Page 103 of That Prince is Mine
“Can you take me home?” she asked in a small, exhausted voice.
“Of course.” Sophie hesitated. “I’ll let Michel know. He’s worried sick.”
Emma grabbed her hand as she walked past her. “Please tell him I’m sorry. Tell him I just need some time to think.”
“Don’t worry.” Her friend gave her a reassuring smile. “He’ll understand.”
Sophie was back in a matter of minutes to drive her home. But once they were in the lobby, she stopped to have a quick word with the hotel manager.
“No one goes in or out of the presidential suite,” Sophie said in her take-no-prisoners voice. Emma scooted a few steps away from her. The woman was hella intimidating. “No one.”
“Understood.” The pale-faced man nodded vigorously. “I will personally make sure of it.”
Sophie was back by Emma’s side in an instant and guided her to Michel’s car in the parking lot. As her friend drove them out to the street, Emma looked sightlessly out the windshield. Michel and she loved each other. Despite their many differences, they fit. She could admit that now. But how could she trust her own judgment when she was so hopelessly, so helplessly in love with the man? And how could she turn her back on her life here? She couldn’t leave her dad.
“How could he ask me to marry him?” Emma blurted, angry, confused, and frustrated. “How could he unload this on me? He spiked the ball into my court, and now I have to decide?”
“Would you rather he didn’t ask you?” Sophie said in a sad, quiet voice that stopped Emma mid-rant. “I know it’s bloody hard. But at least he’s giving you a choice. Gabriel… he just left.”
“Maybe he couldn’t ask you to sacrifice everything for him.” Emma placed a comforting hand on her friend’s arm and wondered if sacrificing their love had been the kinder choice. “Besides, I thought you said your duty lies with your country.”
“Yes.” Sophie gave her a teary-eyed smile. “But my heart lies with Gabriel.”
“Oh, sweetie,” Emma whispered, her heart breaking for her friend. Sophie would’ve left Rouleme to be with the man she loved—she would’ve sacrificed everything for him—but she never got the chance. Maybe it hadn’t been the kinder choice at all. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll think it over,” her friend urged. “Say you’ll make the choice that will make you the happiest.”
The happiest… While she wanted to help people create moments of happiness in their lives, Emma had never thought about her own happiness. She’d been so preoccupied with building a secure, stable life for herself. But rather than settling for a safe life with moments of happiness, shouldn’t she strive for a happy life, even with its ups and downs?
“I will.” Emma swallowed the tears clogging her throat. “Thank you.”
Soft classical music filled the car as Emma tried to breathe away her panic. She needed to think with a clear head, but a part of her wanted to stare blankly out the window and not think at all.
Despite her brief rant, Emma wasn’t really angry at Michel. How could she be angry with him for telling her he loved her? That he wanted to marry her? She was just overwhelmed by his proposal. What normal human being wouldn’t be after receiving a proposal from a prince? But overwhelmed or not, Sophie was right. Michel wasn’t being selfish by asking her to choose. He was respecting her right to decide what she wanted to do with her life.
“Will you still be coming to Marion’s farewell brunch tomorrow?” Sophie asked, pulling into the driveway.
“Oh… yes,” Emma stammered, surprised to find herself home. “I’ll be there.”
And when she saw Michel tomorrow, they would talk and maybe… just maybe… they could figure out a future for themselves.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Michel paced back and forth in front of the elevator, waiting for Emma to make her way up. It shouldn’t take more than a couple of minutes, but it felt as though it was taking an eternity for her to reach his floor. When the elevator doors finally slid open, all he could do was stare. She looked a little pale, with shadows beneath her eyes, but the soft smile on her face was radiant.
“Hi,” she said with a little wave.
Christ, she was beautiful. He swallowed.
Emma took a step toward him and cocked her head to the side. “Michel?”
“My apologies.” He quickly stepped aside, realizing he was blocking her path off the elevator. Then with a hand on the small of her back—he sighed in relief when she didn’t flinch away—he led her toward his suite, where everyone waited. He cleared his throat. “How are you? Did you sleep well?”
“No, Michel.” He knew it was a ridiculous question even before she arched an eyebrow at him. “I didn’t sleep a wink.”
“I couldn’t sleep either,” he said in a rush. “I was up all night… thinking about you. Worried for you.”
“We’ll talk… after.” She glanced sideways at him with tenderness and concern warring in her eyes. She huffed a sigh. “For now, let’s go have some brunch.”
