Page 80 of Stolen Princess

“So what?” I twist back to him. “I’m suddenly going to be a princess? That feels ridiculous. I’ve spent my life living alone in a cottage. I cook and clean and garden and sew and talk to feral animals because I have no friends.”

He wraps my braid around his fist and uses it to tug me closer to him. “Life is far from a fairytale, princess, but if you’re handed the key to the palace, you use it to unlock the door. Whether you choose to stay is up to you, but if you don’t try, you’ll always wonder and regret it.”

He’s right. I know he’s right.

“You know, if this thieving stuff doesn’t work out for you, maybe you should become a therapist.”

He chokes out a laugh. “Not sure that’s the career change I’m after. And you’re dodging me. As your therapist, I don’t think that’s wise.”

I nibble on his earlobe. “I never said you’d be my therapist.”

“Princess…”

“Ugh. Can we talk about it tomorrow? I want today to be normal with no one following us or trying to kill us.”

He grins and gives my hair another tug. “That’s my plan.”

The moment we step out of the car, I can smell and feel the sea. Briny freshness mixed with a cool humidity hit me in the face and tickle the stray hairs escaping my braid. I take a deep inhale, my back and neck arching to accommodate it, my eyes closing, and a smile spreading wide across my lips.

I don’t ask why Ferrin is doing this with me. I’m not sure I want answers. They won’t help me, but him taking me here, him buying gear so we can camp out under the stars with the waves nearby… it’s doing things to me. Things to my mind, but worse, things to my heart. He’s not someone I get to keep, but that doesn’t mean I’m anxious for him to go either.

That feeling grows stronger when I open my eyes and find him watching me with a look I can’t decipher on his face. It’s one that makes my stomach flutter and my skin itchy. He must see it on my face because a smile that makes those belly flutters swoop hits me, followed by a wink.

I laugh and flip him off, which makes him laugh too.

“Come here, princess. Help me carry this stuff.”

He opens the trunk and tosses a large, soft, cylindrical bag at me. I catch it and loop it under my arm before I grab another bag and my own.

“It’s this way. Be careful. The rocks are a motherfucker.”

“Meaning…”

He tosses his head back over his shoulder and catches me scrunching my nose.

“It’s an expression.”

“You realize I have mother issues right now, right?”

He holds up a hand carrying a large cloth bag. “Fine. Sorry. It’s the opposite of you.”

“What does that mean?”

He laughs. “Easy as pie when you let me between your thighs.”

I swing one of the bags and hit him in the back with it, which makes him laugh harder.

“I’m kidding. But seriously, stay behind me, and if you need a break or help, let me know.”

“I can handle it. I’m tougher than I look.”

“I know it, and I’ve seen it.”

The bastard, who is too gorgeous and irresistible for words, smacks a kiss on my cheek, then goes in front of me to make sure I don’t fall. It’s not helping me. If anything, it’s making my problem worse. But it’s too late now, so I’ll just push the romantic, girly notions I’ve fostered my entire life through the pages of romance books away as best I can.

Or not.

Maybe I’ll live in the romance and fantasy, and when it’s over, I’ll cry the tears of heartbreak and enjoy them because I’ll know I had something different.