The nurse lets out a sigh and turns to face me. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. You can’t.”
Prince Luca squeezes my hand, and we both stand up. He puts his arm around my shoulders and leads me out of the room. When we get to the lobby, tears fill my eyes.
“I can’t go back to that house, Luca. I can’t. I know I’ll just be seeing visions of her on the floor. Her skin grey, her lips blue…” I shake my head. “I can’t.”
“Come on,” he says, leading me out of the hospital. “I’ll take you to the castle.”
I don’t have the energy to think about the ramifications of that. The tiredness has settled deep in my marrow, and I let the Prince lead me to his car.
I could blame tiredness completely, but the truth is that it feels good to lean on him. I’ve always been the one to provide support for my sister, for my mother, even my father at times. I’ve always been the strong one.
Now, I don’t feel strong.
I need help.
With Luca’s gentle touch, his kind eyes, and his warm embrace, I know I can’t resist him—and I don’t want to.
That night, when I climb into Prince Luca’s bed, I’m worried he’ll want to have sex. He emerges from the bathroom and slips into bed beside me, but his hands don’t wander. He wraps them around me and kisses the top of my head.
He knows I can’t have sex with him right now.
Even in the morning, when I wake up to his erection poking me in the back, he just lays a soft kiss on my forehead and rolls over to get up.
We spend a week like that as Margot recovers in the hospital. Prince Luca becomes my rock, and I lean on his support more than I ever imagined I would. His kisses are soft, and tender, and his touch is nothing but loving.
By the end of the week, when the haze of panic and sadness starts to lift, I look at him with new eyes.
He’s not the rough, sexy, irresistible man I thought he was. He’s rough, and sexy, and irresistible, of course—but that’s not everything he is. He’s caring. Thoughtful. Supportive. His strength gets me through one of the worst weeks of my life, and every time he drops me off at the hospital and drives away to deal with his own responsibilities, I miss his presence beside me.
Margot doesn’t speak much. She avoids my gaze, and her eyes are dim. Her skin, usually bright and glowing, is sallow and sunken.
I spend every day with her, even though she tells me I don’t need to. By the end of the week, Margot is strong enough to sit up and move around on her own.
On the day she’s going to be discharged, my beautiful, bright sister looks at me with a determined set to her jaw.
“The doctor told me about a facility in the countryside. It’s kind of like rehab, except mostly just a therapy retreat. Since I’m not a regular user, they recommended I go there.”
My heart flips. “Really?”
Margot nods. “I need help. I don’t even remember anything about that night. The doctor said that can happen with trauma and overdoses, but… I don’t know. I have a bad feeling.” Her face darkens, and she shakes her head. “I need to get out of Farcliff.”
“I’m proud of you, Margot.”
She gives me a tight smile. “I don’t deserve you.”
Throwing my arms around my sister, I nuzzle my head into her neck. I blink back tears, because I don’t want her to see me cry right now. I need to be strong for Margot, too.
“No word from Dad?” she asks when I pull away.
I shake my head. “I left a message at his house in the Bahamas, but they said he’s on a cross-Atlantic sailing trip.”
“Figures,” Margot grins. “It’s just you and me, then. As usual.”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
That night, Margot and I go home. It’s the first night that I sleep in my own bed in over a week. I toss and turn all night, missing the weight of the Prince’s arm across my body.
The next day, I drive Margot to the facility. It’s about halfway between Farcliff and Westhill, the country castle where Prince Gabriel stays most of the year. Margot will spend ninety days isolated from everything and everyone, working on herself. She’ll have no access to internet, and only have dedicated phone