‘Memories can do that,’ she admitted.
‘Live in the moment and be happy.’ Cesar spread his arms wide as if to welcome her into his world. ‘Don’t look so worried. What you see is what you get.’
Which was not just a prince, she thought as he stared down. Cesar was a deeply principled man who wielded great power and wealth. His destiny was preordained. She’d been lucky enough to cross his path briefly, but that was all. There could never be anything more between them. She had to help Cesar to see that he must forget the idea of marrying her, and if that meant leaving him so that in time he forgot her, then that was what she would do.
Love involved sacrifice sometimes, and this was one of those times. The threat of scandal was already fading, its roots stamped out. The press had new headlines. The people of Ardente Sestieri were confident in their prince. It was just Sofia who was out of step. But the one thing she owed him above everything else was honesty. ‘Is there somewhere we can talk?’
‘No,’ he grated out, surprising her with the harshness in his tone. ‘There is not. And you’re not leaving me,’ he stated firmly. ‘I won’t let those demons from the past destroy you. You have to be brave to love completely, and I know you can.’
‘Cesar—please... You don’t understand. I can’t do this to you. I have to leave. It’s for the best.’
‘Whose best? Yours?’
She lifted the bag. He took it from her. She wrestled it back. ‘I’m going home. You can’t stop me. I should have told you before, but—’
‘There wasn’t time?’ he suggested. ‘Forgive me, Sofia, but where is your loyalty now?’
‘I won’t let the team down. I’ll be back for the match. We both need time to cool down and think, and then you’ll see that I’m right.’
‘Oh, will I?’ Cesar challenged fiercely. ‘When are you going to stop running, Sofia? You can’t escape your parents’ death, no matter how far or how fast you run.’
‘What?’ The bag dropped from her hands. ‘Is that what you think this is about?’
‘I don’t think, I know it is,’ Cesar assured her. ‘How do I know? Because my emotions have been strangled for years. I resented you to begin with for the way I saw myself reflected in the way that you behave—the self-inflicted isolation, the determination to help others at whatever cost to yourself, the overwhelming urge to win, to race, to exhaust yourself—and it still doesn’t blot out the pain.
‘It doesn’t work, Sofia! Because when you’ve finally run yourself into the ground and lie down on your bed at night the pain’s still there. And it will be with you until you deal with it.’
Sofia seemed to visibly shrink in front of him. ‘How do you do that?’ she asked him in a small voice.
‘You learn coping strategies. You remember the good times as well as the bad. I’m still a work in progress,’ he admitted. ‘But we can fix this together. I won’t lose you now.’
‘You can’t stop me leaving.’
‘True.’ Sofia was ready to be hurt some more, he realised as her dark eyes searched his. ‘I would never stop you with force,’ he assured her, his voice full of understanding. ‘You have to decide you want to stay, just as you have to move forward instead of constantly looking back. You can do it,’ he said gently, ‘because now you’re not on your own, you have me.’
She exhaled on a faint smile. ‘How do you know all this?’
‘Because I still have pain here.’ He pressed a hand against his heart. ‘I just hide it better than you.’
Taking hold of Sofia’s shoulders in a loving grip, he brought her to face him. ‘I know how you feel because I’ve spent most of my life hiding my feelings. When my father was killed, when I lost comrades in the forces, and when my mother took up with a man who only ever meant her harm and I felt I’d lost her too, I hurt like hell, but I’ve become an expert over the years when it comes to hiding my true thoughts.’ He frowned. ‘I can’t do that with you, Sofia. Stay with me, and I promise I’ll make you happy, and we’ll work through this together.’
She wanted to stay with Cesar more than anything, but if she agreed to marry him, what would happen when the training camp ended and the matches were over, and she was no longer outstanding in any way? She’d be plain Sofia Acosta again—a great rider, with some small skill in painting pictures and a retreat to run. She wasn’t suited to royal life.
Cesar needed someone with style and panache, who could sit beside him, exuding elegance and grace, and who would behave properly at all times. Not some country bumpkin with grime under her nails and dog hair and slobber on her clothes. ‘I’m just not suitable.’
‘For what?’
Cesar’s eyes had a wicked glint, and his mouth was tugging up at one corner in the way she loved. ‘Don’t do this,’ she warned.
‘Do what?’
‘Seduce me with a look. Make me change my mind—’ She broke off, seeing her brothers with Olivia and Jess crossing the yard. Let off the hook, she yelled, ‘Hello!’
‘Come on, Sofia,’ Cesar insisted, reclaiming her attention. ‘You’re only allowed so much time to bury your head in the sand and pretend this isn’t the best thing that has ever happened to either of us.’
Come on, Sofia, her inner voice echoed. Prince or not, Cesar is the best thing that ever happened to you.
‘Dump that bag in the barn,’ he suggested. ‘Join everyone in the cookhouse. You must be hungry after training.’
