Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 59701 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59701 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
His dark eyes narrow. “Just one or two?”
“Maybe three.”
He rubs his chin thoughtfully. “Well, I guess that’s better than no thoughts at all, isn’t it?”
“How long are you in town for? I assume you came to spend more time with Sebastian, Ellie, and the others?”
“I came to town to spend time with you,” he says. “Yes, it will be nice to see the others, but you’re the reason I’m here, Aspen.”
I’m not sure what to say.
“What did you think the past few weeks were?” he asks.
“Well, I thought we were being civil with each other because of Ellie.”
His eyes flash hot, his temper simmering just below the surface. “I don’t kiss women simply to be civil for my baby sister’s sake, Aspen. I don’t go out of my way to spend time, to get any bloody moment alone I can, so I can try to get to know them better for her. This has absolutely nothing to do with Ellie.”
“So noted,” I say slowly, watching the frustration move over him. “I’m sorry I assumed.”
“I’m here because staying away from you isn’t a fucking option for me anymore. You’re in my dreams. You’re constantly in my thoughts. I wonder what you’re doing, if you’re okay, if you need anything. I picked up the mobile to tell David to get your number for me a dozen times, but I restrained myself because I wanted to see you and talk to you in person.
“So, yes, I flew back across the ocean to spend time with you, not my family.”
I swallow hard, my pulse thumping as my blood rushes through my ears. I thought I wanted to hear these things two years ago, but I know now that I wasn’t ready for them then.
Am I ready now? Well, if the butterflies in my stomach are to be believed, I’d say yes.
“Can I trust you?” I whisper.
The frustration dims, and regret replaces it. “Yes. And, Aspen, I’m going to say it once again. I deeply regret that I ever lost your trust in the first place. It was never my intent.”
I nod and bite my lip. “Well, welcome back to town. Would you like to stay for dinner? I’m making manicotti, and I have enough for two.”
He laughs and tugs me to him, wraps his arms around me, and gives me the biggest bear hug ever. I didn’t even know that I needed a hug so badly. To be touched and to feel safe in someone’s embrace.
In his arms.
He gently rocks me back and forth and rubs his hands up and down my back.
“I bet you’re a good dancer,” I mumble. “I know we danced once before, but I was too busy hating you to admire your dance moves.”
“I’ve had a lesson or two.”
“Is it required for the royal family to have dancing skills?” I look up into his face, truly curious.
“It’s best if we do, yes. We attend a lot of balls and events where we have to dance. And as much as we hate it, someone is always watching.”
“Do you hate being watched?”
He licks his lips and then kisses my forehead. “Being royal isn’t something we choose. We were born into this. Which means, we don’t choose the media coverage either. It just is. But, yes, it’s my least favorite thing about my job.”
I’d never considered being a prince a vocation. But it makes perfect sense. I know Ellie is intimately involved with several charities and works tirelessly.
“And how much of what is covered in the media is actually true?” I ask.
“Probably five percent,” he replies. “They usually spell my name right.”
I laugh. “If I were you, I’d ignore it.”
“I do. Unless it’s something particularly awful and I can’t avoid it. That hasn’t happened in a while, thank goodness.”
“So, what kind of work do you do for the royal family?” I ask, just as my stomach growls loudly.
“Why don’t you get started on dinner? I’ll tell you everything.”
Chapter 8
~Aspen~
I pop a bite of crusty bread into my mouth and study the sexy man across from me. Now that we’ve settled in after the fright of Callum knocking on my back door, and I have some food in my belly, I’m able to concentrate on the conversation at hand.
Callum’s more interesting than I originally thought.
“So, you work on behalf of wounded veterans, you’re building a special hospital in Edinburgh, and you’re part of the British Olympics committee?”
“Among other things, but those are the big ones,” he confirms and sips the red wine I opened. “This is delicious, by the way. You’re an excellent cook. Where did you learn?”
“My kitchen,” I say with a grin, feeling proud of my culinary skills. “When Greg and I were first married, we were dirt-poor. Young, on our own, and struggling to figure life out. There certainly wasn’t money for eating out. There was barely enough for groceries. I made it a game. Saw what I could make for five dollars.”