Player's Princess (A Royal Sports Romance)(70)

I lead her over, and we breeze through the line and get in one of the cars. They're spaced far enough apart that the couples riding them can't see each other in the dark. Ana clings to me as we roll into the ride itself, where it's pitch-black.

She looks around at the fake blood on the walls and her fingers dig into my arm.

I hold her to my side and sit back. I know what's going to happen. I've been here before. Ana doesn’t, though, so every time something jumps out at us, she screams and hugs me tighter.

"I am not scared," she protests before yelping in terror at a rubber spider.

"Sure," I tell her. "Sure, honey."

She's laughing again by the time we exit the ride.

"I want something sedate now, like that." She points at the merry-go-round.

"How about the teacups?" I suggest, pointing at the now-still ride.

"That looks calming," she says.

I hide my predatory grin as I walk behind her and hand over the tickets. The attendant doesn't seem to care. Ana picks a big pink teacup and sits down. I sit opposite her.

"We really want it balanced out," I suggest.

"Sit with me."

"If you insist." I smirk.

"Why? What are you up to, Jason?"

I scoot closer to her and grab hold of the handle in the middle of the cup, and it begins to move with the others as the ride starts. Ana eyes me.

"See, thing is," I tell her, "these things spin. The more off-balance they are, the faster you spin. The harder you pull this handle, the faster you spin. Like this."

I yank on it is hard as I can.

As the ride reaches full speed, a screaming Ana holds on to me hard, and I pull the handle with all my might, all my strength.

The teacup spins so fast, the color seems to drain from her face. Ana grabs the handle and pulls too, laughing madly as the teacup spins wildly, throwing her against me with every turn. I lean into her and savor the expression of pure joy on her face.

When the ride ends, she's all wobbly on her feet. I'm dizzy as hell, but I wear it well and hold her up as we walk down the ramp.

"No more crazy ones, please."

"One more crazy one, then we'll go ride the merry-go-round."

She sighs. "One more. Which one?"

I point at the Viking ship.

The big boat is on a giant triangular mount, basically a huge swing. It swings back and forth so far that it's a little shy of vertical at either end. As it swings, the riders scream.

"No," she says.

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes.

I kiss her cheek.

"Fine. Yes."

I grab her hand and rush toward it and pull her into the line. I always loved this one. When the riders from the last turn dismount, I rush with her to get the best seats, at the very back. The attendant clips us in, and Ana holds on to me hard, her fingers pressed into the muscle of my bicep.

"Is this safe?" she asks.

"Of course it is. It's starting."

The boat's swings build up, each one more intense than the last. Ana trembles as it starts to go vertical and the swings really kick in. I don't know when she looks more alarmed, when we go all the way forward, or all the way back, or when she looks straight down at the ground forty feet below and cries out.

It feels like the ride goes on forever. I study every movement of her face, drink in her shock and surprise and laughing joy, burn it into my head so it will never leave me. I'm sitting on a Viking longship that's lifting me up in the air and sending my stomach bouncing from my throat to my knees, and I barely notice.

I can only see her.

When it's finally over, I fulfill my promise. Ana chooses a princessy-looking unicorn on the merry-go-round, and I grab the horse next to her, appropriately a black stallion. As the ride starts and she bobs up and down, I pull out my phone and video her riding. She turns back and grins at me.

She notices, looks over, and smiles. God, she's beautiful. I could just watch her forever. When the ride finally ends, I feel a lingering sense of something lost, seeing a beautiful moment that comes only once, to be lost in time and held only in memory.

A poet would say something about the melancholy of first love, I'm sure.

After the ride, I grab her hand.

"Frog Pond time."

Ana watches the game first. The players take rubber frogs and set them on catapults, then whack the back end with a big rubber mallet. The idea is to get the frog on a little moving lily pad and win prizes.

I buy Ana three frogs and step back, again recording it on video. She looks at me nervously, brings the mallet up, and smashes it down. The frog goes flying high and she yelps, surprised by how far up it went. She jumps back with a louder cry when it lands and splashes her.

"You have to finesse it a little, honey."

She scowls at me but manages to land a frog on a pad on the second try. Unfortunately, one out of three doesn't get her a prize.

Dejected, she walks over to me and shrugs.

"We have all day, hon, and there's more games. Come on."

I grab her hand and lead her to the next game. She loves the ring toss and loves the shooting gallery even more. By the end she's hitting all the targets with the little compressed-air rifle and looks so proud.

"What about that one?"