IT HAD BEEN one of those days.
Right from that first customer who’d put his hand in the air and clicked his fingers loudly enough to make Mika freeze as she hurried back to the pass to collect more plates for the table.
‘I ordered my eggs to be poached, not fried.’ He didn’t look at Mika as he spoke. ‘Take them back.’
‘I’m so sorry, sir.’ Mika picked up the plate. ‘There’s been a mistake. I’ll get you a fresh plate.’
‘Make it snappy. And I’ll have another coffee while I’m waiting. On the house—it’s the least you can do for messing up my order.’
‘Of course.’ Mika looked over her shoulder, thinking that Alain had probably heard the loud voice. His subtle nod told her that he had and his smile offered sympathy at her dealing with a rude customer.
The customer wasn’t the only person Mika had to deal with. She knew she hadn’t written the order down incorrectly but the person who’d made the mistake wasn’t likely to admit it. Not this morning, that was for sure, when they were being run off their feet.
Sure enough, Gianni was furious.
‘How could you get something so basic wrong?’ he shouted. ‘You think I have time to be cooking another full English breakfast when I’ve got orders coming out of my ears?’ His spatula splattered oil on the dockets lining the rail above the grill.
He’d picked the wrong morning to have a go at Mika. It had already started badly when she’d opened her eyes to remember that she was alone in her room. That Rafe had chosen to be a lot further away from her. Had that been her fault? Had she said or done something to put him off her? She hadn’t been able to think of anything. Quite the opposite, really, when she’d gone over and over everything they’d said during yesterday’s outing.
Okay, she’d upset him by being offhand about whether she wanted his company to visit the museum, but they’d got past that, hadn’t they? More than past it. She could swear that he’d almost kissed her when they’d been sitting under that tree by the waterfall. And the way he’d looked at her when he’d told her that he was so sure she would succeed in her dream of becoming a travel writer. As if he believed in her completely.
As if it was important to him that she did achieve her dream.
But having him use that dream as an excuse to find somewhere else to sleep felt like she was being punished for something that she didn’t feel was her fault, and now it was about to happen again so this pushed a button harder than it might have otherwise.
‘Have a look at the docket,’ she told Gianni. ‘I didn’t write the order down wrong. You read it wrong.’
‘Don’t tell me how to do my job!’ Gianni yelled. ‘You want to come in here and start cooking? Do you?’ He’d stepped away from the grill and by the time he fired his last, aggressive question he was right in her face.
Mika stiffened. She knew that Gianni wouldn’t hurt her but there were huge buttons being pushed now and it took everything she had to control her reaction. Behind her, she could sense that Rafe had stopped loading the dishwasher. He was staring, probably horrified, at the altercation. The second chef hadn’t blinked and he was now busy trying to rescue the food that Gianni had left unattended on the grill. Margaret took plates off the pass and vanished swiftly. Gianni’s temper tantrums were nothing new and it was best for everybody not directly involved to carry on with their own jobs. There was no point in escalating things further so Mika tried to push past Gianni’s arm to put the offending plate back on the pass. Hopefully he would calm down and do what had to be done to satisfy the customer.
But standing up to him had been a mistake. Gianni grabbed the plate before it got to the bench. Maybe it slipped out of his hands, or maybe he threw it. It didn’t matter because the effect was the same. The sound of smashing crockery caused a sudden silence in the busy café and, from the corner of her eye, Mika could see Marco glaring from his table on the footpath.
Rafe was right beside her now and she could feel him bristling. Was he ready to defend her? She shot a warning glance in his direction and followed it up with a firm shake of her head. It would only make things a lot worse if Rafe said or did anything. This was between herself and Gianni. The more people that got involved, the worse the whole day would become for everybody.
‘What’s your problem?’ Gianni shouted at Rafe. ‘Can’t find the broom? Can’t do your job, either?’ He threw his hands in the air. ‘Why do I have to work with such stupid people? Nobody can do the jobs they’re being paid for.’ He turned back to the grill in disgust, narrowly missing a collision with his junior chef who was putting new plates on the pass.
‘Service,’ he said. ‘Table four.’
Mika’s table. He’d managed to add a replacement plate with poached eggs to the remaining orders going to table four. Mika let out a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. If Alain had already delivered the free coffee as well, this small crisis might be over.
Even the mess. Rafe might have a face like thunder but he had a broom and pan in his hand and was sweeping up the broken crockery and food as she collected the plates, balancing one on her arm so that her hands were free to hold the other two.
In the end, it was no more than a commonplace disruption to smooth service but it had set the tone for the day. All of Mika’s least favourite tasks had appeared, one after the other. Having to return an incorrect order was the biggest but others were equally irritating. Like the group of middle-aged women who treated her like their personal servant for the duration of their visit, requesting fussy changes to every dish they ordered, more ice for their water and replacement cutlery for all when one of them noticed a smudge on the handle of a knife.
Then there were the unsupervised toddlers who’d been allowed to smear smashed avocado all over the table, laminated menus and the wooden spokes of two chairs and up-end the sugar dispenser so that the crystals crunched underfoot. Mika knew that cleaning this particular table in time for the next group of customers was going to be a mission that would have her running behind for a considerable length of time.
And now, when the end of her shift was finally in sight, she had a table of young men who were getting progressively more obnoxious with every order of drinks she delivered to their table.
Their attempts to grab her legs was something she was adept at avoiding but the verbal innuendoes were harder to shake off.
‘Whatcha doing after work, cutie? We could show you a good time.’
Her smile was tight. ‘Are you ready to order?’
‘I know what I’d like to order...’ One of the men licked his lips suggestively as he leered at Mika, his gaze raking her body from head to toe.
She gritted her teeth, her smile long gone. ‘I can come back in a minute, if you need more time to decide?’
‘Just bring us pizza. And more beer.’
‘Yeah...lotsa beer.’
The sooner this group left, the better. By then it would be time for Mika’s shift to end and she could escape and go for a swim, and maybe she could wash away the unpleasantness of this entire day.
But would she be walking home alone? Back to the silent room she now had all to herself again? Would Rafe decide she might need the space to go swimming by herself, too?
The hollow feeling inside her chest was the worst thing about this bad day.
She was missing him.
If she was honest, she’d started missing him at the bus stop in Amalfi yesterday when he’d dropped that bombshell about finding the concierge and arranging a room for himself. She hadn’t ended up doing any of the writing she’d planned to do. Instead, she’d relived every moment of their day together. Tried to second-guess every glance or remembered tone of voice. Tried—and failed—to understand how she could be so drawn to someone who didn’t feel the same way.
It was Rafe who had needed the space—that much was clear.
She’d hardly seen him at work today, either, except for the incident of Gianni’s outburst, when she’d made it clear she wouldn’t welcome his involvement. Had that been why he’d seemed so preoccupied every time she’d been near the pass? Why he’d kept his back to her, intent on loading or unloading the dishwasher whenever she was depositing a pile of crockery? Why he’d been outside, in the alley for his break at a completely different time from her own? Had she offended him again, the way she had when she’d tried to push him away just a little bit by suggesting he didn’t have to go to the museum with her?
When she thought about that, she realised it had been a forlorn effort to protect herself because she knew how much she was going to miss him when he disappeared from her life as suddenly as he’d entered it.
But all she’d achieved was to find herself missing him already, when he was still here. How stupid was that?
It had confirmed something, though. She needed to protect herself. If it felt this bad with him still here, how much worse was it going to be when he was gone for ever?
At least she hadn’t fallen in love with him because Mika instinctively knew that that would make the missing unbearable. Not that she had any real evidence to base it on because she’d never been in love. Not the kind of love she’d seen other people experience, anyway. Mika was confident that that would never happen to her because life had taught her both to rely only on herself and to avoid anything that made her more vulnerable than she already was.
Falling in love with someone was to make yourself ultimately vulnerable, wasn’t it?
She’d told Rafe that she would never marry and have a family of her own and she believed that. How could she chase a dream of something like that when she had no idea what shape it really was? She wasn’t looking for her person. A home that she could call her own was the closest she was going to get to finding her place in the world.
This was a physical reawakening, that was all. An attraction that might have been enough to break down a very big barrier, if Rafe had been interested.
The messages she’d received on that score were mixed, to say the least, and Mika didn’t like feeling confused.
Feeling rejected was even more of a downer.
She delivered pizzas to the table of young men and followed that up with another order of their drinks, avoiding their wandering hands and letting their crude comments become no more than the background buzz of a busy café. As soon as they’d gone, she could wipe down their table and she’d be finished for the day.
Would Rafe be due to finish then, too?
Maybe she should give him some more of that space and not even check to see if his shift was going to finish close enough to hers for it to be only friendly for one of them to wait so they could walk home together.
He knew she’d be going for the usual swim. If he chose not to join her then at least she’d know for sure that whatever had been gathering between them was not going to go any further. She could start pulling herself together, then. She’d been fine before Rafe had come into her life. It was ridiculous to be afraid of how lonely she might be when he left.
* * *
The anger had been building all day.
How did someone like Gianni think he had the right to put people down like that? Mika wasn’t stupid. Neither was Raoul, but the bad-tempered chef had left them both feeling at fault for a situation and its consequences that Raoul was quite sure had been the result of the chef’s lack of attention to detail. Part of him had wanted to put everybody in their place. To reveal his identity and use the power he could summon with a click of his fingers that could potentially change the lives of these people. To get the chef fired. Provide Mika with enough money to let her achieve her dreams without having to put up with any of this kind of abuse.
And the way she’d put up with Gianni’s tantrum hadn’t been the only thing he’d noticed today.
She’d told him that you got to see the worst of people in a job like this and she hadn’t been wrong. Raoul could see out into the café when he collected pans from the chefs or replaced water carafes and glasses on their shelves. He’d seen people clicking their fingers to get Mika’s attention. A group trying to sit down at a table she was trying to clean had glared at her as if it was her fault there was sugar or salt that had to be swept up before the table could be wiped clean. And he’d seen a low-life make a grab for her legs as she’d leaned over the table to deliver tall glasses of beer.
It wasn’t right that someone like Mika had to put up with being treated like this because she needed a job to live and she just happened to be so far down the pecking order.
Because she was vulnerable.
He hadn’t been allowed to stand up for her this morning as she’d faced Gianni’s wrath and he’d thought he understood why, even if he didn’t agree with it. Hospitality workers were easy to replace and Marco probably wouldn’t have thought twice about firing them both if he’d faced the prospect of losing a good chef who’d be far harder to replace. He couldn’t do anything about the way people treated her in the café, either, but it fed the anger. Maybe he was angry with himself, too, that he’d quashed the notion of revealing who he was because it would mean the end of this time of being so successfully incognito.
He’d seen that look in her eyes yesterday. That smile, when he’d offered her encouragement to believe in herself and her dreams. Had it been so special because it hadn’t happened to her very often in her life? Was she more used to being treated as if she didn’t matter? As if it was obvious she’d had to put up with whatever people felt like dishing out so many times in her life it didn’t matter if they couldn’t be bothered considering how she might feel?
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...’
Rafe’s arms tightened around her and Mika could feel his cheek pressed to the top of her head. Then she felt his head turn and she could feel his lips on her hair. A slow, tender press that felt like a deliberate kiss of comfort.
For the longest time, they were silent. Mika knew she didn’t have to go into the horrible details. That she didn’t have to uncover those dreadful memories and make them fresh again.
It was Rafe who broke the silence.
‘I think you’re wrong,’ he said softly. ‘I think what happened to you before was worse than what happened today.’
Mika nodded slowly. ‘Because you saved me...’
‘No. Because you were betrayed by someone you thought you could trust. Someone that was supposed to care about you and keep you safe.’ His breath came out in a sigh. ‘I’m so sorry that happened to you, Mika. I’m not surprised you don’t trust men.’
Her eyes snapped open. It was important that she could see Rafe. That he could see her.
‘I trust you,’ she said quietly.
‘I care about you,’ Rafe said. ‘You’re safe.’
It seemed like the most natural thing in the world that he would kiss her again to seal the truth of those words. It was a gentle kiss but it stirred up everything that had been woken and waiting in Mika’s body.
The fear and bad memories were becoming a distant memory. This was what mattered. This moment.
This man that she could trust.
Her heart was beating wildly as she shifted in his arms. There was one way, she realised, that she could put not only today’s horror but the memories that had kept her trapped for so long behind her for ever.
One thing that could restore her faith that there were good men in the world and, amongst them, one that she could trust with not only her heart but her body. If she was brave enough...
‘Rafe?’
The subtle quirk of those dark eyebrows was enough to tell her he wanted to hear her question.
‘Would you do something for me? Please? Something that will really make me feel safe?’
His eyes darkened. ‘Of course. What is it?’
Mika licked suddenly dry lips. The words were so hard to get out that they emerged in no more than the ghost of a whisper.
‘Make love to me...’