The residence had been built in the early nineteenth century and had housed members of her family without interruption. Not as large as many royal residences in Europe, the Palazzo Reale was the most talked about structure when anyone visited Aubonne City. It was lovely and elegant, a mix of style and sophistication, and she’d lived her whole life inside the carved granite and marble walls. And now that things were returning to normal, there was less of a cloud hanging over her family.
Herself excluded.
There was a gentle knock at the door. She guessed her appointment was early, so it was much for a break. Time to be a princess again.
“Come in,” she called over her shoulder.
She heard the door open and close. But…that was odd. There was no announcement from Sara. It didn’t matter, probably because these meetings were getting to be old hat.
“Very well, Counselor. What do you need to know this time?”
Rather than hearing the Counselor General sniff his disapproval. Words bounced around the big room, and Sofie’s heart stopped.
“I need to know if you’ll forgive me.”
Oh, God.
The voice. It was a gentle, deep baritone that drifted over her the same way it had on their walks along the River Cam, or when he made love to her during a storm. It made her heart pound in her chest, and her soul believe anything was possible.
Sofie turned and standing near the door, was Ian.
He was so very handsome in his blue suit, looking every bit the lethal special agent that he was. But there was something different about him, something not right.
Then she saw his eyes, and recognized what she saw. The same sadness that had been consuming her had been doing the same to him.
And now he was here and she didn’t know why.
“Are you going to say anything?” He took several steps toward her, but Sofie couldn’t move. She was frozen in place, her back to the window overlooking the garden.
Ian was here, and with each step, another tear slid down her cheek.
“I know I don’t deserve to ask you for a thing. I turned my back on you and I don’t know how you’ll ever forgive me, but…”
He was standing right in front of her, his dark eyes filled with unshed tears, and his words tearing at her heart.
“I love you, Sofie.” He took her hands in his and kissed each one. “I haven’t been right since you left. I can’t sleep, I can’t think of anything except how I hate being without you.”
Looking down at their joined hands, one of Sofie’s tears dropped on his knuckle. “Where have you been, Ian? How could you…” She stuttered to a stop. “How could you pretend we never happened?”
“I’m an idiot. It’s my only defense and I hope you’ll take pity on me. I thought I would drag you down, that your country needed you so much that there wasn’t room for me.”
“No room for you?” Sofie reached up and for the first time in months, her hand cupped Ian’s face. Just like always, his skin was warm, smooth. “I have room. That’s all I have. I’ve been an empty shell because nothing—no job, no task, no affair of state—makes me feel alive the way you do.”
“Forgive me, Sofia. Please. I can’t live without you.” Dropping to one knee, Ian kept hold of one hand while Sofie watched him become the white knight in the fairy tale and Prince Charming all in one. Ian was her very own hero. A man who was strong, brave, and true.
And best of all, he loved her.
“Your Highness, I know we are not of the same station, but I am here with the blessing of your parents. I want to ask you, beg you, to be my wife.” He swallowed hard before continuing.
“I love you, Sofia. I want to grow a family with you, care for you, support you in any way I can.”
“You spoke to my parents?” He hadn’t left anything to chance. This wasn’t about her leaving Aubonne and going back with him to the United States, Ian was ready to give up his life for her. He was doing all of this for her.
“I want to make you happy, Sofie. Please let me make you happy. Say yes.”
On a breath, the word came out, no hesitation, no question. All she felt was love. “Yes.”
“Yes?” He stood. “Really?”
On a watery laugh, Sofie answered him again. “Yes. Yes, I will marry you, Ian Stuart. I will.”
Cradling her face in his hands, Ian dropped the gentlest kiss on her lips. It was a promise of everything to come, of everything they meant to each other. He did it again, and again. “I will love you forever, Sofie.”
“I love you, Ian. Forever.”
Reaching into the pocket of his suit he pulled out a blue box with a perfect white bow.