“Ha-ha,” I replied, forcing myself to walk on now unsteady ankles. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
He gave me a half bow. “By all means, go save the day.”
I thought I had escaped, right up until he reached out and gently grabbed my hand, forcing me to turn and look at him. Which promptly made me hold my breath and my heart stopped. “Dante, I talked to you about this . . .”
As if realizing what he had done, he held both of his hands in the air. Like he was surrendering. “I know, I know. I’m not supposed to touch you. I try and remember that I’m not allowed, but my heart forgets.” He said it with a wink and a playful grin that made me remember the first time he ever kissed me.
Last Christmas I had made my best friend come with me to Monterra, a small European nation between Italy and Switzerland that most people had never heard of. Some friends in my ski club mentioned that Monterra had some of the best powder and some of the cutest guys. My parents had plans to go on a cruise to celebrate their thirtieth wedding anniversary, and I asked if I could take Kat to Monterra to go skiing for Christmas.
The first day we were there, on the one day that Kat had promised to ski with me, she had a terrible accident. She had planned to meet me on the bunny slope. I had been skiing around waiting for her when I heard yelling and whistles farther down the mountain. Curious, I went off to see what was going on. There was Kat, strapped to a board and being pulled toward a waiting helicopter. I couldn’t recall another time when I’d ever felt so panicked or worried. I had tried frantically to get to her, to make sure she was okay, and someone grabbed me to keep me back. To hold me. To comfort me.
It was Dante.
He held me tight as I cried, causing my fear to dissipate while she was loaded in. Another man (Nico, I learned later) climbed in behind Kat, and Dante yelled something to him in Italian. He waved for us to join them. I sat right next to Kat, holding her hand, praying for her to be all right. She was awake, which was good. But I couldn’t seem to stop crying. I told her she was going to be okay, which I desperately hoped was true. I could feel Dante behind me, and even though I didn’t know his name then, I was so glad that he was there. He was so calm and sure while I fell apart. Kat threw up and passed out, and Dante held me again while I cried and the paramedics took care of her.
It had been all my fault that she was in that situation. She’d only skied once before, and she’d somehow gotten onto one of the harder runs and had almost died. I shouldn’t have made her come with me. If she had died, I never would have forgiven myself.
I was confused when we arrived at the hospital and all of the staff were bowing and scraping to the two men as Kat was rushed into an examination room. I heard someone call them “Your Highness,” which shocked me. I was told to sit in the waiting room by a nurse in broken English, while Dante and Nico spoke to some of the doctors. I pulled out my phone and did a search for “royal family” and “Monterra.”
And found pictures of Nico and Dante. Princes.
Charming, playboy princes from the look of things. Dante seemed to have a different girl for every occasion. I knew his type. I constantly dated and got cheated on by his type. I was well aware of how our story would end. Regardless of how considerate and nice he’d been, I wasn’t about to play his game. I planned to keep my distance. Maybe even find a different guy to lust after while I was there.
Once Kat had recovered and had started responding awkwardly to Nico’s sweet advances, I decided I needed to let off a little steam.
When I said as much to Dante, he told me he sometimes ran a pseudo-nightclub out of the castle’s dungeon. Which was weird, and I told him as much. He laughed, up until I asked him to invite some other friends along. Some male friends. His face fell, and he looked so sad it was all I could do to stick to my guns. I wasn’t going to let him sway me.
Which turned out to be famous last words.
Chapter 2
How much does a polar bear weigh? Usually enough to break the ice.
At the hospital Dante had introduced me to some of his friends, including his twin brother, Rafe, and several other young nobles. One in particular stood out—a man named Salvatore, who was some kind of duke. He was handsome, but nothing compared to the men of the royal family. It was a bit like a star standing next to a group of suns.