The Wild Heir(74)

“Then he’s stuck with you,” she says. She puts her hand on my arm. “I mean that in the best way possible. I think marriage will teach him to appreciate the things he has once he learns there is no easy way out.”

Except for that clause in the contract I signed, I think.

She claps her hands together. “Okay, enough of that sort of talk, right? Let’s get you out of that dress and into a new one.”

“A new one?” I ask absently.

“Yes. For the gala tonight at the museum. You’re going to want to shine, my dear, and believe me, I have a lot of options. And guess what, none of them have sleeves. How scandalous!”



I’m nervous.

I can’t decide if I’m nervous because it’s this damn gala, if I’ve been sitting alone in this parlor for too long, or because I haven’t seen Magnus since the interview and so much has happened since then.

It’s probably all of those things.

I keep looking at the old, ornately-carved grandfather clock ticking in the corner of the giant room, counting down the minutes. I was served a small glass of champagne by the Queen’s butler a little while ago but other than that I’ve been sitting in my fancy red silk gown in silence.

“Ella.”

Magnus’s rough voice comes from behind me and I turn around in my seat to see him in the doorway. I don’t think I’ve ever been so glad to see him, and it makes my stomach do trampoline flips.

I get to my feet as he strides right over to me.

I thought maybe there would be some awkwardness since this is the first time we’ve seen each other since the interview. That maybe he regrets what we did or maybe he fears that I would.

But it’s nothing like that.

He grabs me by the waist and pulls me to him, longing and fire dancing in his eyes as they meet mine, and then he kisses me.

I’m immediately swept away, out of this room, into a little universe that consists of just the two of us. I kiss him back, eagerly, hungrily, because I want him to know how I feel, I want him to know that I’ve missed him, that I need him by my side through all of this.

“I am so sorry,” he says, pulling his lips away, his hands cupping my face. “I should have been here. You left so early this morning, I didn’t even get a chance to say hello.”

“It’s fine,” I tell him, my fingers curling over his wrists.

“If it’s fine, then you’re a fucking trooper,” he says, leaning in again to kiss me. And then kiss me again. And again.

I know I should push him away, that we’re in his parents’ royal palace, that this isn’t proper, but I can’t. His mouth against mine is like shock paddles to my heart. I need more and more and more. My lips hard against his, our tongues dancing through silk.

To think I’ll be kissing this man for the rest of my life.

I’ve thought that thought many times already, but this is the first time it doesn’t scare me.

Finally, he pulls back and rests his forehead against mine, gasping for air. “This is why I should have been here. Ella, I need you like I’ve never needed anyone. Why didn’t you come to see me last night?”

“Why didn’t you come to my room?” I ask him. “You’re the one who got in late.”

He presses his fingers into my cheek, his eyes searching my face. “I wanted to. I stood outside your door after I got back, like a fucking creeper. I just, I didn’t know how you felt after what happened. I didn’t want to push you in any way, but god how I wanted to push you.”

I smile, my hand going to his hair and running my fingers through it. This man has the best damn hair in the world. “So, then next time, you know. Push me.”

He grins right back. “If you’re still considering having your own room, you know I’ll do my best to change your mind.”

“Magnus,” his mother barks.

Immediately our hands drop away from each other and we turn toward her. She’s standing with her hands on the hips of her long glittery dress, Tor her butler behind her, and if I’m not mistaken, beyond them I see the four blonde heads of his sisters hovering in the background.

The funny thing is, I feel like we were doing something we shouldn’t have, as if this engagement and marriage was supposed to stay a sham and never evolve into anything more.

Or perhaps I feel that way because of what the Queen had said to me during my dress fitting.

He’s fickle and he doesn’t always make the right decisions and I would hate for you to be a casualty of that.

I push that thought out of my head. It won’t do me any good.

The Queen comes forward and introduces me to Magnus’s sisters, Cristina, Britt, Irene, and Mari, whom I already know.

They seem really nice, really pretty, really blonde, and really happy that I’m here, which is nice. At least with this family there’s none of that opposition that you always hear about with weddings like this.

And I’m also relieved that all of us are going to the gala together—it takes a lot of the pressure off the two of us.

Magnus doesn’t let go of my hand for the entire limo ride to the museum and he’s always pulling me close to him. I know I like him for a lot more than his looks and his body but the fact that he’s ripped as shit—and I now know what all that feels like under my fingers—and built like a mountainside, makes me feel wonderfully protected. Secure. Safe.