bow toward her. “Your Majesty.” Then I face my father, offering him the same sign of respect, before retreating from the conference room.
My father’s private secretary greets me the second I step into the foyer. He bows toward me, then spins, leading me away from the executive wing, as if I’m a visitor, not someone who spent his adolescent years in this building.
Once I’m back in the SUV and the imposing palace walls are far behind me, Creed meets my eyes in the rearview mirror. “How did it go?”
I give him a knowing look as I roll my eyes.
“That good?”
I blow out a laugh. “Worse.”
“No matter what, Nora’s a strong woman. She’ll be okay.”
I nod, leaning my head back against the seat, praying he’s right. Sure, I’d told her what life would be like as my wife, the things she’d have to give up.
But that was before she saw it for herself.
Before she experienced it for herself.
Will she still want this? Want to be under a microscope for the rest of her life?
Like she told me earlier today, she wasn’t thrust into this life like I was. She chose it.
But now that she’s had a taste, will she still choose it?
Will she still choose me?
Chapter Nine
Nora
I rest my forearms against the railing of the spacious balcony off Anderson’s private quarters, inhaling the fresh air, hoping it helps me stay awake when I’d love nothing more than to fall asleep. I doubt I’d be able to sleep, though. My mind is far too preoccupied with what could be going on at Anderson’s meeting with his father.
I doubt they’re talking about the latest rugby match or polo game. Or whatever it is royal people from Europe discuss.
They’re talking about me. About whether I’m good enough for Anderson. Whether I’m good enough to be his wife.
To one day be queen.
Years of being made to feel inadequate by my mother bubble to the surface. I fight to push down her biting reminders that I’m not good enough. That I’m a failure. That I’ll never amount to anything.
I close my eyes, practicing my breathing, inhaling only positive energy while pushing out all the negativity.
Or at least try to.
It doesn’t work as well as it once did.
Right now, there’s a lot of negativity in my life.
A pair of warm lips against my shoulder blade takes me by surprise. In a heartbeat, I no longer need my breathing exercises to relax, my body succumbing to Anderson’s soothing caress.
There was once a time when meditating and yoga were the only way I could find peace and quiet my mind.
Now it’s Anderson.
His touch is all I need to erase my worry. As long as he’s here, everything else is just noise.
Tranquility encompasses me as he runs his hands down my arms, then pulls my body into his, my back to his front. I don’t ask how his meeting went. Don’t want to ruin this moment. Instead, I bask in the love radiating from his embrace as we peer at the breathtaking view of the magnificent gardens leading to jagged cliffs, miles of ocean stretching out below them. It’s reminiscent of Hawaii…if Hawaii had more of a European flair.
I wonder if this is what the French Riviera is like. Or the Amalfi Coast. Two places Anderson said we’d visit at some point.
Will we still have that chance?
Or is everything about to be ripped from under us?
“Want to go for a walk?” Anderson eventually asks.
When I turn around, he drops his hold, and I peer into his eyes for the first time since he arrived home. In that one look, I can tell things didn’t go as he’d hoped.
“Is this a good walk, or a bad walk?”
He smiles and reaches for my hand, our fingers interlocking. “That all depends on you.”
“Okay.” I force a smile. “Let’s go for a walk.”
He leads me back into the bedroom, through the living area, and out into the hallway. Neither of us says a single word as we walk through his estate, any staff we encounter bowing or curtseying as we pass. I’ve only been here a few hours, but knowing I’m constantly being watched already suffocates me.
As if Anderson can sense my discomfort, he quickens his pace to the double doors leading to the gardens. Once we step outside, I inhale a deep breath, the chains seeming to cut off my oxygen falling away. I steal a glance at Anderson, his own expression similar to mine.
“This way,” he murmurs.
Hand in hand, we stroll along