Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
“No.”
“You weren’t breathing,” he says with all due horror. I reach up to touch my forehead to locate the exact spot of all the pain. But he catches my fingers and says, “You’ve got a bad gash there that’s bleeding. Best not to touch it.”
“Take this.” The king steps forward and offers a handkerchief. He gives me a curt nod, like Good work for not dying and making things even more awkward or whatever.
Alistair holds the neatly folded-up cloth to my temple. “Lilah, did you hear me? You weren’t breathing when I pulled you out of that pool. Do you understand?”
“You mean I was dead? I actually died?” Ouch. Frowning is a bad idea.
He just nods.
“Huh.”
“One moment,” says the king, sounding astonished. “You almost die and that’s all you’ve got to say regarding the matter? ‘Huh’?”
“It wasn’t completely unexpected.” Lady Helena sighs. “But that’s a long story and none of your business.”
The two bodyguards standing beside the king appear just as mystified by this statement as the man himself. Not that anyone is in a mood to explain. Weirding out royalty could be seen as an accomplishment. It wasn’t on my original wish list, but I don’t hate the addition.
“I am not officially here,” the king announces with his usual stern expression back in place. “It’s best if I leave before emergency services arrive. Alistair...”
“You should go,” answers his son without hesitation.
Lady Helena wiggles her fingers at him in farewell.
Dougal grunts and gives him a sour look.
Without further ado, the king and his retinue leave the scene. It sort of seemed as if he wanted to say more. To have more time with his firstborn child. But then, he’s had forty years to say something.
“I can’t believe it. I’m alive.” The sense of relief is staggering. How the predictions have all come true and I am still here. Amazing.
Alistair just nods.
“A seagull dive-bombed me,” I add in a harsh whisper. My throat still feels like it has been scraped raw. I do not recommend drowning. Not at all.
“What did you say?” asks Alistair.
“A seagull. I fell. Hit my head.”
“A seagull attacked you?” His brows rise to all new heights at the news. “So, you lost your footing and hit your head falling into the pool? Is that what you mean?”
I nod and wince. Neither talking nor moving are great. “Willow was right.”
“Yeah. Guess she was. You weren’t breathing...didn’t have a pulse. You actually died.” He carefully dabs my forehead with the handkerchief. “No more of this shit, Leannan. I love you, and thinking you were gone took about a decade off my life.”
“Wh-what did you say?”
“You heard me.”
I am not going to cry. My eyes are just glitching or something. It’s been a really big morning.
“Och.” He presses a gentle kiss to the tip of my wet nose. “I’ve been following your fine ass around town for a week now. How could you not have suspected?”
“I love you too.”
“Lucky for me,” he says with a smile.
Off in the distance, the sound of an ambulance draws closer.
Lady Helena also sniffles somewhere nearby. “Oh, that was so beautiful. You two really are the cutest.” Then she gasps. “You know what I just thought of? We could have a double wedding! Isn’t that a great idea?”
EPILOGUE
“We could always try swimming to the mainland.” Alistair rubs sunscreen onto my back. He’s been doing it for the past half an hour or so. No idea what’s taking him so long. But there’s no way I am complaining. Any day with his hands on me is a great day.
“Aren’t there meant to be sharks out there?” I ask, inspecting the stretch of blue over the top of my sunglasses.
Another high-pitched scream of delight followed by a feminine giggle comes from inside the house.
“Yes,” he says with a wince. “But I am willing to take the risk if you are.”
“Hmm.” I take a sip of my mojito. “I could always ask Gael to send me the mermaid costume from his friend who owns the bar. Do you think that would help?”
“Probably not.” He leans down and busses the lobe of my ear with his nose. “You’re too tasty to let the sharks have you. I think I’ll keep you to myself.”
“A wise choice.”
It was Lady Helena’s idea for us to accompany her and her new husband on this island getaway. Alistair is making up for years of misunderstanding and putting distance between him and his mom by having quality time with her now. Neither of us understood quite how small the private island in question was, however. There’s a luxury beach hut with two bedrooms and bathrooms and a living space, a lush garden that wraps around it full of palms and plumeria, and a little stretch of white sand. It is absolutely beautiful and sits off the coast of Brazil. But it also leaves us with absolutely no chance of escaping the newlyweds.