Daily torture. That’s how Mackenzie regarded the task of opening up the newspaper and seeing a visual account of how Devereaux had spent the previous night. From past trends, she knew if his behaviour was particularly outlandish, he made front page news. If not, she had to flick through the paper to find his photo in the social pages. Two days after she’d spent the night in his bed, subsequent photographic evidence of his womanising had been like an attack to her heart with a machete.
Even having promised Gabe he’d start settling down and attend the gala ball planned at the completion of the yacht racing series, Devereaux had gone out the very next night and been photographed again.
Bitterness built in layers over her initial pain.
The night after he’d had Mackenzie in his bed, he’d done something extraordinary. Devereaux had broken with his pattern of the last three years and instead of taking a blonde home for the night, he’d been photographed with a brunette. The woman’s face had been obscured in the photograph because she’d deliberately hidden her features with her handbag, but those who’d seen them at the club together, had made statements confirming she was very beautiful.
It was hardly a surprise. Of course he’d have another beauty. Suddenly, the world seemed full of them and Mackenzie felt very gauche.
Steeling herself, she bit into her toast and reached for today’s paper.
‘Two nights—same woman. Prince Devereaux in Love?’ the front page newspaper heading screamed at her.
Mac sat forward, eyes opened wide as she did a mental double take and re-read the headline. Her attention flew to the photograph and her heart stopped beating in sheer shock. Enormous pressure built in her chest while tension pervaded every cell, muscle and tendon. It was impossible to breathe. Her hands flew to her chest. She felt dizzy. Her throat was dry and constricted.
When she finally managed to take a breath, the inhalation was too shallow.
Even needing to struggle to draw each breath she couldn’t banish the shock. Everything in her recoiled from what she saw. All she could do was focus on drawing breath for her own survival.
The photo blurred. Dark spots danced in her peripheral vision. They grew larger, joined together and obscured her vision just like a black curtain being drawn across her eyes. Her head became too heavy for her neck to support. Her body slumped …
Mac regained consciousness on the elegant settee of the breakfast room.
‘Mackenzie.’
She gasped as she looked up into deep blue eyes and thought it was Devereaux. Her heavy lids fluttered closed again. It wasn’t Dev. Gabriel was the one who stood over her.
Firm hands on her shoulders gave her a very gentle shake. ‘Mackenzie, can you hear me? Can you wake up?’ Gabriel again.
Yes, she could hear him. Yes, she could probably wake up but she wasn’t sure she wanted to right now.
Memory of the newspaper photo filled her mind’s eye and she moaned.
‘Are you in pain, Miss Roberts?’ She didn’t recognise the second male voice, but it was accompanied by a clinical touch to her forehead.
‘Doctor Lester is here, Mackenzie,’ Gabe informed her.
Nausea roiled in her stomach, forcing her to open her eyes as she levered herself up.
‘Steady.’ Gabe’s arms were around the back of her shoulders, helping her sit.
‘Do you remember what happened?’ the doctor asked.
Mac shook her head slightly, unwilling to admit what had caused her such distress she’d passed out. She still couldn’t speak. Everything in her concentrated on fighting the waves of nausea which kept rolling in whenever she remembered the image she’d seen.
It couldn’t be true.
Her mind must’ve been playing tricks on her.
She needed to get the newspaper and look again at the photo.
‘I’d like to run some blood tests, Miss Roberts.’
‘I’ll be okay.’ She finally managed to squeak out the words.
‘Nevertheless you’ll have the blood tests, Mackenzie,’ Gabriel insisted with gentle authority.
Ten minutes later, she’d been jabbed with needles—too cowardly to admit that it wasn’t anything more than alarm which had made her lose consciousness. Her body had shut down, unable to process and deal with what she’d seen. But, as she’d sat through the needles, she’d made up her mind. She had to see Devereaux straight away. She had to warn him.
‘Can I get you anything?’ Gabriel asked.
He was so kind. Why couldn’t she have fallen in love with him? He was every bit as good-looking as Devereaux, he just didn’t have that playboy charm which was obviously her weakness.
Her throat parched, she croaked out, ‘I’d love a cup of tea.’
Gabe smiled. ‘Of course. The British answer for everything. I should’ve guessed!’
He mightn’t have practised playboy charm, but underneath his serious exterior, Gabriel still had a sense of humour. Unfortunately his kindness and caring only made her feel more miserable.
‘How do you take it?’
‘Just white. No sugar.’
Gabe nodded to a maid who hovered close by, and the servant immediately shot into action.
‘One teaspoon of sugar might be a good idea just this once,’ the doctor said. He’d finished putting all the vials of blood into his bag and proceeded to clip it closed. ‘Rest today. Some of these results will come back this afternoon. Others will take a day or two,’ he said. ‘If you feel any worse, I want you to have me called straight away.’
‘Thank you, doctor.’
‘Definitely no work, Mackenzie,’ Gabe insisted.
‘I’m sure I’ll be fine.’
‘The tea, Your Majesty.’ The servant passed the teacup to Gabe and bustled from the room.
Gabe smiled kindly as he passed the teacup to Mac.
Despite Devereaux’s suggestion that Gabriel was considering having a relationship with her, Mac couldn’t see it. He was ever the gracious host, and sure, he looked at her now with concern for her health, but she didn’t pick up on anything personal in the way he interacted with her. Gabe treated her more like she’d expect to be treated by an older brother. After they’d dined with Khalid and Sabihah for the second time, Gabe had shown her the view of Santaliana. There hadn’t been any awkwardness about it. Devereaux’s brother hadn’t seemed interested in any romantic or intimate connection—thank goodness! Devereaux had to be wrong.
Devereaux!
How could her mind have wandered for a second from the importance of what she had to do?
‘I’ll walk with you, doctor,’ Gabriel said. ‘Mackenzie, I won’t be long. Stay there and drink your tea. I’ll be back shortly.’
Mac nodded, but had no intention of sitting still. She had to get to the breakfast table—had to look again at the paper to know whether she really had seen what she thought she’d seen.
Teeth clamped together tightly as she prepared herself. Mac worked on keeping her steps steady as she stood and took the few short paces to the breakfast table.
Instant recognition hit hard once again. There was no mistake.
She’d have to wait for Gabriel to return, but then she needed to go and warn Devereaux.