The Wild Heir(55)

“What do you mean?” I whisper.

“All this time, I’ve never once thought of you as a prince.”

I frown. “Thanks. I guess.”

“It’s a good thing. At least to me. I always assumed that you were just like your persona. Cocky and egotistical and arrogant.”

“Those all mean the same thing. And I think I’m still all those things.”

“I know,” she says. “But that’s not all you are. You’re also smarter than you look. You’re a quick thinker. You’re attentive. You’re curious and, dare I say, quirky. I don’t know anyone who goes to a bar every other night to hang out with a bunch of old people. There are a lot more sides to you than just the playboy prince one that you show to the public. In fact, I think there are more sides to you than you even show to yourself.”

Damn. We’re getting into some pretty deep limo talk back here.

“Which brings me to question tiiiime,” she sings softly, and it brings an automatic grin to my face. “Since I forgot to ask you earlier…”

“Shoot.”

“In the bar, you kept looking at me when I was talking to Erik. What were you thinking?”

I let out a soft laugh. “You want the truth?”

“Yes. Obviously.”

“I thought you were like Galadriel talking Sauron off a ledge.”

“From Lord of the Rings?” she asks, grinning.

I nod. “That’s another side that you don’t know.”

“Interesting. And what were you talking to the bartender about? You both seemed to be nodding at me.”

“Is this an official question?”

“No,” she says after a beat, snuggling in closer to me.

I swallow hard. I should just keep my fat mouth shut since I don’t have to answer it.

But there’s a part of me, the brave and bold part that chases down fear, that dances with it, that wants me to come out and say it anyway.

“I was asking him if he thought you were marrying me for love or for something else. If you were just pretending.”

She stares at me. “Oh. What did he say?”

“He said you’re the type of woman who could never fake it. You were honest and true, through and through.”

Her eyes tilt downward. “I see.”

“And I know it’s not true,” I admit. “But damn, for that moment, it was really nice to pretend.”

“Pretend what?” Her voice has dropped even lower now.

“That we were doing all of this because we wanted to.”

I feel the slight nod of her head against my shoulder.

And then there’s silence.

My words seem to fall down around us like rain outside the car, while the two of us are shuttled back to the estate, back into hiding.





Twelve





Magnus





A phone call wakes me.

What’s the point in even setting an alarm clock if there’s someone else out there in the world who is hell-bent on waking you up?

My first rule as king will be to make sure no phone calls can be placed to anyone before nine a.m., and if it’s an emergency, then the receiver must have enough warning to ingest obscene amounts of coffee before the call.

I groan, my head feeling like it’s been sawed open and a whole bag of concrete has been poured in there. I blindly grope for my phone and glance at it, expecting it to be my mother or father. There hasn’t been a day here that one of them hasn’t checked in on the status of Ella and me.

Honestly, I haven’t known what to tell them other than that we’re getting to know each other. Which isn’t a lie. It’s just a lot slower than I thought it would be.

That said, I’m surprised she agreed to come to the bar last night. Maybe all we needed to really get closer was some time out of the confines of this estate.

That, and a lot of booze.

Of course I won’t be mentioning her incognito excursion to my parents.

It doesn’t matter anyway since the phone’s screen tells me it’s Viktor calling from Sweden.

I breathe a sigh of relief that smells like stale beer and answer it.

“You, of all people, aren’t supposed to call me before nine a.m.”

“Magnus, it’s almost noon.”

I sit up in surprise. That was a mistake. The room spins. “What?” I ask, holding the side of my head while I peer at my phone. “How did that happen?”

“You tell me,” he says. “Anyway, I saw you called the other day, and I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you earlier.”

“You’re busy, so you’re excused,” I tell him, lying back down gently. I can’t believe no one has woke me up yet. Usually Ottar is banging on my door, though perhaps Ella is sleeping in as well. “How is the wedding planning?” I ask.

He has yet to know anything about Ella and me, or that Ella even exists. He doesn’t even know about the whole marriage thing on my end.

“Stressful,” he says with a sigh. “And we’re not getting married until April. I’m left out of the planning for the most part, but I think my mother has really gone crazy with it and taken Maggie along for the ride. Actually, that’s why I’m calling. They’ve gone to Paris for a few days to do some shopping. My mother, Maggie, and her sisters. Girls trip, or whatever. I was seeing if you wanted to do the same.”