There was a certain wildness about the prince. He was at times cruel, turning his beauty into a beast, and yet, he had moments of such tenderness that the princess wanted to cry. Was he simply wild in need of taming? No. Do not do it. Do not tame the beast. Allow him to be wild. You do not tame a lion, but it is possible to befriend it, to lie down next to it and know with a certainty that the lion will protect you while you sleep. Let him be fierce. You need fierce in your life, Valentina. Today, is a new day, you have many challenges ahead, do not forget to enjoy the simple things — like dancing in the rain.
All my love,
R
I re-read the letter over again.
It made no sense.
Who was this mysterious R, and why was she — since I’d already decided it was a girl — writing me about this prince? I had to admit, after today, it was a much needed distraction, it was just… weird.
An authoritative knock on my door made me jump. I quickly shoved the letter under my mattress and stood. “Come in.”
Sergio swept in the room, his look thunderous.
I fought the urge to cower in his presence. He had times where he appeared so… fierce. Like the lion I’d just read about.
“Yes?”
“I wanted to set the record straight.” His voice was cold.
“Okay.” I licked my lips and braced myself for the impact of his words.
“Wait.” He frowned. “What the hell are you doing?”
I looked down. “What do you mean?”
“You’re all—” he waved his hand in front of me, irritation creasing his brow “—rigid.”
“Oh.” I nodded. “I’m preparing myself for your roar.” I laughed at my own joke. He didn’t. Eh, tough crowd.
“Roar?” He looked so confused, poor guy. “Am I suddenly an animal?”
“Well you’re manners are less than perfect, but no, I just mean, I’m ready for you to be mean, get angry, do the whole intimidating thing you typically do, and then you’ll march off without making eye contact, and I’ll spend hours trying to figure out why you were so mean. Because I’m a girl, we do that. And I’m a girl who has way too much time on my hands.” I took a breath. “So whenever you’re ready.”
He opened his mouth then closed it. “You’re kind of…quirky aren’t you?”
“Yes.” I nodded solemnly. “Almost like a princess locked in a tower… the only time I ever go to the movies is if all of my uncles and brother come. Once — once I tried to go with a guy and found them all in the back row. Naturally Gio was yelling because they didn’t serve wine at the theater.”
Sergio moved across the room and stared out the window. “Tell me more.”
He wasn’t looking at me, but he seemed more relaxed.
And stories I could do.
I lived and breathed stories.
“Well…” I sat on my bed. “I couldn’t figure out why no guys ever asked me out in high school. On the last day, someone must have finally felt like they could break their silence. Dante had threatened many lives… and you’ve seen him. He’s got serious anger issues. Was Luca like that? Our father?” It felt weird asking, but I assumed they had been close, and I was desperate for some sort of connection with the man who had left me — the man who had left both of us.
Sergio hung his head. “He was… terrifying.”
“I didn’t inherit his terror.”
Sergio’s shoulders shook. I thought he was trembling until laughter bubbled out of him.
It was beautiful.
The sound.
Just like him.
Of course it would be.
“Are you making fun of me?”
“You have a dimple.” Sergio turned and crossed his arms. “I’m sorry to be the one to break the news to you, but you’re the least terrifying person I’ve ever met.”
I stuck out my tongue.
“You just made it worse.”
I chucked a pillow at him.
He moved out of the way then slowly walked over to me and sat on the bed, careful to keep at least a foot of space between us.
“Talk time?” I asked.
He nodded. “Gotta admit, I had a really scary speech for you, it was pretty heartless, cruel, the type that makes grown men cry.”
“Lucky me.”
“I can’t do it,” he admitted in a stunned voice. “Maybe it’s the dimple.”
Heat washed over my face as I reached up and touched one of my cheeks.
“One day…” He sighed. “You’ll find someone who makes you blush just like that, someone who’s just like the guys you read about in books, you’ll find a man worth fighting for.” He shook his head slowly. ”That man… isn’t me.”
His words stung, and I had no idea why. We were strangers, but rejection is rejection.
“Please don’t try.” He swallowed and looked down at his hands. “Don’t try to get me to fall for you. Don’t try to get me to fall in love with you. No seduction, no angry tears when I don’t kiss you goodnight — I can’t… I just…” His voice trembled. “Promise me you won’t ask for something I won’t ever be able to give you.”
My body was suddenly so heavy — tired. And I’d discovered in the past few days it was possible to FEEL anger in your bones, to feel it wash over you, right along with rejection. I hated it. “You said please.”
“I’m working on my bedside manner.”
“It shows.”
He smiled.
I cleared my throat and glanced down at my hands as I twisted them in my lap. They were clammy. Then again, he made me nervous. Just being around Sergio was like jumping head first into dark water — it was terrifying, yet at the same time still refreshing. “Is it because of me?”