the record. Nothing about you is average, Christian.”
“Thanks.”
Mallory took another slow sip. This time, it was her eyes that were shadowed as she looked at him over the rim of the glass. And this time, that look was absolutely flirtatious and no longer resisting out of an overabundance of caution. “So you’re above average and I’m enchanting. Where does that leave us?”
That was an invitation Christian didn’t want to sidestep. But he needed to seize this moment of privacy for a different reason, before the evening progressed to a different sort of intimacy.
“Ah. The reason I asked not to be disturbed.” He shoved back the chair and went to the sideboard where he’d stashed a box before dinner. Slid it into his pants pocket. Then he held out his hand.
It was gratifying how she interlaced their fingers so willingly. How she trusted him. The edge of the veranda was delineated by a row of vaulted stone arches, each with a low railing. This side of the palace was built into the hillside. It made for an immediate and dramatic drop. The tops of pine trees poked through the rails by their legs.
A full moon illuminated the valley, the stark shadows of the line of sharply angled peaks like a natural wall, but for giants. Christian leaned back against the rough arch. This speech had been festering in him for months, waiting for the right moment to erupt. If he didn’t think she’d laugh him off, he’d drop to one knee.
Because what had happened to her—being shot in his country—was inexcusable. It had kept him up many a night. It knotted his stomach every time he thought about it. And when he’d seen the scars on her abdomen, Christian had known that he had to stop waiting for the right time.
There was no right time, no right way, to try to atone for her almost being killed.
“I need to apologize to you. I’m not sure if anyone else did it formally. Regardless, I need to do it myself.”
Her nose crinkled. “For what?”
“I’m tendering my apologies that you were treated so badly by one of my own countrymen. That you were shot on the steps of my Parliament house, within steps of the king and the rest of us. In what should’ve been the safest spot, the safest moment of the year. I’m sorry you were attacked. Wounded. That you suffered physically as you healed. That you suffered by losing your job because of it. That the whole experience may still haunt you. I know it sure as hell haunts me.”
Hell.
He hadn’t planned on rambling on for quite so long.
But if that lunatic who shot her was suddenly dropped in front of him?
Christian would, without hesitation, pitch him over into the darkness and take joy in his screams.
…
That was the most heartfelt speech she’d ever received. Sure, it was about her near-death and a period of her life she’d like to forget.
But it also touched Mallory deeply.
Nobody else had apologized. Not that she needed them to, for it wasn’t anyone’s fault but the gunman. And possibly any crazed accomplices.
While she didn’t need it, Mallory did appreciate it. Greatly.
The thoughtfulness of it had her blinking back tears. But the speech also showed Christian’s extraordinary commitment to and responsibility for his people. Here she was, trying to forget his title and treat him like just a man.
Which was foolish.
He was so much more than an average man.
He carried the weight of the entire country on his shoulders—and he wasn’t even king yet. It would be so easy for him to accede to Parliament’s request and take the throne. So easy to ignore the father who’d been hiding from him. So easy to be a shallow figurehead, living a privileged, wealthy life of nothing but fun.
Christian didn’t take the easy way out. Christian, rather, did the right thing. And in this more and more self-centered, instant-gratification world, that was truly remarkable.
Now he was choosing to take time for her. On this all-important trip, all about his father, he’d singled her out to proffer an apology.
Mind. Blown.
“Thank you.” She swiped under both of her eyes. “That sounds so small and insignificant after your beautiful words. But I mean it from the bottom of my heart.”
“I want you to not hold the actions of a violent lunatic against the rest of the country.”
“Oh, Christian, I don’t.”
“Well, I’m not a man who leaves anything to chance.” He pulled a blue velvet box out of his pocket. “This is