Lone Prince (Royally Unexpected #7) - Lilian Monroe Page 0,12
huge mountain ridges, their tops obscured by the clouds. This looks like another planet. I took a train to Nord and landed on Mars.
I think of Gerry, and the way he’d throw a blanket over my legs when I spent hours reading on the sofa. Was that really so bad? Did I really feel stifled, or was I just a spoiled little girl who thought she wanted to have it all?
The black castle looms in the distance, its windows yawning yellow with light. I shiver, but not from the cold. The windows are the same color as the Prince’s eyes. Pale amber, like his namesake.
Wolfe.
I wonder if he’s a predator, too. If he sees me as prey. If my time at the castle will be one long hunt, and this was all just a terrible, terrible mistake.
But then I remember the way his eyes drifted to my lips. How his gaze sent warmth spiraling through my core when he let me know he’d undressed me. How for the first time in a long time, I feel alive.
Maybe it’s the after-effects of a near-death experience. It’s what happens when someone is severely hypothermic and comes back to life. You start imagining things that aren’t there. You imagine heat that doesn’t exist. You get confused and your mind plays tricks on you.
That’s what’s happening. My body is responding to delusions.
I turn away from the window, slumping back down on the sofa. The doctor places a bundle of warm clothes on the seat next to me. “Put those on. As soon as you’re strong enough, we’ll move you to the castle. The staff has prepared your room.”
I stare at the clothes, then shift my gaze to the window. Excitement pierces my gut, and I know it’s not from the near-death experience.
This is real. The Prince is here.
And I’m stuck at the palace whether I like it or not.
5
Wolfe
On my computer screen is yet another speech identical to every other royal statement I’ve ever given or heard. I give it a cursory glance, approving it with zero comments. When I close my laptop, I lean back in my chair and glance out the window.
The doctor’s car is making its way from the security lodge to the main castle. I lean closer, watching the vehicle approach.
She’s in there. Rowan Reed. Probably sitting in the back seat, her perky little ass being warmed by heated leather seats. Maybe she’s wrapping her arms around her torso, staring out the window at the white expanse that surrounds us.
The woman who almost died. The red-haired beauty who looks like she’s not quite human. Part fairy, part elf, and one hundred percent delicious. I want to eat her.
I grunt, turning away from the window.
The last thing I should be doing is thinking of her. I’ll stay in my wing of the castle and let her do her design work. I’ll hole myself up in here and wait for October to pass. I might even stay the winter—being here on my own doesn’t sound so bad.
Wasn’t that the plan? Hide away here, far from misplaced sympathy and pity-filled stares? Lick the wounds that never heal, or at the very least, grit my teeth and make it through this month.
My eyes drift to the wall, where a photo of Abby and me hangs. I frown, tightness squeezing my chest.
I’d never met anyone like her. An angel with golden hair and a bright smile. Able to pull me out of my darkest depths and show me the beauty of life. The woman I was supposed to cherish and protect.
The woman I failed.
Bitterness overwhelms me. Resentment tastes like ash. Pushing my chair back, I stand and walk to the wall. I stand in front of the photo, staring at the image of my own face. A huge smile stretches across my lips, and my arm is slung around her slim waist. I don’t even know that person. Abby’s hand rests on my chest, and she tilts her head back, a coquettish smile gracing her red lips.
She always knew how to take a good photo—but then again, it’s hard to take a bad one when you’re beautiful. The media adored her, and she gave them smiles and waves and pictures they could sell newspapers with.
Nord’s darling. Our princess. My future wife.
We’d been back from our first official trip abroad when that photo was taken. I’d just asked her to marry me. Life was bright and hopeful and good.