The Wild Heir(60)

“Most definitely not,” I assure her. But I can understand why Einar might feel ashamed if the Princess of Liechtenstein knew that he said, “I’ve jacked off your grandfather.”

Einar, I hardly knew ye. Remind me to stay on his good side.

“Okay, I’m going to pee,” Ella says, picking up a flashlight and heading to the door. “If I’m not back in five minutes…just wait longer.”

The door shuts behind her and Viktor looks at me, brows raised.

“Did she just quote Ace Ventura?”

“I think so.”

Little by little, Ella is unveiling herself to me, to everyone, her true self, the one she doesn’t feel comfortable showing to many people, the one she buries because she tries hard to impress, to be included, to feel validated. If she feels all those things with me already, I think I’m winning.

“I think you’ve finally met your match, then,” Viktor says. “I’m happy for you.”

I give him a steady look as I take a long gulp of my scotch. “There’s nothing to be happy about.”

“You’re going to get married to her.”

I look at Einar and he looks away, not wanting to get involved, though I would love to know his opinion on the matter. He sees so much and says so little. Though apparently, when he does talk, he can be a crude motherfucker.

“That’s not a guarantee,” I remind Viktor. “I believe she has two or three more days to make up her mind on whether she wants to go through with it or not.”

“That’s crazy,” Viktor says. “Why wouldn’t she?”

“Well, she doesn’t love me, and I don’t think she even likes me much.”

“She likes you,” Viktor says. “I can tell. Einar, what do you think?”

Einar clears his throat. “Well…I think you might be right, Your Highness. But whether she knows she likes him, whether she wants to like him, that’s another thing.” He then looks at me and raises his beer. “But you, Prince Magnus, you’re head over heels for her. If you don’t mind me saying, of course.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” I tell him, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“Don’t worry,” he says quickly. “She doesn’t know, if that’s what you’re worried about. You remind me of me when I was younger. Like when I was a child.”

“When was that, in the 1900s?” Viktor asks, snickering into his aquavit.

“Funny,” Einar says humorlessly, his eyes spearing Viktor, not caring that he’s giving stink eye to the Prince of Sweden. “When I was a child, if there was a girl I liked, I went out of the way to make her life miserable. I’d pull her hair. I’d put a thumbtack on her seat. I’d call her names. All because I wanted to get something out of her. Because I liked her. Sir, with all due respect, you remind me of that.”

I can only shrug because what he’s said is kind of true. If I didn’t care about Ella at all, I wouldn’t bother. I’ve never bothered with any woman before, never cared the way that I do.

But now that I know it, that I recognize it, I know I can’t continue doing it. I have to tell her how I feel. That I like her and I want this to work. And I just wish that this whole marriage thing didn’t exist, that I could just do this all in natural time, the way it happens for everyone else. I have real feelings in a very forced situation, and it’s only getting more complicated by the second.

Ella comes back shortly after having survived her session with the outhouse and we get back into it, this time Viktor doling out playing cards and getting into a drinking game.

Ella drinks a little more this time, enough that her cheeks go red and her neck looks flushed, and soon she’s getting up and saying it’s too hot in here and she needs to get some air.

Naturally, I go outside and follow her.

The moon is almost full and bathing the cabin in cool light. It’s cold, probably only five degrees above freezing, but it feels refreshing compared to the heat of the cabin.

“Are you okay?” I ask her, following her moonlit silhouette as she walks around the side of the cabin.

Then I remember that the cabin is built on the side of a rock face, and if she keeps walking, she’ll take a nasty tumble.

I quickly run to her and grab her arm, pulling her back moments before she would have fallen.

“Hey!” she cries out, but I step back and pull her with me, not letting go.

“There’s a drop-off right there,” I tell her. “You almost went over.”

“Shit,” she swears, her hands now gripping my biceps. “I didn’t know.”

“It’s kind of hard to tell in the dark.” I jerk my head back. “The outhouse is back there. I hope you haven’t been trying to pee off this ledge.”

She lets out a weak laugh though I can tell she’s still breathless. “No. Thank god. I just wanted to wander for a bit.”

“So, are you okay?” I repeat.

“Yeah,” she says. “I mean, better than if I had gone off the ledge.” She glances up at me, her hands slowly trailing down my arms. “Thank you. For being here.”

“If you haven’t noticed, I’ve been here for the last two weeks.”

She chews on her lip, seeming to consider that. “Yeah. Except for the times that you left.”