Tangled Games (Dating Games #5) - T.K. Leigh Page 0,66

to do anything you want.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

“It’s not optimal, but like everyone else, all you can do is try to make the best out of the hand you’ve been dealt. Although saying it like that makes me seem ungrateful. I’m not. I appreciate having a platform to bring attention to causes I believe in. Just like you will. But everything in life comes at a price. You have to decide what yours is.” She gives me a knowing look.

“He told you about our…disagreement, didn’t he?”

“He did.”

“And you think I overreacted,” I say, filling in the blanks.

“Actually, I don’t. This life can sweep you up in its current until you can no longer fight the riptide pulling you under. If you don’t fight for yourself, no one else will. So I’m proud of you for fighting for yourself. Trust me. I know this isn’t an optimal situation for any relationship. It will test you.” She reaches across the seat and squeezes my hand. “But if there’s any couple who will persevere, it’s you two. I feel it in my soul.”

She holds my gaze, then breaks away when the SUV comes to a stop. “Here we are.”

Captain Walsh gets out of the SUV and swiftly makes his way to the back passenger door, opening it. Esme places her sunglasses over her eyes, then slides out gracefully. I put my own dark glasses on and join her, a few onlookers pointing and whispering. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who we are. Esme’s supermodel appearance, coupled with the security presence, is a dead giveaway. But I don’t care. I’ll take a group of onlookers pointing and snapping photos over being locked behind the walls of the palace any day.

“This way, ma’am,” Captain Walsh says, leading us toward an outdoor table with the perfect view of the plaza and canals. Men in casual clothes sit at a few nearby tables, drinking coffee or reading a newspaper, but I have no doubt they’re part of the security team. They have the same look as every one of the protection officers I’ve met. Stoic expression. Built physique. Analytical eyes looking everywhere for a possible threat.

I sit beside Esme, noticing all the chairs face the canals instead of each other, encouraging people to take in the beautiful surroundings.

“It reminds me of Paris,” she remarks, placing her sunglasses on the table. I do the same. “This is how many sidewalk cafés are set up there, especially along the Seine.”

“I haven’t been.”

She straightens. “You haven’t?”

“Anderson promised he’d eventually take me.” I shrug. “So we’ll see.”

“Well, if he doesn’t, I will. Everyone needs to experience the City of Lights.” A peaceful expression washes over her, as if the mere thought of Paris reinvigorates her. “Don’t tell anyone, but it’s my favorite place on the planet.”

I smile. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Good,” she replies as a man approaches. Unlike the rest of the waitstaff here, who wear just a white shirt and black pants, he’s dressed in a crisp suit, making me think he’s the owner or manager.

“Your Highness.” He performs a slight bow. “So wonderful to see you again. Would you like your typical order?”

“Yes. Except let’s do a green tea, one with a touch of ginger and peach, if you have one.”

“Of course, ma’am.” After bowing once more, he retreats.

“Don’t worry,” she says in a low voice. “It’s caffeine-free. And the ginger does wonders for any morning sickness. At least that’s what I’m told.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me for a minute…” She pushes back from the table and stands. “I need to go freshen up. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.” I watch as she retreats, a protection officer following, then shift my attention to my surroundings. I inhale the fresh air, feeling like a caged animal that’s finally been reintroduced into her natural habitat.

Since the engagement announcement, I’ve barely spent any time in public. The only times I’ve been allowed to leave the palace, aside from being at Anderson’s estate, have been for pre-wedding planning or on a photo shoot with my publicist. Since the night the paparazzi found Anderson and me at Esme’s “safe house”, as Anderson calls it, we haven’t been seen together once.

Almost like someone doesn’t want us to be seen together. Doesn’t want people to think we’re actually going to be married.

Doing my best to push down the negative thoughts, I turn my attention back to the canals in front of me, marveling at the sheer number of people riding