Love Islands…The Collection. Jane Porter
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This was the side of Eduardo she knew least.
‘What do you want me to do?’ she snapped. ‘Fill in an online dating questionnaire or something?’
‘You’ve tried online dating?’ He raised an eyebrow.
‘I was twenty-four and still a virgin. Of course I looked into it.’
‘I thought you were all about the army?’ He cocked his head.
‘It was a weak moment.’
‘You were lonely?’ He sent her an unreadable look. ‘Did you go on any dates? It can be risky, meeting an online acquaintance.’
‘No riskier than having sex on the beach with a stranger,’ she pointed out.
‘You knew who I was.’ He shrugged.
‘But you didn’t know me.’
‘I’m working on it,’ He grinned shamelessly. ‘And now I know you tried online dating.’
‘I didn’t try it.’ She threw up a hand grumpily. ‘I thought about it for two minutes. Dismissed it. Because you can’t get to know someone just by interviewing them. People give you the answers they think you want to hear.’ It was actions that revealed a person. What they did or didn’t do.
‘But this is all we can do in the time we have,’ he argued. ‘They’re going to ask lots of questions.’
‘Fine. Then I’ll ask the questions they’re going to ask and you answer them. I’ll remember the answers and repeat them as necessary,’ she said practically. ‘How would we have met?’
‘On a beach,’ he answered promptly. ‘Always the truth, where possible. But it will have to be more than a few months ago. Then we met in private, at the palace. When you were supposedly meeting your father.’
Well, there was a flaw in that story already. ‘I didn’t come to the palace that often.’ About twice since her return to San Felipe.
‘That’s because Antonio was opposed to us dating. A prince is only supposed to marry a princess, or at least a lady, and you’re a soldier—’
‘Is he really that uptight?’ Stella asked curiously. Or was this as much fiction as the rest of the fairy tale Eduardo was concocting?
He briefly met her eyes, a glint of ironic amusement in his. ‘Yes. And you’re supposed to be learning about me—not my brother.’ His smile tightened and that quirk of softness disappeared into a frown. ‘And your father...how will he take it?’
‘I don’t know,’ Stella muttered.
‘You’re not close?’
‘He’s a good man.’ She avoided answering directly. ‘He wants to do what’s right. And he’s very good at his job.’
Eduardo regarded her for a moment. ‘Would you have had him escort you at our wedding?’ he asked. ‘Will he be hurt by that oversight?’
Oversight? ‘You’re only wondering about that now?’ She fiddled with her drink, running a finger around the rim of the glass.
‘There are many things of concern right now. Your relationship with your father is only one of them. Should we summon him to my apartment at the San Felipe palace? We can meet him there before seeing Antonio.’
‘No.’ She didn’t want to deal with her father yet, and she certainly didn’t want to give orders to him. That was his world and no longer hers. If he wanted to know how she was he’d have to step out of service mode.
Neither of those things he ever did.
The truth was she had no real relationship with her father. She’d always disappointed him and he’d dismissed her—in every way possible. There was nothing more she could do.
‘Will he back up our story?’
Stella looked up at Eduardo’s quiet question, realised he was watching her closely, a frown knitting his eyebrows. She pasted on a cynical smile. ‘He would never comment to the media or anyone. He’s utterly dutiful.’ He’d act the part because he always followed the rules and kept up appearances. ‘My father is the perfect emotionless soldier, doing what’s best for the greater good.’
He sacrificed the personal in order to serve the Crown Prince. Every. Time.
‘Is he why you were so determined to succeed in the army?’ Eduardo stood up from his chair and paced to the wide windows, looking out at the sunset.
‘Of course.’ She shrugged and sent her husband a sharp look. ‘I’ve spent my life trying to please him.’
He turned his back to the window and looked down at her. ‘Sarcasm doesn’t suit you. Anyway, some of what you say is the truth.’
It was. But it wasn’t the only truth. ‘I loved my job. I wouldn’t have stuck at it so long if I hadn’t.’ She’d loved the freedom and the strength she got from it. She missed it. ‘My father was almost fifty when I was born. When my mother died he grieved long and hard, and he was left with a child he had no idea how to raise.’ She sighed, suddenly tired. ‘He did the best he could.’
He was still her father. She would always defend him. Because even though his distance and disappointment hurt her she still loved him.
‘He sent you away?’ Eduardo said softly.
Stella frowned. It wasn’t that simple. ‘He ensured that I had an excellent education and that I came to know my mother’s country. That I was well cared for.’
‘By boarding school matrons?’
‘They understood the needs of a young girl better than he ever could.’ She nodded.
‘But you came back? To prove yourself in his world?’ he persisted.
She paused.
‘Because you wanted his approval.’ Eduardo stepped towards her and lifted her chin, forcing her to look into his beautiful eyes.
‘That’s only part of it,’ she whispered, hating this analysis. Life was so much more complicated than he made it sound. ‘I’m not that pathetic.’
‘It’s not pathetic. It’s normal,’ he countered. ‘All children crave the love and approval of their parents.’
‘Did you?’
‘Of course,’ he said simply. ‘My parents were very proper, and it was all just how it always was...but they were there. They loved us both.’
‘And then they died.’ She looked at him, guessing that was a deep-running wound—as it was for her. It was one she could barely think about.
He nodded.
‘You’re not close to Antonio?’
He paused, and she could almost feel him withdrawing. ‘He is very busy. I’m the lucky one. All the weight rests on his shoulders.’
‘Maybe you’re not as carefree as you make yourself out to be.’ She studied him. ‘You couldn’t continue with law...’
He waved his hand dismissively. ‘There are limitations on everyone—many others have worse. Some face huge struggles just to get the right to go to school.’
Yes, but that didn’t necessarily reduce his personal regret or resentment. ‘What else would you have liked to do that you couldn’t?’ she asked.
There was another hesitation. Then he suddenly straightened, looking her in the eye. ‘Your father wouldn’t let me serve in the army. Not on active duty.’
That surprised her. ‘You wanted to be a soldier?’ She knew just how that was—that blanket refusal.
‘Trained for two years. Then they