more than likely that she could sense his reluctance. Was that why she was shaking her head?

‘They've got my details. It's pretty obvious the theft was deliberate so I doubt it'll be handed in anywhere.' She shrugged. ‘It's rotten but I don't want it to spoil our day. Let's try and forget about it.'

Her smile was pure Mika, with that edge of feisty cheekiness, but there was a hint of apology in her eyes.

‘Have you got enough money for some water and a sandwich or two? Mine was in the camera case.'

Raoul could only nod because he didn't trust himself to speak for a moment. It summed up so much, didn't it? How much he loved her zest for life and the courage she displayed in living it. How little she knew about him to think that paying for a simple meal might be stretching his resources. How much she loved him, that she didn't want their day to be spoiled.

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