The Prince's Bride (Modern Fairytales) Page 10

  Something hit him in his chest, so hard that for a moment he thought he’d been shot. But there was no blood on his shirt. Slowly, he reached out, cupped her cheek, and said, “You’re the most beautiful person, inside and out, that I’ve ever known, Alicia Forkes.”

  Her cheeks flushed, and she lowered her lids, hiding her soft eyes from him, but not before he saw something flash across them. Something that looked a lot like fear, which didn’t make any sense. She bit down on her lip and shifted away from him slightly. She still smiled at him, but it looked forced. “Ready to go have some fun?” she asked.

  “It wasn’t what I planned, but those kids…”

  She nodded. “Those kids.”

  Without another word, he opened the car and got out. She slid out behind him, and the teacher closest to them froze, jaw hanging, and quickly curtsied. “Your Highness.”

  He inclined his head. “Hello, Miss…?”

  “Grant. Ms. Grant.” She curtsied again, her gaze wandering toward Alicia with curiosity. “I hope you were aware of our plans to be here—?”

  “Of course,” he said, glancing quickly at Alicia, not quite sure how to introduce her. “This is a business consultant from America, Alicia. Alicia, Ms. Grant.”

  Alicia stiffened, but smiled. “Lovely to meet you.”

  The other woman inclined her head with respect. “Likewise, miss.”

  “We saw the children having fun and simply couldn’t resist stopping.” He gestured back to the car. “We have our own food, of course.”

  Alicia blinked at him.

  “Of course.” Then Ms. Grant gestured for the children to come closer. “Children, line up! The prince is here.”

  They all fell into perfect rows, looking far too serious for such a young age, standing at attention like little soldiers. All but one of them, that was. He knelt down in front of the child, a little girl with long blonde hair. It wasn’t a far stretch of the imagination to picture Alicia as this child—restless, adorable, and spunky.

  “What’s your name?” he asked her, smiling.

  “Fiona,” she answered with a slight lisp, dipping down into a clumsy curtsy. “Your Highness.”

  “Perfect curtsy,” he said, standing and bowing to her.

  She smiled. “Perfect bow, too, Your Highness.”

  Alicia made a strangled sound and tucked her hair behind her ears. “Indeed.”

  “Are you having fun?” he asked, grabbing her tiny hands and squeezing them, smiling at the rest of the children.

  “We are,” Fiona said.

  “Do you like roses?”

  The little girl nodded enthusiastically.

  Leo snatched two pink ones off of the nearest bush. “A pretty rose for a pretty lady,” he said, offering one to the child. Then, he turned to Alicia, holding out the second bloom. “And for another pretty lady.”

  She licked her lips, reaching out with an unsteady hand to take the flower. When her fingers brushed his, for the first time ever, she didn’t immediately recoil. If anything, her touch lingered. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  He smiled, bowing. “You’re welcome.”

  The teachers hurried the children back to the paths, and Alicia stood beside him, clutching her rose and staring at him with an almost resigned expression. She watched him with a warmth in her eyes that made him think maybe, just maybe, she didn’t hate him after all. “You look like you have something to say.”

  She nodded once, opening her mouth then closing it. She opened it again, shook her head, and then said, “You continue to surprise me is all, and I’m not sure how I feel about that.”

  “You know what I think it means?” he asked softly, cupping her cheek and stepping into her personal space, but not so close as to spook her.

  Or to kiss her. Definitely not that.

  She sucked in a deep breath, meeting his eyes. “What?”

  “Maybe the world isn’t so black and white after all.”

  After a moment of silence, she tightened her grip on her pink rose, pressed her mouth into a tight line, and nodded. “Maybe it’s not.”

  And that, ladies and gentlemen?

  Was a win.

  Chapter Twelve

  Three days later, the town car stopped in front of a huge, domed structure, and Alicia sucked in a deep breath as she tried to figure out where he was taking her this time. For the past couple of days, Leo had been taking her all over his country. They’d gone to see a ballet, which had made her ache to get back on stage, and then to a mountain to watch the sun set, where she’d felt like she was literally on top of the world again.

  And through it all, Leo was a perfect gentleman, a great man, an even greater prince, and he was killing her with his kindness. The thing was, she could absolutely see he was different from the boy he’d once been. But she was a changed woman, too.

  One who didn’t want to get hurt again.

  Every time he took her somewhere, or spent time with her, or made her laugh, he got closer to creeping back into her heart. Her nerves were already wrecked from being in a car with him yet again, and he kept telling her funny jokes that made her laugh.

  Maybe a little bit too enthusiastically?

  “And then the queen said, ‘Honestly, Henry. I would have thought a king would be far too mature for pants covered in ducks in the bathtub.”

  “Oh my God.” She laughed, covering her mouth. “Were they wearing shower caps?”

  “Pink ones,” he said, grinning.

  “Oh, dear.”

  “And he had a matching button-up shirt.”

  She lost it, laughing harder than she could remember laughing. The story of the time his father had been caught unawares by the queen had been bothering her last night, so she finally asked for the rest of it—and was quite happy to have done so. “What did he say?”

  “He straightened his spine and said, ‘Maybe you’ve been married to the wrong type of king, then, Your Majesty.’”

  Shaking her head, she chuckled, glancing out the window. “I can totally picture him saying that, too.” Being with him was just like that last time—fun, a rollercoaster ride up to the top of the hill. But the thing about going up?

  You inevitably had to come back down.

  If she fell for him like the stupid girl she’d once been, what good would come of it? He’d blown into her life once, stolen her heart, and then left just as abruptly. And he would do it again, if given the opportunity.

  She had no doubt of that.

  He opened the car door and stood, reaching a hand down to help her out. The second she was upright, she pulled free and wiped her hands on her thighs, her fingers still tingling where he’d touched her. It was ridiculous how much of an effect his skin had on hers. “Where are we?”

  “The Royal Arena.”

  She stared up at the building. They were at the back door, so there was no hint as to what was inside. “What are we doing?”

  “Come with me, and you’ll find out.” He started for the door, and she followed him closely, her heart racing with excitement at this newest adventure, no matter how many times she reminded herself not to fall into his trap again. “Are you still a size six shoe?”

  She stopped in her tracks. “You remember my shoe size?”

  “I remember everything you ever told me,” he said softly. Hesitantly, he entwined his fingers with hers and offered her a small smile. “Size six?”

  Holding onto him felt good.

  Too good.

  Swallowing hard, she stared at him, unsure what to say. So instead, she nodded wordlessly, and let him lead her into the building. The second they were inside, she froze.

  There was a skating rink ahead, and there were decorated Christmas trees all over it, even though it was summertime and quite hot outside. Christmas music played over the speakers, and two pairs of ice skates sat by the door in boxes.

  She stood there, unable to move, and just…

  Stared.

  Swallowing hard, she turned to him
and said, “Leo…”

  “I still remember you wearing those ballerina tights, with your cheeks flushed from the cold and your laughter, but you just kept skating anyway.” He reached out slowly with his free hand and tucked her hair behind her ear, letting his fingers trail down her neck and over her shoulder. “You were so alive. So free. I envied that. And I just had to have a taste of that freedom for myself, through you.”

  She swallowed a moan, forcing herself to look away before she did something stupid like throw her arms around him and never let go. Because, God, she wanted to. But she wouldn’t. Couldn’t. “I can’t believe you did all this for me.”

  “Every time I hear classical music, it brings me back to that time I saw you on that stage, dancing your heart out. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.” He tightened his grip on her fingers and cupped her cheek with his other hand. “Do you still dance, my lady?”

  She shook her head, the endearment not annoying her like it used to. Now, it sent a bolt of warmth shooting straight to her heart. “No.”

  “Why did you stop? What happened?”

  Everything happened.

  She’d told him in those letters exactly what happened to her. The other times he pretended not to know something, she rolled her eyes and moved on. But this time…maybe it was the trip down memory lane, or maybe it was the way he kept looking at her, all sadness and bright blue eyes, she finally considered the possibility that he hadn’t left her standing alone in that airport after all.

  That he was as innocent as she was in this whole thing.

  And that terrified her.

  Knowing he had hurt her, and would do so again, was the only thing that kept her heart safe from him. The only thing that reminded her to keep her distance.

  If she lost that…

  She lost everything.

  “He died,” she said flatly. “My father died. When you don’t have a parent, you lose money for dance classes, and then you lose your home, and everything you hold dear. It’s just…gone. You’re alone, and no one cares anymore.”

  Not even you.

  He stared at her; his hard jaw was set, but his eyes were haunted. “How old were you when he died, Alicia?”

  Young. Too young. “Sixteen.”

  “But that was—” He reached out and covered her hand. “That was the year after we met.”

  “Six months, actually.” She swallowed hard and avoided his soft stare. It was too much. “I wrote you and told you about it.”

  “I didn’t get the letter. I swear on my crown, I didn’t get it.”

  She pulled free, because she wanted to believe him, but to believe him was to let him back in, and if she did that, she was scared of what he’d find. “Whatever. It was years ago. It’s ancient history.”

  “No.” He grabbed her chin and lifted her face to his. Her heart tried to pound a path right out of her chest and into his hands. “It’s not. You needed me, and I wasn’t there, and it’s never going to be okay. I should have written to you like I said I would.”

  She swallowed, because tears were burning the back of her eyelids, and that was unacceptable. Girls like her didn’t cry. Her eyes burned and her throat ached, and even though it had been years since she last felt a tear roll down her cheek, she recognized the signs well enough.

  If she opened her mouth, a sob would come out, and she’d make a fool of herself. And then she’d be in his arms, and he’d be holding her, and by the time the tears dried, she’d be putty in his hands—putty he’d destroy. Because no matter how much she might like him, or hope to make something real out of this, one thing just wasn’t going to change. She wasn’t good enough for a prince, and there was just no escaping that.

  Which was why he’d ruin her…

  If she let him.

  “Where did you go after he died? Your grandmother?”

  For some reason, him bringing up a woman she’d never met took away the looming tears. If she focused on her, on people who weren’t her beloved father, maybe she could pull herself together. “She’s been dead as long as I can remember, so definitely not.”

  “Then where—?”

  She shook her head and pulled free of his touch. “It doesn’t matter, does it? I went somewhere, and then I went somewhere else, and then to another place, and another. Then that place, all those places, led me to here. With you. Right now. And that’s all you need to know.”

  “Alicia—” He stared down at her, as if trying to read all her thoughts, and all her dirty little secrets, but the thing was…they weren’t his to discover. Not if she didn’t want him to. He must’ve seen something in her eyes that told him as much, because he broke off and turned to his guard. “Please leave us, and don’t come back in until I call for you.”

  She recognized one as the man who’d ridden in the car with her the day she’d been abducted. He saluted and said, “Very well, Your Highness.”

  The man motioned for his fellow guards to follow him out. The second the door closed behind them, Leo relaxed visibly. He still stood ramrod straight, but it was a difference in the way he held his face, and his hands.

  Less as if he were a statue that would crack if he moved.

  When he spun back on her and opened his mouth, she cut him off before he could speak. “I dare you to take off your suit jacket.”

  He frowned and glanced down at the item in question, looking adorably perplexed at her dare. “I don’t have a proper dress shirt on underneath. If someone saw me—”

  “What are you wearing underneath?” she asked, reaching out and tugging on the stiff lapel. “A Hello Kitty shirt? Disney Princesses? Transformers? An American flag?”

  He frowned. “Alicia.”

  “Take it off.” She crossed her arms. “I dare you.”

  “I—” Slowly, he gripped the first button, glancing over his shoulder at the door where the men had exited. When he turned back to her, there was a devilish light burning in is eyes. “You really want to see what I’m wearing under this?”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “I really, really do.”

  She was really hoping for a Princess Jasmine shirt.

  Anything else would be a disappointment.

  “Fine.” He undid the first button then stopped. “But what are you going to take off, in return?”

  A small laugh escaped her, and she covered her mouth. “Seriously?”

  “Well, I think it’s only fair.” He gave her a long, lingering once-over. One that left her tingling in places she had no right tingling. Not for him. “Gender equality and all that. From what I hear, you’re big on being treated fairly.”

  She huffed. “Do you blame me?”

  “Not at all,” he said quickly, grinning lopsidedly. “It’s something I’m working on in my office every day. Trying to get Randovia up to speed with America.”

  Taken aback, she blinked because she had no clue he cared about that at all. Between that sexy grin, and his admission, he just got, like, a million times hotter. Which put him on par with the sun, basically. “You are?”

  “Yes.” He smirked. “So what’s it going be? What’s coming off?”

  “My shoes?” she asked hopefully.

  He rolled his eyes and let out a snort. “No dice. The coat stays on.”

  She laughed nervously, her heart racing with…with…excitement. This version of Leo, the rebellious and playful one, never failed to remind her of the boy he’d once been, who was a lot more fun than the stiff, pretentious man she’d thought he’d been when he snatched her off the streets. A lot more dangerous, too. “Fine. I’ll take mine off, too.”

  That cocky brow of his shot up, and he stared at her loose shirt. “All right.”

  “You were awfully quick to accept that offer.”

  “I know a good deal when I see one,” he said offhandedly. “On three?”

  She nodded once, biting down on her tongue while trying not to grin, because she had something up her sleeve…literally. “On three.”

 
“One.” He undid another button, and she gripped the hem of her shirt. “Two.” Another button, and she fisted the shirt she’d thrown on this morning. “Three.” He shrugged off his jacket, and she tore her shirt over her head. He sucked in a breath and dropped the gray jacket as if it meant nothing to him. “Jesus.”

  She let go of her sweater, laughing and glancing down at the skin-tight camisole she wore underneath. “I never said I didn’t have another shirt underneath.”

  “I was well aware of the fact that you did,” he said, staring at her as if he’d like nothing more than to pull her into his arms and convince her to remove this shirt, too. She pressed a nervous hand to her stomach. “If that even qualifies as a shirt, that is.”

  She glanced down, heart racing, at her see-through camisole tank top. She’d forgotten about that, and her sheer black bra clearly showed. “Of course it is.” Then she gestured toward his plain white, short-sleeved, button-up shirt, hoping to take the attention off her breasts. “And what’s so wrong with that shirt?”

  “There’s no royal crest, and it’s short-sleeved,” he said matter-of-factly, staring at her as if she’d lost her mind. “I have to wear long sleeves in public.”

  “Even in summer?”

  “Yes.” He undid the top button of his dress shirt. “And it has to be buttoned up, too.” Watching her closely, he undid the second button, revealing a light dusting of dark chest hair. “It’s very important.” And then the third button came undone.

  She whistled through her teeth, trying her best not to drool, but probably failing miserably, because God, he looked good enough to eat. “Rebel.”

  “For you.” He undid the last button, leaving his shirt hanging open in a casual manner. “I can try to be.” He grabbed the hem. “I was, once.” He paused, staring at her mouth. Something told her he didn’t even realize he did it—but that didn’t make her reaction any less powerful. “Okay, twice.”

  She licked her lips, her eyes on his rock-hard pecs. Under those were six perfectly defined and toned abs. It took all her control not to reach out and touch them, especially since he wouldn’t mind if she did. In fact, he’d probably like it. “Twice?”