Tangled Games (Dating Games #5) - T.K. Leigh Page 0,63

that much better.

But that still doesn’t solve my Anderson/Prince Gabriel problem.

Can I really promise my life to a man I barely know just for the brief glimpses I get of Anderson?

What if those brief glimpses become fewer and fewer until Prince Gabriel swallows him up entirely?

Is Prince Gabriel a man I want to be with?

I wish I knew how to answer that.

Chapter Twenty

Anderson

“If you ask me, it was kind of a dick move,” Esme snips out, not holding back at all. I didn’t expect her to. She never does.

“What choice did I have?” I throw up my hands as I sit in the director’s office of a local children’s home where we’ll play with some of the kids and read them a story, all to promote literacy and bring attention to the need for more families to open their homes to foster children, a cause Esme champions regularly. “Grandmother fell ill. Someone had to meet the Queen of England.”

“It didn’t have to be you,” she argues, arms crossed.

“You know damn well it did, Esme. When the Queen of England comes, either the queen mother or the highest-ranking member of the royal family must go. Since Father was out of town—”

“It wouldn’t surprise me if she wasn’t sick at all and only canceled to keep you from going to Nora’s appointment.”

I wave her off, not voicing that I had the same concerns. “It wasn’t just the doctor’s appointment. That was merely the straw that broke the camel’s back, so to speak.” I pull my lips between my teeth, resting my forearms on my legs as the previous night’s conversation plays on repeat, like it has all morning. “She claims she doesn’t even know who I am,” I manage to say through the lump in my throat.

“And rightly so,” Esme agrees.

I furrow my brow, darting my eyes toward her. “What do you mean?”

She smooths a few strands of her golden blonde hair behind her ear, then saunters toward me. Always one to shun expectations and protocol, she’s dressed in a sleeveless blouse tucked into a pair of skinny jeans that make her long legs appear even longer. And as a big middle finger to the establishment, she wears a pair of wedge sandals with her toes peeking through — two big no-nos.

Then there’s me, the picture of conformity — crisp suit, cleanly shaven face, tie that’s begun to feel more like a noose than an accessory.

“Since the news of your engagement broke, she’s been immersed in this world she’s had absolutely no previous experience with. She’s expected to jump right in, feet first, and become a princess, wife, and royal in mere weeks? Remember how you felt when you were pulled out of school, sent to London, and forced to learn a new way of life almost overnight?”

I lower my head, nodding slowly.

“Well, for Nora, it’s even harder. At least we had some exposure to all of this first. She never has. When we were ripped from our world, what was the one thing we had that helped us through it all?”

“Each other,” I admit, looking around the room. The linoleum floor is cracked, and some of the tiles in the ceiling show signs of water damage. Books fill the shelves lining the far wall, many of their bindings worn. It’s a rude awakening to visit places like this. Makes me even more grateful for all the opportunities I’ve had.

“Precisely, Anders.” She sits on the couch beside me, taking my hands in hers. “We had each other. With everything else in our world turned upside down, we were able to find comfort and stability in the idea that we were still the same people we were back in the country, riding horses and getting covered in mud. But Nora…” She shakes her head. “She boarded that plane expecting to start a life with Anderson North, but instead came face-to-face with Prince Gabriel of Belmont.”

“We’re the same person,” I argue.

She smiles sweetly, resting her hand on my bicep. “No, you’re not. You may think you are, but Anderson immediately turns into Crown Prince Gabriel when the cameras are rolling or there’s a crowd. You can deny it all you want, but in your heart, you know it’s true. The second you’re back in this country, you’re different. It’s not a bad different,” she adds quickly. “I adore you, and that includes all the different versions of you. Nora’s lucky to know the side of you most people don’t get to see. As am