‘IF YOU HADN’T made him feel so worthless growing up, maybe he’d feel worthy of her now.’
‘And if you hadn’t made him feel so soft, maybe he would have been man enough to fight for her.’
Hugo gawped at his parents, who had made themselves right at home on his sofa.
‘Will you two just stop, please. This isn’t helping.’
‘Well, if you’d been honest with me about how you felt, son.’
‘You didn’t give him the chance to be honest, Antoni. You were too busy throwing Sara back at him!’
‘I messed this up, Maman. Me! Nobody else!’
Now his parents gawped at him and he dropped his gaze to the note in his hand, fighting the reflex that would have seen it crumpled and creased. Scarcely able to believe the words on the card that had accompanied the bouquet of classic cream hydrangeas now on his coffee table.
He would think it some twisted joke of the paparazzi if he didn’t know Cassie’s elegant scrawl as well as his own handwriting, having pored over enough of her detailed fashion designs...
My darling Hugo,
I am sorry for what has come to pass.
It was never my intention to hurt you, nor to fall in love with you.
The press are my cross to bear, and what was printed in your name will pain me for ever. Because, as Wellington once said of Napoleon, you are worth forty thousand men—to my mind, you are worth all the men in the world. Because I have never met one such as you.
My heart is yours.
Always and for ever.
Cassie xxx
He strode up to the window, stared out over the streets of Paris, wondering which one was lucky enough to offer up a home to her now. Because to write the note by hand at the local florist he’d used himself all those weeks ago, meant she had to be in the city somewhere...only where?
He wanted to throw open the French windows and call her name from the rooftops, beg her to come home.
‘This was my mistake and now I need to fix it,’ he said, his breath misting up the chilled pane of glass. But how did he fix it when he didn’t know where she was?
Louis was refusing to speak to him, so there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d give away her location.
He pressed his fist against the window, gritted his teeth. How could he have been so stupid as to let her walk away? The one woman he had come to love with his all. The one woman who had chosen to love him with her all, and he had thrown it back in her face. Rejected it. All because he had deemed himself unworthy of it. How stupid could he be?
What he would give to be able to rewind to that night or that morning, he didn’t care which, and make it right. Tell her the truth. Tell her that he loved her. That he’d always love her and only her.
‘You know she has Lyon’s security working for her.’
Hugo’s ears pricked at his father’s less than subtle comment. ‘Lyon?’
‘Tak. She asked me if I could recommend a close protection firm...after giving me what for.’
He turned his head. ‘She gave you what for?’
‘A bit like your mother’s doing now. Some nonsense about not telling you I was proud of you enough. That if I’d loved you a bit more, then maybe you’d have accepted her love rather than thrown it back in her face.’
He huffed and his mother gasped. ‘You didn’t tell me that, Antoni.’
‘Yes, well, it was hardly my finest moment to share.’ His father cleared his throat and squeezed his mother’s hand before getting to his feet and crossing the room. ‘And it wasn’t nonsense at all. She was right. And I’m sorry for that, son. Because I wish it wasn’t the case. You’re not me, and neither should I have tried to make you so. You always used this first.’
He touched his hand to Hugo’s chest. The contact as surprising as the compassion in his father’s brown gaze. So he hadn’t imagined its presence the other day either but...his father, compassionate?
‘Are you—are you crying, Father?’
‘No. Absolutely not.’
‘You could have fooled me.’
‘But I am concerned about Cassie’s well-being.’
‘Why?’ he blurted, all teasing forgotten as worry for her overtook all else. ‘Why would you say that?’
‘Because she’s taken to running along the river at some ungodly hour in the morning like she’s got some kind of death wish.’
Hugo’s mouth quirked.
‘I can’t imagine why anyone in their right mind would do such a thing, but she’s out there with a team every night like clockwork. Lyon is quite amused by it all and I told him in no uncertain terms he should quit laughing and talk some sense into her.’
‘We used to go together.’
‘You are joking.’
‘No!’ He grasped his father by his arms and planted a smacker on his cheek. ‘Thank you, Papa!’
‘What for?’ he chortled.
‘For giving me an idea.’
‘You’re not going to accost her at that time of night on the Seine? Surely?’
‘It’s our thing.’
His father eyed him dubiously. ‘That’s some thing.’
It really was, and it was all he needed...he hoped.
The witching hour wasn’t the same without Hugo. It didn’t stop Cassie trying to find its magic though. The peace, the rush, the joyous feeling between night and day when she could run and let go...or at least try and let go of the stress that plagued her through the day and wouldn’t let her sleep at night.
That is, thoughts of Hugo and her love for him and the conversation that she knew could have gone better if she’d perhaps given him a little more time to adjust to his parents’ homecoming. Hadn’t ambushed him with his mother. Hadn’t dumped the L word on him.
She toyed with going back. Every night she ran a loop that took her past the Avenue des Champs-Élysées and every night she chickened out. Failing to find her peace, the rush, the magic, and her Hugo, all at the same time.
Because of course he didn’t love her. How could he? She’d spent her life trying to earn the love of her parents, then the Prince. Why would Hugo be any different?
Because he is different, came the honest answer.
He was kind. He was good. He was honourable.
And she was glad she had met him, even if she had lost her heart to him and feared she would never feel quite whole again.
And she was glad she had sent him an apology too, because he hadn’t deserved all that bad press over an isolated incident that had happened so long ago. Maybe if she’d read the articles, given them the time of day, she might have understood why they had cut so deep. But she hadn’t wanted to. She hadn’t wanted to justify a single word they had printed by dedicating a single second of screen time to them.
But she’d made herself read them in the aftermath. Having witnessed his torment, his self-loathing, his pain. She’d made herself read every word and had hated the journalist as much as she had hated herself for provoking him enough to go to the lengths it must have taken to uncover such a story. And she had hated the world for making it okay to print such words about the man she loved. Words that had cut open a wound that had barely healed, forcing her to leave him bleeding and in pain.
His reputation torn to shreds. His masculinity. His pride. His father’s disappointment. His love lost. Not to mention the news spreading within his security company. How it must feel to know that he would have rookies reading the article, learning of his mistakes... All thanks to her.
‘Ma’am, you need to slow down. There’s someone up ahead.’
Jody, one of her close protection detail, came up alongside her and nodded to a guy as he rounded the exit of the Pont Neuf bridge. Cassie’s heart fluttered in her chest. Recognising his broad frame before her eyes did.
‘Hugo?’
‘Ma’am?’
‘It’s Hugo!’
And she wasn’t slowing down, she was speeding up. Racing towards him, because she knew, knew with every beat of her pulse that it was Hugo. Her Hugo. And there could be only one reason he would be here at this time of night...
‘Ma’am!’ Jody hurried after her, but Cassie was sprinting and so was Hugo.
‘Cassie!’
‘It’s okay, Jody! It’s Hugo! I know him! I know him!’
They came together in a collision of bodies, the air forced from her lungs as his arms closed around her and he hugged her to his chest. ‘Cassie!’
He breathed her name into her hair, his voice as pained as the grip around her.
‘What are you doing here, Hugo?’
‘I had to see you.’
She prised herself back enough to look up at his face, his eyes glittering in the lamplight. Lines of worry creased up his brow, bracketed his mouth—the man had aged a decade in a week and still looked like the sexiest man to walk the earth.
‘Is everything okay?’
‘No. Nothing is okay.’
‘Let me guess, you’re not sleeping very well again?’
‘Hardly a wink.’
‘So you’ve come to hijack my witching hour?’
‘If you’ll let me.’
‘Is this to escape your parents?’
He choked on a laugh, his big strong hands lifting to cup her face as his eyes searched hers in wonder. ‘No. For once it is not my parents. Though I’m having a tough time getting rid of them.’
‘Then...’
‘It is you, Cassie.’ He took a ragged breath that vibrated through her too as he kept her ever close. ‘It’s this pain I now have inside of me because I was fool enough to let you walk away.’
‘Then why did you? Why hurt us both so much?’
‘Because I refused to accept your love. That for all you said you loved me, I refused to accept I could be worthy of it. But the truth is, I am too selfish to let you go, which probably means I’m even more unworthy of it.’
He gave another choked laugh, his fingers trembling against her face.
‘What are you saying, Hugo?’
He lifted the rim of her cap to ease it off her head and the cool night air teased along her skin.
‘I’m saying many things. I’m saying I let my fear of getting hurt a second time around get in the way of us. I’m saying I refused to accept the truth of what was there all along. I’m saying my mother was right. I’m saying you were right. I’m saying this is real, Cassie. I am saying that I love you. With all my heart, I love you.’
She blinked up at him, her heart racing a million miles a second. ‘You do?’
‘I think I loved you the moment you came to my naked rescue. Loved you all the more when you stuck that ice cream cone on that jerk’s nose. And I will continue loving you all the more if you can forgive me for being too foolish to accept it and hurting you in the process. I can’t bear that I hurt you.’
‘Oh, Hugo!’ Tears filled her eyes, her throat, and she launched herself up, kissed him with all the love she felt inside. ‘I’m sorry too. So very sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant for all that stuff with Sara to get dredged up. I never—’
He kissed her deep, unrelenting, fierce. Lifting her off the ground as he pressed her body to his. ‘You don’t need to apologise,’ he growled against her lips. ‘That wasn’t you. That was them. And I choose to no longer care too. My past is my past. It’s a part of me and I can’t change that.’
‘And I’m not so sure you should... I kind of like the man you are.’
‘You “kind of like” or do you still...?’ He cocked one sexy brow and she chuckled.
‘Oh, Hugo, are you fishing?’
‘It’s three in the morning, Cassie, give a man a break?’
She ducked his arms and backed into the middle of the bridge, her arms and smile wide as she twirled on the spot, glossy ponytail swinging out. ‘Écoute, Paris! J’aime Hugo Chevalier de tout mon cœur!’
He chucked as she steadied herself to say, ‘Was that loud enough for you?’
‘You’re going to get us arrested.’ He chuckled as he walked up to her.
‘Well, I mean it, Hugo. I love you with all of my heart.’
‘And I love you, mon petit chaton.’
And then he tugged her to him and kissed her, and Cassie knew that this was it.
This was her love story. This was her man. It had taken thirty-three years and a wrong turn, but love and all its wondrous feelings was real. And it was worth waiting for.