I nod my head slowly, still stunned by all of this. “Of course. It’s all right, Logan. I…I understand.”
He nods, gives me a quick smile and leaves, closing the door behind him.
With a weary exhale, Nicholas sits in the chair by the desk. He digs his palms into his eyes, rubbing. Then he lowers his hands—and opens his arm.
“Come here, love.”
Greedily, I fly to him. Sitting in his lap, wrapping my arms around him, feeling pure relief when he returns the favor. I tremble against him—shaken to the core.
“Are you all right?” he asks, his breath warm against my neck.
“I think so. It’s all just so weird.” I straighten up in his lap, needing to sort my thoughts. “I can’t believe that woman…the way she acted…like she was so sure she knew you. Has this ever happened before?”
“A long time ago, a man snuck into the palace, into my grandmother’s private dining room.”
My heart tightens with concern for a woman I’ve never met. But I realize that because she means so much to Nicholas, she already means a lot to me.
“He didn’t intend any harm—it was similar to the lass tonight. Delusional.”
I hold his strong, handsome face in my hands. “I think I’m only just really starting to get it. It’s like Logan said—you’re important. And I knew that, but…I don’t think of you as Prince of Pembrook, heir to blah-blah-blah…” My eyes touch every inch of his face. “To me, you’re just Nicholas. This amazing, sexy, sweet, funny guy…who I really care about.”
His thumb brushes my bottom lip. “I like that you look at me that way.”
Then he clears his throat and glances away. “And I know it’s been a hell of a night, but…there’s something I have to tell you, Olivia, before this goes any further. Something…we have to talk about.”
Well, that doesn’t sound good.
But after this, how bad could it be?
Stupid, stupid, stupid last words.
I play with the hair at the back of Nicholas’s neck, combing my fingers through the thick, dark strands.
“What is it?”
Nicholas’s arms tighten like two bands of iron—holding on like he doesn’t want me to get away. And a second later, I know why.
“I’m getting married.”
I PROBABLY COULD’VE PHRASED that better. Damn.
Olivia stiffens in my arms, looking at me with big, dark eyes in a gray face. “You’re engaged?”
“No. Not yet.” She tries to rise, but I hold her close.
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
“Let me explain.”
She struggles harder. “Let me up and then you can explain.”
I squeeze her tighter. “I like you where you are.”
Her voice turns to stone—the kind that’s been sharpened into a shank.
“I don’t give a flying fuck what you like right now—I want to get up. Let me up, Nicholas!”
My arms drop and she springs away from me, breathing fast, staring like she doesn’t know who I am. Like she never did.
And it’s as if a civil war wages across her face—half of her wanting to bolt, the other half wanting to hear what I have to say. After a few moments of indecision, the latter has won.
She crosses her arms and sits down on the edge of the bed, slowly. “Okay. Explain.”
I tell her the whole story. About my grandmother, the list—about all the birds that need to be killed and how I’m the stone that gets to do the deed.
“Wow,” she murmurs afterward. “And I thought I was the one with baggage.” She rocks a bit, shaking her head. “That’s…crazy. I mean, it’s the twenty-first century and you have to do the arranged marriage thing?”
I try to shrug. “It’s not as arranged as it used to be. The first time my grandparents were alone in a room together was their wedding night.”
“Wow,” Olivia says again. “Awkward.”
“I at least have the chance to get to know the woman I’ll marry. I get to decide—but there are certain requirements that have to be met.”
She leans forward, elbows to knees, her silky hair falling over her shoulder. “What kind of requirements?”
“She has to be nobility, even distantly. And she has to be a virgin.”
Olivia grimaces. “Jesus, that’s archaic.”
“I know it is. But think about it, Olivia. My children will govern a country one day, not because they’ve earned it or were elected—just because they’re mine. Archaic rules are the only thing that makes me who I am. I don’t get to choose which ones I’ll follow.” I shrug. “That’s life.”
“No, it’s not,” Olivia says quietly.
“It’s my life.”
As she stares at me, her expression hardens and her eyes turn steely, pinning me to the wall. “Why didn’t you tell me? All these nights, why didn’t you say anything?”
“There was no reason to tell you…at first.”
She stands up fast, voice rising. “Honesty is a reason, Nicholas. You should have told me!”
“I didn’t know!”
“You didn’t know what?” she sneers prettily.
“I didn’t know it would feel like this!” I shout.
The scorn fades from her face along with the anger. Replaced with rising surprise, maybe a bit of hope. “Feel like what?”