Page 37 of Not-So-Perfect Princess
“Wait.” What he said confused her. “You said you were confident in the boat. In your crew.”
“That was before I saw you sail. I need you, Julianna.”
His words smacked into her like an unwieldy suitcase on wheels a porter couldn’t handle and nearly knocked her on her backside. No one had ever needed her before.
“I’m floored. Flabbergasted. Flattered.” Jules bit her lip to stop from rambling. She needed to be sensible about this, not emotional. “But we both know I can’t race with you. The Med Cup is right before the wedding. Enrique and my father are unlikely to change their minds and allow me to compete, even with you.”
“This will be our secret.”
Jules considered what he was saying…for a nanosecond. “That’s…that’s…”
“Doable.”
“Insane,” she countered. “If I get caught—”
“We’ll make sure you aren’t.”
A mix of conflicting emotion battled inside Jules. Part of her wanted to grab the moment and make the most of the opportunity. But common sense kept her feet planted firmly on the ground, er, path. She forced herself to keep walking toward the grotto.
“We’re not talking about a midnight sail with the two of us. I’d have to practice with a crew in daylight. They’d figure out I’m not a boy the first time I said anything.” Coming up with a list of reasons this was a bad idea was too easy. “Let’s not forget the race officials. A crew roster will be necessary. We can’t overlook the media coverage. The press will have a field day if my identity is discovered.”
“For someone who’s never sailed on the ocean you sure know a lot about what’s involved with racing.”
“I’ve raced in lakes, and I’ve followed various racing circuits for years. I know enough…” Her voice raised an octave. She took a calming breath. It didn’t help. “Enough to know that with me at the helm, the odds are you’ll lose. I’m not experienced enough.”
“Are you trying to convince me?” he asked. “Or yourself.”
“You.”
“I say you’re qualified enough. I want you to be my helmsman.”
She felt as if she’d entered a different dimension, an alternative universe. Perhaps this was a dream and La Isla de la Aurora didn’t exist. She would wake up in her room at the castle in Aliestle, not engaged. “Consider what you’re saying, Alejandro. You’re crazy if you want to risk the Med Cup on someone like me.”
“Maybe I’m crazy. Certifiably insane. But I know what I saw tonight out on the water. No one else handles La Rueca as well as you.”
“Have them practice more,” she said. “It’s late. I must get back to the palace before the sun rises.”
She quickened her pace, leaving Alejandro behind. The sooner she reached the grotto, the better. She couldn’t listen to him anymore. It hurt too much to think racing on the ocean was even a possibility. That had never crossed her mind given her father’s restrictions.
The footsteps behind her drew closer. “Don’t run away.”
“I’m heading in the wrong direction if I wanted to do that.”
“Stop.”
Jules did. She owed him that much for tonight’s sail.
He placed his hand on her shoulder.
She gasped, not expecting him to touch her.
“Please,” he said. “Consider what I’m saying.”
Warmth ebbed from the point of contact. She struggled against the urge to lean into him, to soak up his strength and confidence. She wanted to, but couldn’t. She shrugged away from his hand and counted to twenty in French. “I’ve considered it. No.”
“Racing will make you happy.” He wasn’t giving up for some reason. “You love to sail.”
“I love to sail, but it isn’t my entire life.” Jules didn’t dare look at Alejandro. She couldn’t allow herself to be swayed, even if she was tempted. “I have a duty to my family and country. That is more important than some…hobby.”
The word used derisively by her father tasted bitter on her tongue. Sailing was a pastime, but it represented the freedom to live as she wanted and a tangible connection to the mother she didn’t remember.
