The Prince's Bride (Modern Fairytales) (8 page)

“Alone?” he asked softly.

“Yeah.” She stared straight ahead. “It’s just safer that way.”

He thought on that, and the girl he’d known back in New York, who had tightrope walked a wall that was easily twenty feet off the ground in ballet slippers…just for fun. “Since when is being safe so damn important to you?”

“Since I grew up and realized it was better than being hurt,” she answered, her voice cracking. “It’s just not worth it.”

He stared at her, pain for her loss hitting him deep. While he still wasn’t sure what happened all those years ago, it hurt him that she’d been damaged by the past. That carefree girl he’d known was gone, and though he didn’t know how, he felt responsible.

And he understood all too well what it felt like to be alone.

“What happened to you?” he asked softly.

“The same thing that happens to everyone.” She lifted a shoulder. “Life.”

“Life doesn’t have to harden you,” he said, nodding at another employee of the palace.

“I disagree. I think it’s a part of growing up. Life’s disappointments are what make you stronger. They’re what make you…you.” She tugged on a piece of her hair, scrunching her nose up adorably. He’d always liked her tiny button nose. And her sparkling eyes. And the way her beautiful smile always turned into a musical laugh that captivated him. Hell,
everything
. “They’re what make you survive, too. You take those lessons, and that pain, and learn from them.”

“What if someone you love hurts you?”

“Then you never let them do it again,” she answered quickly, her fingers slipping on his bicep. “And you don’t give second chances to people who taught you a lesson.”

He let out a small laugh. “That’s a very black and white view in a world full of color.”

“The rest of the world might see colors,” she said. “But I don’t.”

“Well, that’s just sad.” Servants opened the front door for them, and he led them to the town car without another word, mostly because he didn’t know what to say. When they reached the driveway, he tipped his head toward the car door. “Ladies first.”

She shot him a look, but slid inside. She wore a black shirt today, and a pair of blue jeans that hugged her perfect legs and ass like an art form. Once he settled in beside her, before he even closed the door, she tapped her fingers on the seat and said, “So where are we going?”

“You
really
don’t like surprises, do you?”

“Last time I was in this car I was being abducted by a prince.” She gave him a hard look. “So I’m a little cautious now.”

He shrugged a shoulder. “Well, this time that asshole of a prince is taking you
out
, not locking you up. And, to be fair, you’re free to roam the castle grounds and gardens. You’re the one who refuses to leave your room.”

She frowned at him. “How do you know that I haven’t left?”

“Because I asked.” He gave her a look, reaching into his breast pocket. “Do you honestly think I haven’t asked after your welfare the whole time you’ve been here? Every day, I ask how you’re settling in. And every day, I’m told you haven’t left your room, but are doing well otherwise.”

She looked out the window. “That’s because I choose not to leave.”

He shook his head, uncapping the bottle of tequila he’d pulled out of his jacket. “Go to the library, at the very least. Do you still love to read?”

“I do.” She eyed him and the drink in his hand nervously. “What are you doing with that?”

“Throwing it out the window at my people, just for fun.” He blinked at her. “That’s considered fun, right? If not, I’m a fuck up.”

She rolled her eyes, but a smile that she couldn’t hide from him played at her lips. “I never thought princes cursed so much.”

“Only with people I trust.” He lifted the drink. “But, anyway, if I recall, an item on your bucket list was to get sloppy drunk, so I figured I might as well help you cross off another item, since you’re stuck with me for now.”

“Oh God.”

He smirked. “Scared?”

“Never,” she replied quickly, holding out her hand. “Give me some.”

“In a second. Oh, and here.” He reached into his left pants pocket and pulled out the item he’d forgotten existed until this morning, when he found it on his dresser. “I didn’t mean to keep this from you.”

Her fingers brushed his as she snatched it away, leaving a trace of her skin on his. “Oh, praise baby Jesus.”

“You missed it, I assume?” he asked, offering her the bottle.

She hesitantly took it from him, lifting it to her lips and taking a swig. Swallowing, she cringed and swept her hand across her mouth. “God. That’s
awful
.”

“I know.” He grinned at the face she made—half disgust, half pain, 100 percent adorable. “That’s what makes it so good.”

She shuddered, holding the bottle out to him. “If you say so.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” he reminded her, smirking. “Did you miss your phone?”

“Wouldn’t you miss yours if it was taken from you for four days?”

“No, I don’t think I would.” He shrugged and took the bottle back, frowning down at it. “Truth be told, I’d love for someone to take my phone from me for that long. To have some peace and quiet. But…”

She stared at him, and for the first time since he’d revealed his identity to her, she wasn’t looking at him with anger. Reaching forward, she took the bottle right back out of his hand and took a healthy swallow of the amber liquid. Coughing, she pounded her chest and rasped, “But sometimes you just wish you could escape, even for a short time?”

“
Yes
.” He turned to her. “Very much so.”

“I get that.” She broke off their eye contact and looked out the window, clutching the bottle so hard her knuckles whitened. “I think everyone, at one time or another, wishes that they could run away.”

He didn’t say anything to that because from what he could piece together from her life, she’d done that. She ran, and something told him she hadn’t stopped yet. “In New York, with you, I kind of got to feel anonymous.”

She took another drink, not even wincing this time, and offered him the bottle. At this rate, she’d be sloppy drunk well before they arrived at their destination, and he’d be carrying her over his shoulder, caveman style. The idea had some merit.

“Because you lied about who you were?” she asked.

“No. Because I was with you.” He lifted a shoulder, taking the bottle and putting the cap back on. She stared at his fingers, her lips parted. “With you, I
was
someone else. The same thing happened in that nightclub, and I feel it now, too. You bring out something in me that no one else does. I don’t know why, or what it is, but with you, I can just…be me, and I don’t have to pretend to be anything but that.”

Slowly, she met his gaze again, her soft blue eyes softer than ever before. Her pupils were a little dilated, and her cheeks more than a little flushed. “And that’s not something you get to do a lot?” she asked quietly.

“No,” he said simply.

Shaking her head, she clucked her tongue and lowered her lids. “Well, that’s just sad. You should be able to be yourself around anyone.”

“Guys like me, we can’t let our guard down unless it’s with someone we trust. A spouse, a child, a father, or a sibling…only one of which I have.”

She licked her lips and gripped her knees, eying the bottle of alcohol in his hand. “You don’t have any brothers or sisters?”

“I told you in New York I didn’t.”

Shrugging, she avoided his eyes. “I didn’t know if that was true.”

“I didn’t tell you any lies. I just didn’t tell you my real identity. If you’d asked me back then if I was a prince, I would have told you the truth. But I liked that you didn’t know. That you treated me like a regular guy.” He rested a hand on his knee, tapping his fingers. “Everything we had was real.”

After a moment of silence, she nodded. “Okay.”

They were almost at their destination. Uncapping the bottle again, he took a drink and handed it off to her. She took it readily. “It’s just me and Dad, so he’s the only one I can talk to freely, which is probably why he wants me married off as soon as possible.”

She winced. “To that princess he likes.”

Was it just him, or was that jealousy tingeing her tone? “Yeah.” He rubbed his jaw, watching her closely. “I get it. He’s worried that after he succumbs to his illness, I’ll be alone and that I’ll stay that way.”

“What’s wrong with him?” she asked, her grip tightening on the bottle.

“His heart. The doctors say he has a year, maybe two, left.” He swallowed hard, because the idea of losing his father hurt. It always did. He couldn’t imagine a world without him in it. “It’s not something I like to dwell on, but it has forced me to realize that eventually I’ll need to make some changes in my life for the good of the country—but mostly for him.” Hell, he
owed
it to him.

To be the best man he could be.

The best
ruler
.

She hesitated, her brow crinkling, and took a long drink. After she lowered the bottle, she handed it back, wiping her mouth again. “Such as…?”

“Marriage. Babies. Princesses.” He gave her a level look. “I’ve been avoiding it until now, but once we know what’s going on with us…”

She pressed a hand to her stomach, looking more than a little queasy at the reminder of why she was here, with him, in his town car, drinking tequila, when they both knew she wasn’t going to be pregnant. Yes, protection failed sometimes. But the chance of that happening to them was literally somewhere between zero and seven percent.

He’d Googled it.

“Who is she, then?”

“Who is who?” he asked, taking one last drink, watching the way she took a deep breath and the affect it had on her breasts. He forced his eyes north—and caught
her
watching him with that same intense scrutiny.

“The lucky princess your father picked out.” She stole a quick glance at him then stole the bottle. She swallowed a mouthful of tequila, and he took the bottle back, capping it and tucking it away. “The one who will bring money, and military force, and strength to your country, as well as herself.”

“Her name is Princess Genevieve.” He dragged a hand through his hair, blinking as the world around her was spinning a little bit. That hadn’t taken long at all. Clearly, he was losing his touch. “She’s nice enough, I suppose, but there’s nothing there. I told you, unless you’re a fan of shoes, you won’t have much in common. And there’s no chemistry.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, her words slurring together slightly.

“She doesn’t make me ache so much that all I can think about is touching her. Kissing her. Having her.” He hesitated but then reached out, caressing her cheek. Her eyelids drifted shut, and her lips parted on a sigh, and he trailed his fingers over her jaw. “She doesn’t pull me apart with nothing more than a sarcastic comment that’s meant to tear me to shreds but really only makes me want her more. She doesn’t make me feel…
anything
.”

A small breath left her lips, and she swayed closer. “Leo…”

He ran his fingers down her arm “She doesn’t make me feel like
this
.”

Curling his other hand around the back of her neck, he leaned in, seconds from rediscovering just how perfect her mouth felt against his. She let out a moan, giving herself over to him, but her eyes flew open as the car stopped. The second she realized how close he was to kissing her, she lurched back, breathing heavily, and touched her fingers to her un-kissed lips.

She dropped her hand to her lap and took a long, drawn out breath. “Well, I’m sure she’s lovely, anyway.”

“Yeah.” He clenched his jaw, knowing that if that car hadn’t stopped, she’d be in his arms right now, and he’d be kissing her until they both forgot all about Princess Genevieve. “Lovely.”

Chapter Ten

Desperate to look at anything other than Leo, and the passion in his eyes that threatened to consume her in one giant bite, she glanced out the window. They’d pulled over to the curb in front of an ice cream shop. God knew she could use some of that to cool off the heat raging through her body at that almost-kiss.

“Alicia, I—”

“Ice cream?” She cut him off, knowing whatever he was about to say would be sweet, and perfect, and designed to make her trust him again. But she didn’t
want
to. “That’s what we’re doing?”

He flexed his jaw, then opened the car door and got out, holding his hand down for her. “Not just any ice cream. The best ice cream in the whole country—maybe the whole world.”

A nervous laugh escaped her as she slid her hand inside his, because the feel of his skin on hers again was almost too much, and she was seconds from forgetting all her reasons for keeping her distance and just freaking kissing him already. “It’s that good?”

“Yes,” he said, shooting her a long look out of the corner of his eye. “The kind of good that starts in your belly, and slowly spreads through every inch of your body until everything feels so amazing you just want to die.”

A shiver swept her, because she knew exactly how that felt. He’d shown her in that hallway. He led her to the ice cream shop, opening the door for her. She walked inside, stopping when she saw it was completely empty. “That’s pretty…descriptive.”

“Is it?” The shop door shut behind them, and he locked it.

She laughed uneasily. “So…ice cream.”

“Right.” He walked behind the counter, watching her from under his ducked head. “Still like rocky road?”

“I’m more of a cookie dough kind of girl now,” she said slowly, biting her lip and watching him far too closely. The afternoon sun played with his hair, making it look darker. “Are you supposed to be back there?”

“I asked permission. The owner agreed to give us a few hours alone in the shop.” He gave her a small smile, making her heart flutter. “I’m going to make you my favorite sundae. It’s a secret recipe that no one else knows.”

A surprised laugh escaped her, and she stepped closer, even though she knew she should stay as far away as possible from him. “You make your own sundaes?”

“Of course I do.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Why do you sound so surprised?”

“You have cooks. Maids. A valet. Everything you’d see on Downton Abbey, and more.”

He frowned. “Downton what?”

“Never mind.” She waved a hand. “What I’m saying is, you have people to do this stuff for you.”

“Yeah.” That brow cocked up again, and he slid his hands into latex gloves like he’d done it a thousand times before. “And?”

“
Annnnnd
I would assume they make your sundaes for you.”

Obviously.

“Then you’d assume wrong. Contrary to what you seem to think, just because I’m a prince doesn’t mean I’m incapable of doing anything for myself.” He opened the freezer. “I bet a lot of things I do would surprise you.”

Despite her nerves, and her resistance toward him in general, she found herself leaning on the front of the freezer and saying with genuine curiosity, “Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Like…” He pulled a dish down from the back shelf. “I work here once a month.”

She pursed her lips. “How do people not recognize you?”

“Same way they didn’t in the club.” He touched his head. “We wear hats, and I darken my hair to hide the blond so no one realizes who I am. It’s a fun little escape.”

“I’m sensing a theme,” she said slowly.

“What kind of theme?” he asked, perching the scoop over the rocky road ice cream and lifting a brow at her in question.

“You’re like Jasmine, in Aladdin.” She pointed to the chocolate cookie dough ice cream on the opposite side of the freezer. “You like to pretend to be normal, like everyone else, because you feel trapped.”

He snorted. “I’m not Jasmine, and I’m not trapped.” He shrugged, digging the scoop into the ice cream. “Though I’d look awesome in her little blue outfit and would love to have a tiger.”

“You’ve watched
Aladdin
?” she asked, surprised he even knew what she was talking about.

“My little cousins love Disney,” he replied with a smile. “Especially Jasmine.”

“You have cousins?”

“Yes. They’re girls, ages eight and nine.” He got another bowl. “My mother’s sister was twelve years younger than her, so it was a big age gap.”

“What else do the girls like?”

He winced. “Putting nail polish and makeup on me.”

She leaned on the counter, watching him with fascination. She couldn’t help it. Picturing him playing with two girls who literally dressed him up was adorable and…
enticing
. “What else do you let them do?”

He scooped out his serving of strawberry ice cream. “Whatever the hell they want. It’s a great escape—” he broke off, meeting her eyes.

“Again, with the theme,” she said softly.

“Yeah, I guess.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s a great way to escape the stress of the office and the decisions I have to make there.”

“What’s the last big decision you had to make?”

“It was against a hostile nation to the west of us. If they don’t back off on their missile testing, then we’ll be forced to respond accordingly.” He closed the freezer, his shoulders tight. “I have a feeling my warning won’t scare them off.”

She tensed. “What happens if it doesn’t?”

“Then the United Nations will get involved.” He lifted his head. “And that possible contract with Baker might get a lot more necessary.”

“I hope it doesn’t,” she said, biting her lip. She wanted the deal, yes, but not at the cost of others’ lives, and not at the expense of Leo’s country, which he so clearly loved.

“Me, too.”

He silently opened up the fridge, pulling out a jar of cherries. She blinked rapidly, because the booze had hit, and things looked a little fuzzy, and it almost looked like he held two jars instead of one. “So, what’s the secret ingredient?”

“Remember our date at Serendipity?” he asked, ignoring her question.

She pursed her lips, remembering how handsome he’d looked across the table that night, staring at her as if she were the most important person in the world to him. No one had ever looked at her like that again. “We shared a ridiculously huge sundae, and drank sodas, and stayed until the shop closed and they kicked us out.”

Every once in a while, she sat outside the restaurant.

Relived the moment.

It was pathetic.

“Yep. One thing that was on that sundae?” He picked up another jar. “These.”

She squinted at the jar. “Nuts?”

“Not just any nuts.” He grinned, looking far too excited about
nuts
. “The same exact ones. I have them shipped to me once a year so I never run out.”

A smile played on her lips. “Seriously?”

“Yep.” He wiggled them under her nose. “
This
is one of my secret ingredients.”

She licked her lips, watching him pour hot fudge on both their treats. “There’s two?”

“Yeah,” he said simply.

“Why go through all that trouble for some nuts?”

He side-eyed her. “Honestly? Because every time I put them on a sundae, it takes me back to that date, and I smile.”

He kept saying things like that.

Sweet things that made her want to believe he actually meant them.

It was
dangerous
.

He handed her the sundae, his gaze locked on her mouth. She nervously took the bowl, her fingers brushing his. Jerking back, she walked over to the table by the electric fireplace in the corner of the room. “So you think your nuts are so good they’re orgasmic?”

He choked on a laugh. “Uh…”

“God.” She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t stop the smile that crept into place. “You’re such a dude.”

“What man in all of the world, in all of history, would not pause at that question?” he asked, grinning as he came around the corner of the counter. “And, yes, my nuts are
that
good.”

“Well, then…” She pursed her lips and lifted the spoon. Holding it out to him, she laughed as she said, “To your delicious nuts.”

“To my nuts,” he echoed, laughing and tapping his own spoon to hers as he sat across from her. The drinks in the car had hit her pretty hard, and the world was spinning a little bit. Or maybe that was from the force of his laugh.

Around him, it was hard to tell.

She put the spoon in her mouth, licking it clean. Closing her eyes, she sucked on it, a small moan escaping her. “Oh my God.”

“You found the other secret ingredient,” he said, his tone deep.

She nodded enthusiastically, lifting her lashes. “What kind of hot fudge
is
this?”

“Salted caramel dark chocolate nut fudge.” He leaned back in his chair, looking far too sexily casual in the face of her delight. “It’s my own recipe.”

“Seriously?” She dug her spoon in again, shaking her head. “You missed your calling.”

He shifted closer. “Meaning?”

“You should be selling this stuff, with this ice cream, and your fantastic nuts.” She sucked on the tip of the spoon again. “It’s like crack.”

He stared at her mouth for a beat, his silence filling the air with sexual tension. When he finally spoke, it was a relief. “My mother owned this shop, once upon a time, so I guess you could say it’s in my blood.”

She froze. “She did?”

“Yes. That’s why I work here occasionally.” He scooped up more ice cream, savoring it with a sigh. “It makes me feel closer to her, somehow.”

Well, crap.
He had to go say something so sensitive, so freaking perfect, that it blew everything she thought she knew about him out of the water. A man who missed his mother like that couldn’t be all that bad. “How old were you when she died?”

“Twelve.” He ate another bite of ice cream, but she could see he was in another place and another time—more than likely with his mother at his side. He smiled, but it was as sad as his eyes. “She was a good woman. A great queen. An even better mother.”

Reaching out, she squeezed his hand, locking eyes with him. He inhaled deeply, holding it in as he held on to her hand. And, though she didn’t want to admit it, there was no denying the fact that she didn’t want him to let go. “I bet she was.”

“How old were you?” he asked softly.

“Six. I don’t really remember her.” She swallowed, reluctantly taking her hand back. She missed his touch immediately—which was a bad,
bad
thing. “She was shot on the subway on her way home.”

They hadn’t spoken about this in New York. They’d been too busy falling in love.

“I’m so sorry.” He set his spoon down. “That’s awful.”

“Yeah,” she said. “Death always is.”

He leaned in and brushed a smear of chocolate off her mouth, and she froze, heart racing at the speed of light. When he spoke, his voice was hypnotic. “We’ve both lost too much, Alicia. Being here with you reminds me of what we had, all those years ago. And I’m going to be honest and admit that I don’t want to lose you again.”

She touched her lip where he had, fear pulsing through her veins instead of blood. She wanted to pull him closer, but was also well aware that she had to do the opposite, for the sake of her own heart. A heart she wouldn’t let him break twice. “Leo, I—”

His phone rang, cutting her off, and she reclined in her seat, letting out a short breath of air. The interruption was a relief, because she had no idea what she’d been about to say…but it probably would have been something she would regret afterward.

Something impulsively romantic.

He glanced at the screen, frowning. “It’s my father. I have to take this. Do you mind?”

She shook her head. “Of course not.”

“Thank you,” he said. Then he swiped his finger on the phone, lifting it to his ear. “Dad? Are you okay?” Silence, and then: “I will. Did you get some rest before you got the call?”

His father spoke in reply, and she swore she heard her name.

She leaned in closer.

“Good.” After another short pause where his father spoke, his voice too low for her to make out, Leo rolled his eyes. “Over my dead body. Bye, Dad.” He hung up and glanced at Alicia. She shoved ice cream in her mouth, trying her best to look as if she hadn’t been trying to listen in. “My father isn’t able to join us for dinner after all.”

She paused, blinking at him. “Was he supposed to?”

“Yes. I just hadn’t asked you yet.”

“Why not?” she asked, cocking her head.

“Because I figured you’d tell me no.”

She pressed her lips together and lowered her head, playing with her mostly eaten ice cream because it was easier than looking at him. He was so handsome that sometimes it hurt—like gazing directly at the sun. “You’re probably right.”

“Can we just—?” he started.

“I told you, I don’t do second chances,” she said flatly, avoiding his gaze. If she looked at him, she might waver. And if she wavered, he’d end up hurting her again.

He caught her chin and didn’t let go. “I’m not asking for a second chance. Because we’re adults now, different from the kids we were back then. I’m asking for a
new
chance, as the people we are now.”

She remained silent, watching him.

What he said made perfect sense, and that’s what terrified her.

“All I’m asking for is an opportunity to prove you can trust the man I am now, even though the boy I was then let you down.” He smiled, running his thumb down the hard line of her jaw. His soft touch made her shiver and sent a warmth through her heart that she couldn’t deny. “I want to show you my country, the way we’d planned, and let you see why I love it as much as I do. I want you to love it, too. And most importantly? I want to be your friend, Alicia. I think we could both use one of those.”

She licked her lips, opening her mouth then shutting it. There were so many reasons she should say no, and so many reasons to tell him to take his offer of friendship and stick it where the sun didn’t shine. But he was watching her with soft blue eyes, and he looked so freaking lonely, so very vulnerable, that instead of saying what she should, she listened to her screaming heart instead.