I told Xander I wanted to hear about his life, and it wouldn’t scare me, I meant it. He can’t say anything that would make me run, not after the way he made me feel last night. No man has ever made me feel the feelings that Xander has in two days.
And the fact that I chose these feelings over my possible future career and independence down the line is terrifying.
But don’t I deserve to experience romance like this? To be with someone who is endlessly fascinating to me? To not worry about a future that might not even happen? To receive kisses that make me melt with desire? To laugh with someone? To gaze up at the stars with a man and talk into the wee hours of the morning because I don’t want the conversation to end?
And damn it, don’t I deserve to have sex with something other than a flailing cod?
I do deserve it, I think, my fear being shoved aside by something new inside of me. I want to live for today. Tomorrow night. The nights after that, for the time being.
Defiance is lit inside of me. I’m going to do it. I’m living in the now.
With Xander Wales.
A wry smile passes over my lips. Lord, I am stubborn.
And this seems like the best possible time to be so.
* * *
The door from the front of the shop to the work area swings open with such force, I nearly drop my toothbrush. It’s a little after eight o’clock in the morning, the shop has just opened, and I’m creating wood texture on a frame biscuit I’m working on.
I look up at Zoe, who is staring at me with wide eyes.
“Are you all right, Zoe?” I ask, concerned.
“You have a customer who wants a special order!” she shouts at me.
I furrow my brow. “Okay, that’s fine, but why are you shouting it?”
“Oh, sorry, but oh my God! Oh my God! Poppy! It’s the Prince of Wales!”
My heart nearly explodes inside my chest. I feel my cheeks grow hot. Xander? Xander came out in public to see me? He said he didn’t want to see me in public because of all the baggage that would come with it.
So why on earth is he here?
“What?” I gasp, dropping my toothbrush. “Prince Alexander?”
“Yes!” Zoe cries, bobbing her head up and down. “He’s wearing joggers and a hoodie and a cap, but it’s him. And his security people are with him, and people are taking pictures because you know … oh, God, he’s utterly gorgeous in person, Poppy! You won’t believe it. The telly doesn’t do him justice! But he said he wanted to do a custom cake order.”
I rise from my stool, my legs wobbling as I do. “I have to wash my hands. Please tell His Royal Highness that I will be able to assist him with his order in a few minutes.”
“Okay,” she says, nodding. “Lord, I wish I could snap a picture! My friends won’t believe it!”
Then she pushes the door open and disappears to the shopfront side.
I move over to the washing area and turn on the tap, my mind racing the entire time. What is he doing here? Why would he take this risk? I mean, to the rest of the world, it simply looks like he’s ordering a cake or biscuits. But still. He’s come out of his way—and dragged out his security detail—merely to see me.
I nearly squeal out loud as that sinks in.
I scrub my hands, turn off the tap, and dry them. I scoop up an order pad and a pencil, take a breath to calm my heart, and push the door open to the shopfront.
And standing at the custom order counter, oblivious to the stares and cameras aimed at him, is Xander.
Excitement sweeps through me the second I lay eyes on him. I have goosebumps. My legs feel like jelly as I head towards him.
As I move closer, he glances up. His facial expression remains neutral, but his eyes light up at the sight of me.
It takes everything I have not to smile at him.
I reach the counter and stand across from. “Good morning, Your Royal Highness,” I say smoothly. “How may I help you this morning?”
I nearly laugh out loud as his brow furrows. If we were alone, I swear he’d be scowling. I can see how much he hates when I address him with a royal greeting.