She fingered her glass of wine on the table, turning it round and round by the steam. “What about your country? Is it beautiful?”
He leaned back in his chair, his posture becoming relaxed. “The most beautiful I’ve seen. It’s often been said my country has extraordinarily handsome men, and women who are among the most beautiful in the world. Which is why I could never return. Not like this.”
“Your people must miss you.”
He ignored her, and changed the topic. “What kind of furniture are you making?”
She told him about the custom made desks she was creating, and the difficulty adding a wet bar into one that a client had ordered.
“Now I know your next project for me. A desk with a mini-fridge and a microwave.”
“No, I want to get you out of your room, not give you the gear to stay in there forever.”
Nicholas came out with their entrée before Maxim could respond.
She set down her soup spoon. “You’re not the only one to ever feel like an outcast.”
“And you have?”
She nodded. “As you know, my mother is dead. I was six when she died.”
“I’m so sorry. What happened?”
“She disappeared. She was supposed to pick me up from school but never made it. Her car was found abandoned by the park. It was in the news, police searched for her for months before they found her body in the river.”
“My Belle. That’s horrible. What happened?”
She brushed away a tear. “They don’t know if she was killed, or if she…” She couldn’t say the words. Belle still couldn’t imagine why her mother would kill herself. Yet, she hated the thought that she’d been killed. “I like to think it must have been an accident of some kind.”
Maxim pushed away from the table and walked over to her, kneeling beside her. She couldn’t see his face under his hooded cloak. He reached for her hand, rubbing it gently with his thumb. “I didn’t know. I’m so sorry. My cosmetic concerns must seem so shallow to you.”
She shook her head. “No, they don’t. I just want you to know that I understand what it’s like to feel like an outsider. People stared and whispered about me at school for a few weeks. I was the girl whose mother had been found dead in the river. I’d never felt so alone.”
He squeezed her hand.
“But it didn’t last forever. People forgot, or just accepted it. I could have withdrawn, knowing I was different from everyone else. But I didn’t.”
“They never determined what happened?”
Belle shook her head. “But I had a choice to make; live my life or be dead, like my mother. Maxim, in your own way, you are dead.”
He slowly pulled his hand away from hers. “It’s true. In a way, I am dead. The Prince Maxim the world knew is gone.”
“It’s time for the new Prince Maxim to start living. The one who understands people’s pain. The one who is caring and kind. Those qualities are just as attractive as a handsome face.” She squeezed his hand. “Can I see your face, Maxim?”
He was still as he sat beside her. “It seems so foolish now, after listening to your story. You were a brave young girl, and here I am, a grown man and a coward.” He sighed, and slipped the hood off his head. Slowly, he raised his face to hers without looking at her.
Her throat tightened when she first saw his scars. It hurt her to see the damage that had been done to him. While his head was raised to her, his eyes were cast downward. “Max, I can’t see you. Look at me.”
Slowly, his lids raised.
She smiled at him. “Your eyes are beautiful.” She reached her hand to touch his cheek, running her thumb across the edge of his scar. “Does it hurt?”
“No. Not anymore. But it’s horrible, isn’t it?”
“No, it’s not. It certainly looks like something happened, but it’s not shocking. It’s nothing that should keep you locked in your room for eternity.” She nudged him with her elbow. “Hey, some chicks dig scars.”
That got a smile out of him. “But you’re kind. I’m sure strangers on the street would react like I’m a monster.”
She shrugged. “You might get a look or two. But so what?”
He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Coming downstairs to meet you was a big enough step for now. I don’t know if I can do more than that.”
“I hope you can someday. I like being here with you. But I’m not willing to be locked away. Not even with prince charming.” She winked at him.
But clearly he wasn’t feeling playful, because his hand slipped off her arm. “Then I’ll always remember this time with you. Because my bravery, if I ever had any, has disappeared, along with my looks. You don’t know what it feels like to be me.” He stood up and stepped back from her.
She looked up at him. “But I do know what it feels like to be different from everyone.”
He reached his hand out to her. “Come with me. There’s something we need to do.”
She cocked her head; surely he wasn’t suggesting
that
. Although, it probably had been a while for him.
He seemed to know what she was thinking. “It’s positively innocent, although Reginald probably won’t approve.”
“Well, if Reginald won’t approve, I’m in.” Standing up, she followed him, intrigued. He led her down the hall and up the stairs. “I thought you said this was innocent?” She arched an eyebrow.
“It is.” He patted the banister. “I had Nicholas try it out earlier. If it can support him, it can support you.”
She stared at him.
“You did say you’d slide down the banister if this was your place, didn’t you?”
She laughed. “I did. I used to slide down the banister at my grandmother’s house when I was little.” She hesitated, eyeing it up.
“I imagine it’s like riding a bike—you never forget how. Give it a go.”
Taking a deep breath, she hiked up her dress, grasped the railing, and threw her leg over it. She loosened her grip and slid down the smooth, curving wood. She shrieked as she headed for the bottom.
The prince raced down the stairs and caught her at the bottom, his fingers wrapping round her waist as he lowered her to the ground. Turning her around, he brought her closer, and quickly swiped his lips across hers. He pulled back, as if waiting for her reaction. Smiling, she leaned in and met his mouth with hers.
His trembling hands cupped her face and he kissed her passionately. She gripped his shoulders, never wanting the moment to end.
A sigh slipped from her lips when he broke their kiss. “Was it everything you hoped for?” he whispered.
She nodded. “The ride down the banister was nice, too.” She rested her head on his shoulder, then looked up at him. “While we’re on the topic of granting my wishes, it’d be great to take a walk in the park.”
She was still in his arms, but he let go and stepped back.
“Goodnight, Belle. I’m grateful you don’t see the beast that peers back at me from my mirror. But I fear you’re the only one able to see past it.”
***
The next morning as she returned to her work, she peered into the hall, straining to hear any sound that the prince was coming to her. Perhaps she had been too forward with him, too careless with her words. She’d pushed too hard and too fast.
She heard someone coming and whirled around to face the door. Her shoulders slumped when she saw it was Nicholas. Then her heart kicked up a notch when she saw he was frowning.
“What is it?”
“Belle, the hospital’s been calling you. Your father … he’s taken a turn for the worse. Come. I’ll drive you to the hospital.”
***
She ran down the hall to his room.
This can’t be happening.
She turned into his room and started shaking. Somehow, her father seemed smaller and weaker since she’d seen him two days ago. Her hand flew to her mouth. “Daddy, no!”
She knelt next to his bed, reached for his hand and started to pray.
When the doctor finally came in, he told her his vital signs were weak but stable. “The next twenty-four hours should tell us more. He’s either going to pull through this, or decline. It wouldn’t be long after that.”
She fought back a sob and nodded as the doctor left the room. Working for the prince had been for nothing. She should have been here with her father instead of worrying about saving his job. She’d been so certain he’d pull through. Why had it never occurred to her he wouldn’t? Had she let herself become so enamored with Maxim, she’d forgotten the real reason she was there in the first place?
She rested her arms on the cold metal rail of her father’s bed and let the tears out.
***
Maxim paced his room. Nicholas had called him with the news and it wasn’t good. Belle’s father was in a precarious condition. With no mother, she couldn’t lose her father, too. He couldn’t imagine how she was feeling. Did she even have anyone to turn to? He knew there was no boyfriend in her life. Her friends were back upstate. His heart pounded just thinking of it. Could he go to her?
He closed his eyes. He couldn’t. But how could he not?
He dialed Nicholas on his cell. “Take me to the hospital.”
“To the hospital? Are you sure?”
“I have to be there for her if something happens.”
“I’ll be right there.”
Maxim looked around the room where he’d spent most of his last six years. “I’ll be waiting in the lobby.”
“Of the building?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
Maxim put on his cloak and dashed down the stairs. Mrs. Downing froze as she watched him coming downstairs. A huge smile split her face. “Your highness!” Her hand fluttered over her throat. “You’re downstairs! Let me get you some milk. Some pie? Courtney could make a pie. You always loved pie. Tea?”
“Belle’s at the hospital with her father. She needs me.”
Mrs. Downing’s eyes were wide as she nodded and watched him hurry out the door without even closing it behind him.
He was fortunate to get the elevator to himself. He paced impatiently as he rode slowly down to the lobby. He’d forgotten the slow, lurching ride that left his stomach queasy. Or maybe it was fear for Belle that had left him feeling that way.
People passed him in the lobby, but he wasn’t aware of their reactions. His cloak obscured his face, but seeing a man in a dark, hooded cape must be disconcerting, as well. It was of no concern to him. Nothing could keep him from her.
Please let her father pull through.
***
Nicholas chased after him as Maxim raced down the hall. He found her father’s room and paused outside of it. It hadn’t occurred to him she might not want him here. It was too late. He
was
here, and he wanted her to know he cared; that he cared more about her than his own feeble insecurities. He knocked softly on the door. “Belle?”
She jumped and turned to him. Her eyes widened. “Maxim? What are you doing here?”
He walked toward her and held his arms open. “I couldn’t let you be alone at a time like this. I kept thinking of you as a little girl … and your mother.” He swallowed the lump in this throat.
She folded herself into his arms. He held her tight and tried to fight back his tears. It was the closest he’d been to anyone in years and it felt like magic and dreams holding her. Maybe he hadn’t come here for Belle, after all.
Maybe he needed her more than she needed him.
Belle gave him the rundown of her father’s prognosis. “It’s just a waiting game, now.”
“Then I’ll wait with you.”
***
They spent the night sleeping in uncomfortable hospital chairs, waking as nurses came in to check on her father.
Nicholas returned in the morning with coffee and breakfast for them both. Maxim offered her the orange from his meal. He felt at such a loss that he couldn’t do anything to help.
“I don’t think I can eat. But thank you.” Her face was pale and he reached for her hand.
They both turned at the sound of footsteps. Nicholas was leading a doctor into the room. “Prince Maxim? This is the chief plastic surgeon on staff. He’d like to have a word with you.”
The prince looked at Belle. She smiled. “Go. See what he has to say. You owe me a walk in the park.” She squeezed his hand.
His heart was in his throat and his voice came out in a whisper. “I will. For you.” He kissed her forehead and let go of her hand.
But Belle was shaking her head. “Don’t do it for me. Do it for you.”
He took a deep breath, nodded, and followed Nicholas and the doctor into the hall.
***
Belle’s head was spinning with hope and fear. She was thrilled for Maxim. Her father couldn’t leave her now. She grabbed his hand. “Daddy, can you hear me? I need you. There’s so much ahead of us.”
She wasn’t sure, but she thought her father squeezed her hand. “Do that again,” she whispered. And he did.
She pushed the call button for the nurse.
***
Two weeks later, her father watched her work on the last of the bookcases. “You do better work than me … my daughter.” Her father was slowly regaining his speech. The prince had insisted on him recovering at Maxim’s apartment. Mrs. Downing was in her glory waiting on him.
Belle looked up from the trim she was cutting. “Only on the finish work, Dad. I could never frame up a job like you do.”
The prince stuck his head in the room. “Why do you insist on working? The bookshelves can wait.”
She grinned at him. “I’ve got quite the to-do list. I’ve got a ballroom to remodel when I’m done here.”
He frowned. “Right. I promised you a ball, didn’t I?”
“So I could be—”
“The belle of the ball,” he finished. He paused for a moment and ran his fingers along the bookshelves. “You’ve already made over this whole place, Belle, just by being here.”
She blushed and looked down.
He held out his hand. “How about a walk?”
“Outside? Now?”
He nodded.
“You haven’t had your first surgery yet.” Doctors had planned three surgeries over the next year, but told him they’d never be able to fully correct the damage.
He smiled. “Yes. I’ve spent too many beautiful days inside alone.”
***