Tempted by the Prince (The Raminar Family Book 4) by Elizabeth Lennox (10 ebook reader .txt) 📗

over the past eight hundred years, how did the architects build something this amazing?  Something that has endured for centuries?”

She’d never really thought about it through that lens before.  “I can’t imagine,” Rachel replied honestly, then turned to look up at him.  “If you didn’t have your royal responsibilities, would you be building things?”

He paused thoughtfully.  And then he nodded slowly. “Yes.  Most likely.”

She smiled, feeling a bit sad for him.  Not too sad because…well, because he was a freaking prince who lived a life of luxury, servants catering to his every whim, and the ability to travel wherever he wanted.  She still hadn’t figured out how he’d made the coffee this morning, but she was fairly certain that he hadn’t done it.  No way!

“So, being in charge of the infrastructure of the country was the next best thing?”

He shrugged.  “In a way.”

“Do you ever regret it?”

“No.  We all have burdens that we have to face.  Did you have an ideal childhood?  Are you doing your dream job right now?”

The happiness faded from her eyes and she looked away.  “No.  You’re right.”

Tarin paused, but instead of explaining, she closed off, hunching her shoulders.  “What just happened, Rachel?” he asked.  “What was your dream?”

For a moment, he didn’t think she was going to answer him.  She stared out at the windows, but he doubted she was really seeing them.

Finally, she answered, “I wanted to be a ballerina,” she admitted, sighing and fighting back the ridiculous sensation of feeling…somehow robbed.  “I loved dancing.  I loved the music and the movement and feeling the rhythm.”

“What happened?”

She shrugged and stood up.  “I wasn’t good enough.”  She walked out of the cathedral, blinking as the sun shone down on her.

 “How do you know that you weren’t good enough?”

She shrugged dismissively again.  “My family explained it to me.  Everyone has dreams. You didn’t get yours.  I didn’t get mine.”

He pulled her to a stop.  “I’m sorry, Rachel.  I suspect that the loss of your dream was more difficult than mine.”

She squinted up at him.  “Probably not, Your Highness.  You get to look around at buildings every day and wonder what it would be like to have built them yourself.  And over the next several days, you’re interviewing various architectural firms, asking them to do the very thing that you craved to do yourself.”

“How is that worse?”

She smiled up at him, trying to pretend that her heart wasn’t aching.  “I don’t see dancers all the time,” she explained succinctly. “So, I’m not reminded of the loss of my dream like you are.”

He shook his head.  “You’re not a horrible dancer, Rachel.  I don’t know what went on in your life before, but you’re an extremely good dancer.”

She shrugged.  “Yes, well, it was a dream.  Dancers don’t really make enough money to live on anyway, so it wasn’t a realistic dream.  And it’s a very competitive career.  I was smart and studied hard in school, got good grades and now,” she paused, looking up at the beautiful blue sky with small puffs of white clouds.  “I’m happy with my job and my life.”

He eyed her carefully and Rachel squirmed under the weight of his gaze, feeling as if he could see what she kept carefully hidden.  “Someone convinced you to give up on your dream.”  He moved to stand in front of her.  “Who was it?”

Her eyes shuttered and she looked out across the skyline of Paris.  “This is a much better view than from the top of the tower,” she said, purposely changing the subject.  “I like it here. It isn’t so high up that it’s scary.”

He frowned, but she refused to budge.  “Ready to go?” she asked.

He sighed and turned.  “Fine.  But this conversation isn’t over.”

She wondered why he even cared.  But she was also relieved that he was willing to drop the subject, at least for the moment.  “So what’s next?  I know that you’ve scheduled meetings with two architectural firms.  But…?”

“There’s something I want to show you first.”

They walked down the three hundred steps, but instead of getting into the waiting SUV, he led her down the street, making a few turns, and then…he stopped.

“What is that?” she gasped, staring up at what looked like a bronze man coming out of a stone wall.

“It’s called ‘Le Passe Murielle’.  It’s about a man, named Duteille, who suddenly discovered that he could pass through walls.  He was imprisoned at one point, but still snuck out through the walls at night only to be back in the morning, confusing the warden.  He had an affair with a woman, sneaking through walls to avoid detection from her husband.  But eventually, he lost his ability to pass through the walls and got stuck.  So, here he rests, stuck in the stone wall for eternity, cursed to stare out at everyone who walks by.  He’ll live his life here, unmoving and frozen in time.”

Rachel stared up at the bronze statue, her heart thudding in her chest.  “How desperately sad,” she whispered.  “What a magical gift, to be able to pass through walls like that.  And yet, to find himself stuck forever.  The gift turned into a curse.”

“That’s awfully poetic, Rachel,” he teased, leaning forward.

She blushed and looked away.  “I used to be romantic,” she said, flicking her hair over her shoulder.  “Then I…”

“Then you were told you can’t dance,” he finished after she paused.  Tarin took her hand and led her to the waiting SUV, helping her inside.  “Back to business,” he announced.

Rachel was grateful to start working.  The three tourist stops in Paris had been wonderful, but after her revelations about her dreams –she had no idea why she’d told Prince Tarin about that– she wanted to get back to her normal routines, lose herself in her job. Working projects like this wasn’t her