Tangled Games (Dating Games #5) - T.K. Leigh Page 0,81
the contrary.
Initially, she had hoped to respond to each and every letter. However, that proved to be a challenge, particularly as the number of letters increased to the point where the staff now has to choose which ones they’ll give her.
“What can I say?” I retort, taking slow steps toward her. “I like looking at you. Especially when you’re in it.”
“In it?” She signs her name, another thing the royal household despises, since they view it as an autograph, which is against the rules. Then she glances over her shoulder. Brilliant blue eyes meet mine as joy radiates from her. Weeks ago, I didn’t think this level of happiness was possible. Instead, I was prepared for her to walk away from this world.
But she hasn’t.
Granted, it hasn’t all been unicorns and rainbows. There are still quite a few people who don’t like the idea of me marrying an American. But we’ve stopped caring what anyone else thinks, which was a huge feat for Nora, since she’s lived most of her life doing everything to live up to her mother’s impossible standards. Of always trying to be perfect in everyone’s eyes. She’s finally realized she’ll never make everyone happy, that there will always be someone critical of something she says, does, or wears.
“In it,” I repeat as I slide into the chair beside her. “Like when you’re so immersed in what you’re doing that you forget there’s a world outside of it all. You’re in it.” I shrug. “It’s something my mother used to say whenever she noticed I was deep in thought.”
She leans toward me and treats me to a kiss that leaves me wanting so much more. “I like it.” She lingers near my mouth for a beat, then pulls back, grabbing the next letter and unfolding it.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?” she asks as she reads a letter I can only assume to be from another young girl, based on the disjointed writing. “I thought you’d be stuck in meetings the rest of the day.”
I extend my legs in front of me and cross them at the ankles as I place my hands behind my head and lean back. “That’s the good thing about being in charge. I can reschedule if I want.”
She gives me a playful look of disapproval before grabbing a fresh piece of stationary to respond to another letter. Just seeing her pile of responses makes my hand ache.
“You’re not in charge yet. Your father isn’t officially going to abdicate until a few months after Little Pickle is born.” She pats her stomach.
While it’s still not obvious she’s pregnant, I’m the lucky bastard who gets to share my life with her. Every night when I fall asleep with Nora in my arms, my hand always seems to find its way to her stomach, a little bump becoming more noticeable, at least to me. I can’t help but marvel that a tiny life we created grows within. I don’t want to rush the process, still enjoying this time with Nora when it’s just us, but I can’t wait to meet “Little Pickle”, as Nora has nicknamed him or her, after her latest craving. One I try to satisfy as much as possible by having her favorite New York treat of pastrami on rye and pickles flown in from Katz.
“Then maybe I’ll head back to the palace and not take you to Paris for the weekend,” I say nonchalantly as I stand, resecuring the button on my suit jacket.
“Paris?” she shrieks, scrambling to her feet, letters falling onto the ground around her. “Did you say you’re taking me to Paris?”
“I was thinking about it. Ya know, give you an immersive experience after all your French lessons. But you’re right,” I continue in a forced serious tone. “I should absolutely go back to work.”
“No!” She flings her arms around me, squeezing me tightly, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Take me to Paris!”
I chuckle, placing my hand on her back and pulling her closer. “If that’s what you wish, my lady.”
She looks at me, smiling brightly. “Oh, it is. It really, really is.”
I lower my mouth to hers, our lips skimming. “Then let’s go to Paris.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Nora
Paris. I’m in fucking Paris. Home of the Notre-Dame Cathedral, the Arc d’ Triumph, and the Eiffel Tower.
Of croissants and eclairs.
Of love.
For as long as I can remember, this has been a dream of mine, but it always seemed so unattainable. Hunter and I had discussed coming here after