The Prince's Devious Proposal - Holly Rayner Page 0,35

we ought to have some kind of plan in place.”

“Well…” He hesitated. “We might have a little longer than that before the decision needs to be finalized.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“I wasn’t going to bring this up for a few more days,” he said. “I don’t want it to hang over the rest of our time together.”

“You’re scaring me, Petr.”

“It’s nothing to be scared of,” he assured her. “It’s just that I have some business to take care of here in Rome. It’s been on my calendar for months—since well before I met you. I had no idea everything that you and I have been through would happen in the meantime.”

“I see,” she said. “What does that mean? I don’t have any more time away from work that I can use. I really do have to go back now.”

“I understand that,” Petr said gently. “I expected it. You’ll fly back at the end of the week, as planned. I’ll wrap up my business here and follow you home a few days later. It won’t be a problem.”

Naomi frowned. “Our marriage is so new, and already we have to be apart from one another?”

“I know,” Petr said. “I don’t like it either. But look on the bright side. It will give you time to focus on packing up your condo. And once I’m home, we’ll be able to get our life started.”

“That’s true,” Naomi said. “I guess I’ll just plan on moving into your house once you get home.”

“That sounds good,” Petr said. “And we’ll decide from there what we want to do long-term.”

He put his arm around her. “Don’t worry,” he said. “Everything is going to work itself out.”

But Naomi couldn’t help noticing that he looked a little worried himself, even as he tried to reassure her.

Chapter 12

The flight back from Europe was as different from the flight over as any two journeys could be.

Naomi had been booked in a coach seat. That was the first difference. She was also traveling alone this time, so she couldn’t even ask Petr why he had made that decision.

Maybe it was a mistake, she thought. Maybe he meant to put me in a nicer part of the plane, but he made some error.

Or maybe there had simply been no first-class or business-class seats available. That was possible.

It was also possible, she reasoned, that she was simply becoming a little bit entitled.

She hated to think it. Petr had been so good to her, and she loved him. Was she expecting too much of him? He didn’t have to buy her first-class seats.

It was just that she would have anticipated some explanation—something to prepare her—if he had deliberately decided to downgrade her. But he had said nothing.

She did her best to put that from her mind and enjoy her flight home, but it was impossible. She was achingly uncomfortable, squeezed into the tiny coach seat, rearranging her body as often as she could to stretch out the kinks in her joints.

She didn’t get a wink of sleep the entire time. The man in the seat beside her was snoring loudly and obnoxiously, and by the eighth hour of the flight, she was near tears with frustration at the fact that he had fallen asleep with his arm on the armrest. Surely he could have tucked that arm in so that she could use the armrest while he slept!

When the drink cart came around right before dinner was served, Naomi ordered a soda. She remembered, now, how reluctant she had been to get a glass of wine before boarding the flight from LA to Barcelona, and it felt ridiculous. She would have done anything for an alcoholic beverage right then. But she hadn’t remembered to check her bank account before boarding the plane, and she had no idea how much money was in it.

I’ve gotten too used to letting Petr pay for everything, she thought miserably, poking at the ravioli she’d been served for dinner.

Maybe it was a good thing that she would have a few days away from him. She needed to reacclimatize herself to standing on her own two feet. She hated feeling dependent.

It felt as if the plane ride would never end, but eventually they touched down in LA. Naomi disembarked and claimed her luggage at the baggage carousel, remembering how much easier it had been when her bags had been waiting for her at the first-class lounge in Barcelona. Exhausted and crabby, she went out to the taxi stand and got