He couldn’t even begin to understand why it annoyed him all the more that it was Ruby who’d found the problem. She was under his skin in more ways than was imaginable.
Guilt was chipping away at him. Guilt for how he was feeling about Ruby. And guilt because he continually felt as if he were failing his daughter.
What would Sophia have thought? His friend would have dealt with things so much better than he could.
But if Sophia were here now he would never have seen Ruby again. And that was what burned away at his insides. That was what filled him with even more hideous guilt.
The last few days of being around Ruby had lit a fire inside him that had long since died. He could feel her presence everywhere. The staff in the palace seemed happier—less formal. It was almost as if her scent drifted in the air into every room. Light, flowery, lifting the mood.
She’d connected with most members of staff in her polite but informal manner. She wasn’t afraid to ask questions, and more importantly she wasn’t afraid to laugh. In the space of a few days the atmosphere around him seemed to have lightened. The palace had started to feel happy again.
Years of worry about his father’s health, the economy of Euronia, and then the terminal diagnosis of Sophia, followed by the concerns about Annabelle, had made being here oppressive. Every tiny part of this place seemed to weigh on his shoulders relentlessly.
Seeing Ruby’s connection today with Annabelle had been unexpected. He’d never realistically thought about someone else stepping into Sophia’s shoes.
But he should have. It was inevitable.
At some point he would marry again—this time for love—and that woman would become a mother to Annabelle. He’d been so busy these last few years, and so stressed, he hadn’t taken time to think of the impact of that.
The impact on the country. The impact on Annabelle. The impact on him.
And then, there she was, with her mussed-up curls parallel with his child’s. Making him see something that everyone had probably already surmised.
It was time to move on.
But was he ready?
THE CLOTHES WERE lying across her bed. Seventeen dresses of varying styles and colours—all with matching shoes.
‘I don’t understand. Did something happen to my clothes?’
Rufus shook his head. ‘I told you I would arrange for some other clothing to be sent to the palace for you.’
She reached down and touched the nearest designer dress. It was red...beautiful. Like something you would wear to the Queen’s garden party back in London. It certainly wasn’t like anything she owned.
‘But I’m not sure I really need these. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be here. And I’ve got clothes of my own.’ She opened the wardrobe, revealing her few dresses, jeans, T-shirts and a couple of pairs of sandals and heels.
Rufus gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. He turned to leave. ‘They’re here now—enjoy!’ he said, and with a wave of his hand he disappeared, leaving her to perch on the edge of the bed, too nervous to touch some of the dresses.
‘How very Pretty Woman.’ She sighed. Her head was swimming. Was this another way for Alex to buy her? Did he want to dress her up like some doll?
Every dress was beautifully styled and there was a rainbow of colour. It was strange, but whilst they were all different none was in a style that she wouldn’t wear. It was almost as if they’d given her friend Polly a free budget and the run of all the designer houses.
A silk one slid through her fingers. It was almost the same blue as Alex’s eyes. She gave a little shudder.
Alex. He hadn’t spoken to her for four days. Falling asleep with his daughter was obviously a no-no. But while it might have been a little unconventional she really thought everyone had overreacted.
The imaginary walls between herself and Annabelle had definitely started to crumble. The little girl wasn’t completely ignoring her any more. Yesterday she’d sat next to Ruby as she’d thumbed through a book. After a while Ruby had asked her if she wanted her to read the story and Annabelle had given a little nod and slid closer.
It was a small step, but gaining Annabelle’s trust was the most important thing of all.
She picked up another of the dresses. It was yellow—a colour she never usually wore—and it matched the sun outside and the flowers in the garden directly beneath her window.
She slipped off her T-shirt and Capri pants. The dress dropped over her head and fitted her curves as if it had been specially made for her. Everything was covered, from the round neckline to the flouncy skirt that fell to her knees. She reached behind to fasten the zip. It was a little tricky. She managed to pull it up to her bra strap. Then she reached her hands above her shoulders and over her back, trying to pull the material of the dress a little higher and grasp the zipper.
Someone cleared his throat loudly. She spun around.
She hadn’t thought to close the door after Rufus had left. No one ever seemed to come down this corridor.
‘Alex!’ Colour flooded into her cheeks.
He was leaning in the doorway, his hands folded across his chest, with a cheeky smile on his face. She hadn’t even heard his footsteps.
‘What are you doing here?’
His smile just seemed to get broader. ‘Looks like I’m helping a damsel in distress.’ He stepped into the room and twirled his finger. ‘Go on—spin around and I’ll fasten it for you.’
It was amazing how quickly his presence could cause a buzz in the air around her. She sucked in a breath as she turned around.
Fastening a zip should take the briefest of seconds. But Alex waited. She could feel the material of her dress shifting slightly. The zipper must be in his hand. Then he stepped forward, closing the gap between them.
His head was at her shoulder. She could smell his aftershave—it was coiling its way around her. Who was the snake in that childhood film? Kaa, in The Jungle Book—with the hypnotic eyes that could make you do anything that he wanted. She was pretty sure Alex’s eyes would have the same effect on her.
‘I’m sorry I snapped at you,’ he said quietly. ‘I thought something was wrong with Annabelle.’
‘Okay...’ That was all she replied. Her breath was still caught somewhere between her chest and her throat. It was all she was capable of saying right now.
There was a drumming noise in her ears. Her heart was thudding against her chest as she waited to see what would happen next.
‘I thought today we could go back to the café with Annabelle—like you asked me to.’
She smiled. Did that mean her mistake was being forgotten, or was this part of his apology? He still hadn’t moved. He still hadn’t fastened her zipper.
She nodded. Not breathing was getting difficult. ‘Okay.’
‘Do you like the dresses?’
She could feel his breath warm the skin on her shoulder.
‘I love them—but I don’t need them. Rufus didn’t need to do that.’
‘He didn’t do it.’
She froze. One of his hands moved and rested on her hip.
This was all becoming remarkably familiar. Richard Gere was going to appear any second now. Didn’t he buy Vivian a new wardrobe in Pretty Woman?
Her profession might not compare with Vivian’s,