Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
I would have said something like, “You were the best casual fling I could have ever had. I’ll miss you.”
And he would have said something like, “I’ll never forget you, Princess. Take care of yourself.”
But that’s not what happened at all. Paul shook hands with Jackson and carried his luggage into the plane while I stood just outside the door of the Bentley we’d taken to the airport. Jackson leaned against it, hands going to my waist, and he pulled me into him. I immediately sank into his body, my cheek pressed into his chest, and I let him hold me for a long time. I tried to memorize the feel of him, the smell. I reveled in the safety his arms always brought me, and I listened to his heartbeat for the last time.
“This doesn’t feel right,” he finally said, and I lifted my head. “I’ve never met someone so right for me and so wrong at the same time.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, but my smile didn’t stay long. “I wish we could just go somewhere and without regret or consideration of others, start a new life.”
“That would be perfect,” he admitted softly, then bent his head to my lips. When he released me from the soft kiss, his expression was so very sad. “But that’s not our lives, is it?”
I shook my head morosely. “No, it isn’t.”
Jackson put his hand to the side of my neck, thumb under my jaw, and locked eyes with me. “I fell for you, Camille. Hard. Harder than I ever knew was possible. My heart is tied up, and it’s hurting like fuck to get on that plane.”
And that’s when my tears started. The minute he saw them, he cursed softly and pulled me back into him and held me while I cried.
Eventually, though, I pushed back enough so I could have his eyes again. “I love you, Jackson Gale.”
I half expected him to be embarrassed by that declaration, maybe even a bit spooked by the drop of the L-word. Instead, his face softened and he smiled at me. Both his hands came to my face, and he bent in close. “I love you too. And there won’t ever be another like you.”
I couldn’t stand it another minute. I went to my tiptoes, pressed my lips hard against his, and then tore myself away from him. Moving back a step, I crossed my arms over my stomach because it hurt along with my heart. I nodded toward the plane and saw that Paul had come back down and was standing at the base of the stairs to give us space.
Jackson looked so torn. At one point, I thought he’d scoop me up and carry me aboard, and I’m not sure I would have fought.
But ultimately, he smiled—the most beautiful smile he’d ever given me—and let it stay in place as he turned and walked away. I knew the minute it slipped because his shoulders hunched as he made his way to the plane.
Paul moved to my side as the stairs retracted upward and asked, “Would you like to stay and watch takeoff?”
I shook my head. “No. Let’s go.”
I’ve been crying in the back seat ever since, not even embarrassed that Paul is witnessing my breakdown. I don’t have the bandwidth to care because my heart is breaking and it hurts too much to think of anything else.
When we pull onto the palace grounds, I expect things to be quiet. But there are several police cars still there and agents milling about. What surprises the hell out of me is that my father is standing under the veranda as we pull in. He opens my door when Paul brings the car to a stop.
“What are you still doing up?” I ask him, sure that they would have retired long ago.
“I was waiting for you,” he says, holding out his hand. I take it and let him help me from the car.
My father studies my face. I’d managed to dry the tears but I’m sure my eyes and nose are red as beets. When I told him I was going to the airport with Jackson to see him off, my father seemed like he wanted to say something but wasn’t quite sure what. I know he regrets the way he treated Jackson, especially given that he saved our lives.
“Hard to say goodbye?” he guesses as he tucks my hand in his elbow and walks me inside.
I lean over, touch my head to his shoulder, and lift it again. “The hardest.”
We walk for a while in silence until we reach the foyer and grand staircase. I lift my foot to take that first step but my father holds me back, angling his body to look at me. “You love him?”
The question shocks me, and I have to ask, “You mean Jackson?”