He’d seen it in her eyes. He’d watched her almost reach for him, then retreat. Like wanting him was something she had to overcome.
That was the thing about fire. It made you flinch. You feared it immediately.
But ice—ice you held onto until you stopped feeling anything at all.
Telling her he wanted her wouldn’t loosen the grip of everything else. She felt it already, whether she admitted as much or not.
Laurent leaned forward slightly. No drawl now. No detachment. “Then don’t ask. Show her there’s another way.”
Rafael exhaled through his nose, slow and sharp. The instinct to act found a new shape.
He couldn’t drag her out, not yet, but he could make sure she saw there was more than one exit. Sometimes, fire didn’t chase. It waited.
And lit the way back.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
RAFAEL
Wednesday 7:38 a.m.
He’d been waiting. She turned the corner. He saw her first. Same coffee cart, same time. Rafael didn’t need her schedule to know it.
Bea’s eyes found him. She looked for a second like she might pretend she hadn’t.
Ten feet out, he held out the cup. No greeting. No explanation. Just what she liked—oat milk, sugar, hotter than it should be.
She slowed, then took it. Stopped in front of him.
“I came before the world decides what you want.”
That got her attention. Bea stilled.
“Everyone’s got an opinion,” he said, “on what name you should take. What city you’ll live in. The life you’ll belong to.”
For a long time, she didn’t speak.
And then, more vulnerable than he’d expected: “What’s your opinion, Rafael?”
That you’re the best thing he could take to London. You’d shine. Adapt.
But you’d be the King’s queen. Not the woman still unfolding here.
“The only opinion I have is that you haven’t made up your mind.”
Her gaze dropped for a second. He saw it. And that was the thing. He always did.
“Areyou certain, little Bea?”
Her throat moved. A swallow. She didn’t answer.
He didn’t step closer, but it cost him. “If it’s him, then choose it. Don’t drift into it.”
Her eyes stayed on his.
“But if you’re about to give your life away because you love him enough to make yourself smaller, then look at me. Because I don’t believe that’s what you were made for.”
She flinched, small and sharp. “That’s not what I’m doing,” she said too softly. They both heard it.
