The Forbidden Prince. Alison Roberts
the accomplishment of a not inconsiderable physical challenge.
How often did you find somebody that you could communicate with like that?
He’d seen it—between people like his grandparents, for instance—but they’d been together for decades and adored each other.
He and Mika were complete strangers.
Although, that strangeness was wearing off with every passing minute as he got to know more about her.
He’d glimpsed a dream by the way she handled that camera and a note in her voice when she’d told him that owning it had been a long time coming. Was she planning a new career as a photographer, perhaps? He already knew how determined she was by the way she’d handled her desperation at being in the clutches of vertigo, so he was quite confident that she would find a way to achieve any dreams she had.
Weirdly, it made him feel proud of her...
He’d also seen her pride. He’d deliberately searched for the least expensive item on the menu because it was obvious that Mika didn’t have unlimited funds. He’d picked up on that, when she’d said she had waited a long time to own that precious camera, as easily as he’d been able to absorb communication from a glance. And he’d seen the way she’d reacted. It had reminded him of that curious little creature he’d come across for the first time when he’d been at his English boarding school—a hedgehog that curled itself into a ball to protect itself so that all you could see were prickles.
But Mika had relaxed again now. And she could eat... There was real pleasure to be found in the company of a female who actually tackled food like a boy. There was no picking at a low-calorie salad for Mika. She was attacking her big slices of pizza with so much enthusiasm, she had a big streak of tomato sauce on one cheek.
This was so different from anything he’d ever experienced. The only note of familiarity was the offer of the best table the restaurant had to offer—and another table would have been found, of course, for the discreet security personnel who were never far away. Photographers would have been shut outside for the moment but his female companion would have excused herself possibly more than once, to make sure she was ready for them later, to touch up her make-up and check that there were no stains on the figure-hugging evening gown she was wearing.
Imagining any of those elegant women he’d dined with in the past with food on her face made it virtually impossible to hide a smile. Raoul also had to resist the urge to reach out and wipe it clean with his napkin. Or maybe just his thumb. He could imagine how the prickles would appear again if he did, though. He already knew Mika quite well enough to know that she would not appreciate being treated like a child.
‘It’s good, isn’t it?’
‘So good.’ Mika eyed the remaining slices of the pizza but reached for her beer first. She frowned at Raoul when she put her glass down. ‘What’s funny?’
The smile had escaped. ‘You’ve got a moustache.’
‘Oh...’ With the back of her hand, Mika erased the foam above her lip. The gesture captured the streak of tomato sauce as well. ‘Better?’
‘Mmm.’ But Raoul was still smiling. He’d never sat a table with a woman who would use her hand rather than a napkin and it was quite possible he’d never enjoyed a meal quite this much, either.
‘Tell me more about this OE you’re on... Do you have an itinerary?’
‘Not really. I find a place and a job and work until I’ve saved enough to go somewhere else. I’ll be here for a while longer after investing in that camera, but it’s a good job and I love it here, so that’s okay.’
‘What’s your job?’
‘I’m in hospo.’
Raoul blinked. Maybe his English wasn’t as good as he’d thought. It took only as long as that blink for Mika to realise his lack of comprehension and rescue him.
‘Hospitality. I’m a waitress in a café down in Positano.’
‘And that’s a good job?’
‘It is when you’re travelling. It’s easy to get work and nobody’s too bothered about permits or anything. You can get paid in cash, too. It’s what most people do on their OE. Part of the rite of passage, even. Everybody should work in hospo at least once.’
‘Why?’
‘Because it changes the way you see the world. You get to see the best and worst of people in ways you wouldn’t believe. And it changes how you see people who work in the kind of jobs that usually make them invisible—you know what I mean?’
Raoul nodded slowly but his interest had been piqued. How many people were there in his world that quietly came and went, making life easier for himself and his family? Advisors and bodyguards. Cooks and cleaners. He’d never served anyone so he had no idea what life would look like from that kind of perspective. He was ashamed to realise he hadn’t even given it much thought.
Until now...
So that kind of job could change the way you saw the world... Was that what he needed to do?
There was only one slice of pizza left.
‘You have it,’ Raoul said.
‘No, it’s all yours. You’re a boy. You need to eat more.’
‘How about we go halves?’
Mika’s face lit up. ‘Okay.’ She tore the big triangle into two pieces and then eyed them up.
‘That one is bigger,’ Raoul pointed out. ‘You have it.’
Mika hesitated for a moment then she picked up the larger piece and took a big bite out of it before putting it down again.
Raoul snorted with laughter. ‘Okay, now they’re the same. I choose this one.’ He picked up the piece that now had a semicircle of tooth marks where the point of the triangle had been, his hand grazing hers as it passed. Or maybe it hadn’t actually touched her skin—it just felt like it had—because she didn’t move hers further away. His gaze met Mika’s over the slice as he bit into it...and there it was again...
That feeling of a connection he’d never felt before.
Was this what having a real friend was like?
Oddly, it was as exciting as that first flutter of physical attraction could be.
Mika washed down the last of her pizza with the last swallow of her beer. She sighed with contentment and then leaned back in her chair.
‘Right, mister. What are we going to do with you?’
The expression on her face was a mix of concern and a determination to fix things. She was fiddling with the charm on her necklace in a way that suggested it was an automatic accompaniment to a process of deep thought.
The irony wasn’t lost on Raoul.
‘Why do you wear a dolphin charm?’
Mika’s fingers stilled. She was staring at him with those huge eyes and Raoul felt that he’d stepped over a boundary of some kind. He’d asked a question that had personal significance and, right now, she was weighing up whether or not to trust him with an honest response.
‘It’s a symbol,’ she finally said softly. ‘Of being wild and free. And...and happy.’
The wistful note in her voice went straight to Raoul’s heart and struck a very unexpected chord.
Mika was searching for happiness, as everybody did, but she was already almost as wild and free as one of the beautiful creatures his homeland had been named for. She didn’t have to step into a life that was pretty much set in stone—a life that meant personal happiness was unimportant compared to the greater good. If happiness was there, as it had been for most of his life, it was a bonus.
Raoul envied her. Okay, there was a twinge