Nicholas lifted the coffee cup to his lips seconds before the newspaper landed on his breakfast plate, displacing the food across the linen-covered table and jostling his hold on the cup as the hot liquid splashed onto his lap. He leaped to his feet, blotting at his pants before the coffee had a chance to soak through to his skin and burn him.
“What the hell are you doing?” He directed his confusion toward Aidan, now glaring at him from beside the dining table.
“That’s exactly what I was about to ask you. Explain this to me, would you, big brother. For I find I’d very much like to use your face as a punching bag right now.” Aidan stalked back and forth across the dining room, his steps agitated, hands clenched into fists by his side.
Nicholas looked down at the paper, seeing the decade-old photograph of himself and Isabelle in Maryland, then the more recent photograph of him and Isabelle. He shoved his hand through his hair as a groan escaped his lips. Sinking back down into the chair, he read the article in its entirety before lifting his gaze to Aidan.
“Has Isabelle seen this?”
“What do you think?”
The look on his brother’s face was enough to tell Nicholas everything he needed to know. When he queried the maid as to whether Isabelle would be joining them for breakfast, the response was Doctor Tandori was feeling under the weather. Now Nicholas knew the weather had nothing to do with it. And it explained why his phone calls to her suite had gone unanswered.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t deck you right here and now?” Aidan questioned accusingly, his fists raised.
Nicholas shook his head. “I can’t think of one at the moment. Have at it.” He sat back in the chair and waited for the inevitable right hook to the jaw, but it didn’t come. Back when they were younger, Nicholas had bested his brother at every turn in the practice ring. Now from the look on Aidan’s face, Nicholas didn’t doubt he would come out on the losing end.
Aidan dropped down heavily in the nearest chair. “You should have seen the look on her face when she saw the article yesterday. I thought she knew about Marissa and you. My god man, she was beyond devastated. She doesn’t deserve this and most certainly doesn’t deserve you.”
Nicholas could say nothing to dispute Aidan’s words. A sick feeling settled in the pit of his stomach at the thought of the pain he caused her. How she must hate him at present.
“How do you plan on fixing this?” Aidan demanded.
“I don’t know that I can. The engagement’s been in place since Marissa’s birth. According to royal decree, nothing can nullify the proxy.” Nicholas looked down at the newspaper, and then folded it in half as if doing so would somehow erase everything on the page.
“Well you better figure something out fast or you’re going to lose the best thing that’s ever happened to you.” With that said Aidan turned on his heel and left the room.
Nicholas picked up the newspaper and began to read. Each word burned into his brain like a dagger. What had he done? How many people had been hurt by the piece? Too many, Nicholas knew without hesitation. There was no doubt Isabelle didn’t care if she ever talked to him again. Not that he would have blamed her. He scrubbed his hands over his face. There was no doubt in his mind he’d already lost her.
• • •
Isabelle’s eyes felt gritty from lack of sleep and, worse yet, crying. So far she’d been able to avoid Nicholas quite neatly for the past two days until now, when one of the servants had come to her suite saying Nicholas had asked her to join him in his private office at her earliest convenience. Isabelle knew she couldn’t refuse the invitation without arousing suspicion, so she begrudgingly followed the maid. But as soon as the meeting was over, she was off to the king’s suite for her last visit of the day.
“His highness will be with you as soon as he finishes his telephone call.”
Isabelle smiled at the secretary and took a seat in front of the massive desk, her thoughts jumbled, and her emotions running rampant. Jumping from the chair, she paced back and forth across the large office. The pictures on the wall caught her eye and Isabelle stopped to stare at one in particular, of Nicholas and a very well-known French film actress. She was wearing a barely there dress and was pressed tightly to his side. So tight that Isabelle doubted even a flea could come between them. But it was the predatory look in the woman’s eyes that had Isabelle biting her lip at the feeling of jealousy that surged through her veins. She pushed down the notion, reminding herself in no uncertain terms that there was nothing to be jealous about. Nicholas could see whomever he wanted to as was evidenced by his engagement to Marissa what’s-her-name. Swinging around, she resumed her pacing.
On her third pass, Isabelle chanced a glance over at Nicholas’s desk. Everything was so neat and tidy, the leather blotter free of pens, messages or anything else to clutter it up. The stack of manila file folders piled neatly in the in-box. Isabelle paused, the wording on the edge of one folder drawing her attention.
Doctor Isabelle Tandori.
What exactly was Nicholas doing with a file folder on her? Isabelle reached for the folder and opened it. She scanned the pages, rising anger now replacing her fragile nerves. So intent on reading the words contained within, she failed to hear Nicholas enter the room.
“I apologize for keeping you waiting.” He moved further into the room, settling himself in the chair behind the desk.
“You had me investigated.” The words came out more of a statement than a question as Isabelle tossed the file on the desk in front of Nicholas. “I hope you found what you were looking for.”
Nicholas had the good graces to look almost embarrassed. Almost, Isabelle thought, but seemingly not enough for her satisfaction.
“Not investigated per se, I was . . . ” His words broke off as he replaced the folder on the stack.
“I’m sorry, if not investigated, then what would you call it?” She resumed her agitated pacing across the room.
“I needed to ascertain information on your background in regard to my father’s care. Decisions needed to be made. Plans put into place before we could move forward with approaching you.”
Isabelle wasn’t convinced. “And by my being here these past few months, I can safely assume nothing turned up to be detrimental or a threat to Wellfleet Isle’s national security.” She dropped down heavily into the chair.
“I didn’t ask you here to fight.” Nicholas shoved his hand through his hair.
“Why did you want to see me?” Not that it really mattered to Isabelle either way. The fight left her limbs as fatigue took its place. All she wanted was for the day to be over and to be as far away from Nicholas Corsairs as she could get, being stuck on the same island as the man.
• • •
The sadness on her face tore at Nicholas, knowing he was the reason for her anger and her pain.
“This came for you earlier today.” Nicholas opened the top drawer and extended a cream-colored envelope toward Isabelle.
Opening the envelope, she pulled out the single sheet of paper and read it. The paper clenched tightly in her hand, she lifted her stare to Nicholas. “Surely this isn’t possible. They wouldn’t have replaced me already.”
“That was never my intention,” Nicholas said softly, unable to say anything to help salvage Isabelle’s feelings. From the look she threw him, she wanted nothing of the sort from him.
“Maybe not, but what did you think would happen? Six months is a long time to be without a head cardiothoracic surgeon. I hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but it was inevitable. Garner General is a busy hospital and someone has to fill the void in my absence.”
He heard the frustration in her voice and wished he had something that would disperse her pain. While it was true Nicholas hadn’t considered the hospital would replace Isabelle during her half-year absence, he didn’t think it would become a priority. Apparently he’d thought wrong. By doing so, he jeopardized Isabelle’s future career options. He made a mental note to call the Chief of Staff Kevin Aldridge to discuss the situation. Quite possibly there was something Nicholas could do to remedy the unfortunate situation. Then another idea formed in his mind that would solve the problem quite nicely.
“You could always stay here and work in the Wellfleet Isle Hospital. Our country would welcome you with open arms. The hospital would be overjoyed to have a doctor of your caliber on staff.” The words were out of his mouth before Nicholas could contain himself.
Isabelle looked shocked at the offer he presented, but quickly recovered. “No, I’m afraid that would never work.”
“Of course it would. You could work at the hospital and live here at the palace. It would work out well for all parties concerned.”
“You mean it would work out for you quite nicely.” Isabelle stopped pacing and faced him. “When did you plan on telling me? Or quite possibly you weren’t going to say a word about Marissa. Though I do think she might have something to say about my living here as well.”
Nicholas was confused by her response and her accusation cut him to the bone. He’d just offered her a wonderful opportunity and she seemed annoyed with the prospect.
“I won’t be your mistress, let alone anyone’s second choice. You are seriously delusional if you think we’re going to pick back up and pretend nothing ever happened, especially now.”
The silence stretched between them as realization dawned on Nicholas’s face.
“Is that what you think this offer is about?”
She nodded slowly without speaking.
He rammed his hand through his hair and let out a loud exhale. “I don’t recall asking you to be my mistress.” The words came out sharper than intended and one quick look at her face was all he needed to see the anguish etched in her features.
“But you would have since Marissa is the one chosen to be your wife,” she said softly.
For as much as he wanted to right the wrong and ease her pain, Nicholas couldn’t. Isabelle was correct in assuming he wanted her as his mistress, regardless of whether he had posed the question aloud or not.
“Your highness, pardon the intrusion.” Nicholas’s secretary stood in the doorway. “This just arrived for you. It’s marked urgent.”
Nicholas motioned her into the room and took the message. “Thank you.”
The woman bowed and retreated.
He looked down at the paper, reading the words contained within. “I must go. We’ll finish our talk later.” Nicholas turned on his heel and left the room, leaving Isabelle alone.
• • •
“That’s where you’re wrong, Nicholas. We’re never going to talk about this again.”
In fact, Isabelle couldn’t wait to erase the memory as fast as possible. Though she’d said the words to an empty room, they were how she felt and nothing would change her mind. Nothing Nicholas could say or do would sway her from her decision.
He’d led her to believe . . . No, Isabelle mentally corrected herself. She’d led herself to believe they had a past, present, and future. She couldn’t blame this on Nicholas, when she was the gullible one.
His place was here with the people who needed him, depended on him, and loved him. The same as she did. He needed to be here with his family. A family of which she was not a part. The tears slid down her cheeks as Isabelle buried her face in her hands.
You were my family. You were all I needed. My family needs nothing more from me than whatever boost up the social ladder my name or achievements will give them.
She moved to the window and stared out at the courtyard. As she stood there, Nicholas went out the front door and headed toward a waiting car. Nicholas climbed in, the door shut behind him, and the car went off down the driveway out of sight. A feeling of déjà vu slithered down her spine, as an icy chill settled over her skin.
I need you.
The words were so simple, yet Isabelle knew she wouldn’t do it, she couldn’t do it. All she had to do was pick up the phone or walk across the palace to his suite and say the words.
It would solve nothing, especially now that she knew about his intended bride-to-be and their fall engagement party. It was like a scar that wouldn’t heal, raw and angry, always a painful reminder. Isabelle tried to convince herself it was his arrogance in the matter that set her nerves on edge. But the truth remained: it was his nearness that caused the rush of emotion and Isabelle knew she could never allow herself to remain on the island for any longer than necessary.
There had never been anyone else that could compare to Nicholas in her life. And if Isabelle chose to be honest with herself, there never would be. He was the only man she’d ever loved. Then lost, she reminded herself. The memories of what they shared would have to last her a lifetime. There would be no more kissing or touching or anything. But none of it mattered because no way would she reconsider becoming the mistress to the future king of Wellfleet Isle.
• • •
Nicholas walked out the front doors of the hospital and into the bright sunshine of the day. His head was muddled with facts and figures, none of which held his attention for more than a minute. And if his brother kept up the incessant chattering, Nicholas vowed to have him thrown to the sharks. He could barely focus at meetings, making decisions was difficult, and worse yet, Isabelle had been avoiding him quite nicely for the past week.
As he turned the corner, he came to an abrupt halt. Less than ten yards in front of him was Isabelle, seated on the bench in the courtyard.
“Ah, the fair maiden herself. I swear when the light hits her that way, she looks just like a fairy tale princess. Don’t you agree big brother?” Aidan came up beside him and lightly punched him on the arm to get his attention. Little did he know, Isabelle was all Nicholas thought of lately.
“I don’t believe in fairy tales. They are for children and storybooks. They have no place in the real world.” But she did look wonderful. A sight for sore eyes, he thought ruefully.
“That may be, but just look at her. She looks like a princess from a fairy tale with all the children about her.”
Nicholas stared across the courtyard at Isabelle. She’d volunteered to read to the children, another way of avoiding contact with Nicholas in the afternoons. She did look like a princess. With her upswept hair and brightly colored sundress, she could easily blend into any royal outing with ease. The notion took root in his brain. She was a natural as the young tots clamored for more and she willingly complied. Her laughter, once given to him freely, was now reserved for the children nestled beside her and at her feet.
She could have been someone’s mother, sitting there surrounded by the littlest patients in the hospital. He imagined her holding their child on her lap, reading a story. Would it be a girl or a boy? Tow-headed or brunette?
He jammed his hands into his pockets as Isabelle laughed at something Aidan said, before his brother took her hand and kissed it loudly, causing the children to laugh with glee. Nicholas frowned, the laughter making it hard for him to focus on anything but how big a fool he’d been. The thought of her kissing another man, or sleeping with another man, was a fierce kick to the gut, sucking the air from his lungs. That Nicholas lost Isabelle years ago was his own doing. And now he’d thoroughly and cleanly repeated the process.
If he’d come back after the funeral and told her the truth would it have changed anything? Nicholas closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. In his heart, he knew the answer. In his head, the outcome was something completely different.
With a flick of his hand, the driver brought the limousine around and Nicholas climbed into the back seat, the door closing behind him, effectively eliminating her from view.
• • •
Isabelle turned and caught Nicholas staring at her. She gnawed on her lip, watching the limousine pull away from the curb. Her heart leaped into her throat at the subtle reminder. How the past once more come full circle as he drove off out of view.
It was as though Nicholas couldn’t wait to get away from her. He’d never love her the way she wanted him to, the way she deserved to be loved. And Isabelle wouldn’t accept anything less than the whole package.
Growing up in a family that expended more energy on outward appearances than true family values taught her never to set her own desires aside for someone else. Regardless of how much she loved Nicholas, they could never be together.
It didn’t matter they’d spent all those nights together. It didn’t matter that Nicholas whispered sweet nothings in her ear while they made love. And it didn’t matter how she felt right at this moment. What did matter was she finally realized everything she felt for Nicholas meant nothing. They had no future, despite their obvious attraction. While she couldn’t ignore the fact he would always hold a small place in her heart, another part of her knew it was time to stop pretending. He would marry Marissa and together they would rule Wellfleet Isle exactly as the article stated. Isabelle had learned the hard way you couldn’t miss what you truly never had.
• • •
The next morning Isabelle deliberately stalled as long as possible before going down to breakfast in hopes Nicholas would have eaten and gone. Unfortunately, he was still in the dining room. For the past two weeks, she’d been able to avoid sharing meals with him by dining in her suite or with Aidan, but not this morning.
“If I didn’t know better, I would think you were avoiding me?” He lifted his coffee cup to his lips and took a sip, his blue eyes aimed directly at her.
“Now why would I do something like that?” She hurriedly shifted her gaze, lest he figure out how accurate his statement really was.
Isabelle never backed down from an obligation and she wasn’t about to start now. When she gave her word, it meant something. She would stay and finish the job, and then be on the first plane out of Wellfleet Isle and back to Chicago.
What she didn’t anticipate was feeling so comfortable in such a short time. Instead ,she’d pictured it as just another job, with a patient whose celebrity status dictated at-home private medical care. Isabelle found herself pleased to admit her reservations about taking the job in the first place were misguided. But that was where it all ended thanks to the newspaper article.
“We’re two grown adults. Certainly despite our differences, we can be civil to one another at least for the remaining time I’m here.” She picked up a slice of melon and put it on her plate before turning toward the array of hot foods.
“I know how upset you must be.”
The ladle hit the side of the chafing dish with a loud clang as Isabelle snapped her face to his. “You know nothing about me. I’m not the same person you left behind ten years ago. A lot has changed. I’ve changed. So please don’t insult me by pretending to think you know anything about me. Not anymore.”
Isabelle tried to tamp down her anger as she finished filling her plate, and then poured a glass of juice from the sidebar. She carried the items to the door before turning back to face him.
“I think it’s time you talked to your father about the surgery. He needs that surgery and the time’s grown short.”
“I’ll have a word with him this afternoon when I return from my meeting.”
“Thank you.” Isabelle walked out the dining room doors and headed for the terrace. She couldn’t bear the thought of being cooped up in the house, especially not with Nicholas seated across from her. But more importantly, she refused to let him see the tears that threatened. She wouldn’t allow herself to shed another tear for a man who obviously wasn’t worth her time or effort.
• • •
“I suppose Isabelle sent you in here to coerce me to have the surgery.” His father folded his hands in his lap, lips pursed, ready to take on the world from the looks of things.
Nicholas sat down in the chair beside his father’s bedside. “I told her I would speak with you. But it’s not my decision to make. If you choose not to have the surgery, who am I to take you to task for your refusal? It was the same with mother when she didn’t tell us about being ill. It was her decision in the end.”
He’d never spoken with his father of his mother’s passing since the day of her death.
“This is nothing like your mother’s situation.”
“Actually it is. Is it your intent to let this disease kill you outright when you could have the surgery and live years longer? Possibly long enough to see both your sons get married.” Nicholas lifted his hand to stop his father’s next question before it was asked. “That’s a hypothetical question, father.”
Philippe narrowed his gaze on Nicholas. “Hypothetical or not, point taken. I’ll consider the surgery as I would never deign to cause you or your brother undue stress at my expense.”
This was the closest thing to an apology Nicholas had ever heard from his father.
“Doctor Tandori, she’s a good doctor, very caring. Pity to know she’ll be leaving soon enough to go back to the States, though my having surgery would delay her departure, I would assume.”
Nicholas didn’t say a word. There was nothing he could say without revealing how he felt about Isabelle. And right now his father was the last person he wanted to know. He couldn’t have her no matter how much he preferred otherwise. The people must come first as they had for hundreds of years. It was his duty, his responsibility, his life, even if it meant the expense of his own happiness.
His life.
The words echoed through his skull like a gunshot, reverberating off his brain. Nicholas was sick and tired of always being diplomatic, charming, never showing how bored he was, nor allowing his true feelings to rise to the surface.