“No selfies.”
“You’re joking. That’s actually a rule?”
“‘Fraid so.”
“What’s the reason behind it?”
“I ask myself that regarding a lot of these rules. Some I can understand. For example, once my father became king, I was no longer able to travel with him. I couldn’t even ride in the same car.”
“Is that because of what happened to your uncle and cousins?”
“Actually, no. That’s been a rule as long as I can remember. The heir apparent can never travel with the monarch. Once we arrived at our final destination, we could be together, but we couldn’t fly on the same plane or anything like that.”
“I can kind of understand that. Must make planning a vacation a nightmare, though,” I add in jest as the SUV pulls off a quaint road and comes to a stop in front of a gate.
A man dressed in a dark suit steps out of the guardhouse, bowing toward the back seat where he must know Anderson sits, despite all the windows being tinted black. Then the gate opens and Creed maneuvers the SUV up a winding drive shaded by mature trees.
I gawk at my surroundings. “Is this Wintervale?”
Flowers and perfectly manicured grass line the long driveway, everything full of color and well maintained. I can’t remember the last time I’ve lived somewhere with grass. It’s one of those things you take for granted until you move somewhere like Manhattan and have to go to Central Park to enjoy it.
“It’s the residence of the heir apparent. Well, technically, it’s supposed to be the heir apparent’s residence upon his marriage, but I kind of broke the rules on that front.”
“How so?”
“Most members of the royal family are married before they’re thirty. It’s…encouraged in order to produce an heir.”
“And a spare. Don’t forget the spare.”
“Never.” He winks. “But after I lost Kendall…” He smiles sadly.
I squeeze his hand, knowing all too well how he feels. It doesn’t matter how many years have passed. Like Hunter, Kendall was Anderson’s first love. And was also someone who wasn’t supposed to die young. Whereas I lost Hunter in a car accident, he watched Kendall collapse during a volleyball tournament, then spent months blaming himself after learning she had an undiagnosed heart condition that caused her to have a heart attack and die before her thirtieth birthday. At least I was able to mourn Hunter in private. Anderson wasn’t. Instead, he was forced to say goodbye to the woman he hoped to marry while the paparazzi attempted to cash in on his grief.
“My father ‘gifted’ it to me,” he continues. “Hoped it would remind me of my place in this world.”
“Did it?”
“At first, I decided the best thing was to focus on my role as heir and future monarch. When I received an invitation to speak at the opening of a volleyball training center in Long Island that was named for her, I returned to the U.S. for the first time since her death. And that was where I was diagnosed with MS. I thought it was heat stroke or the stress of being surrounded by memories of Kendall. Even told Creed that was the reason I’d fainted.”
“But it wasn’t.”
“It wasn’t. So instead of hopping on a plane to Los Angeles, where I’d planned to spend a few weeks before returning home, I decided to drive.” He leans toward me, brushing his lips against mine. “And one fateful day, I glanced up from my coffee in a loud, greasy diner in Chicago and saw this woman meditating.”
I laugh under my breath. “Not the most conducive spot to clear your mind.”
“True. But I knew I had to find out more about her. And I can’t tell you how grateful I am for every day I get to know you.”
He presses a chaste kiss to my lips as the car slows to a stop, then gestures out the window toward a palatial brick building that looks like it belongs on the set of a period romance. “Welcome to Wintervale, Nora.”
Blinking, I slowly slide out of the car after a valet opens my door and drink it all in. Vines snake around the façade of the massive three-story building. Not in an overgrown manner, but in a way that adds a historic feel to this impressive estate. I want to pinch myself. This can’t be real. Can it? A year ago, my divorce had just been finalized and I was unsure what my future held.
Never could I have imagined I’d be engaged to a prince. That I’d be the future queen consort of a European country. It feels like I’m living a fairy tale. Like I’m the unnamed narrator in Rebecca seeing Manderley for the first time.
Just like she’d encountered a rude awakening once she was thrust into a life she never imagined, I know I’ll face the same. For now, I want to bask in this brief slice of happiness. Of the sun warming my skin. The birds chirping. The fresh air surrounding me.
The feeling of hope.
“What do you think?”
“It’s nice.” I shrug, feigning indifference. “I’ve seen bigger. I mean, the fountain is a bit unimpressive.” I nod toward a gorgeous three-tiered fountain in the center of the circular drive.
Anderson slings an arm over my shoulders, kissing my cheek. “Well, for you, my beautiful Nora, I’ll have an even bigger one put in. Now, come on. I have plans for you.” He waggles his brows.
“Plans?”
When his eyes darken, a thrill shoots through me. “Oh yes. Big plans. And they involve me, you, a bed, and absolutely no distractions.”
I tilt my head back and relish in the warmth of his lips on mine. “I like the sound of that.”
Chapter Six
Anderson
I don’t think I’ve ever seen Nora’s eyes as wide as they are now. She’s always had a sort of doe-eyed appearance, her face reminding me of the way many animators seem to draw princesses. Soft features. Pouty lips. Bright eyes.
But as I introduce Nora to her new home, I’m confident they’re about to pop out of her head. Between the spacious library, private yoga studio I had designed, and lush gardens where Nora plans to spend a great deal of time meditating, she’s on cloud nine.
It takes longer than I’d anticipated to show her around the grounds and introduce her to the staff. Or maybe it feels that way because I’m desperate to be alone with her after having to share her for the past few hours. I’m done sharing. And when we finally make it to the bedroom, I’m rather short with Richard, my personal butler, dismissing him with an order that I’m not to be disturbed for the rest of the day.
Once we’re alone, Nora gives me a coy look. “Does everyone here always do whatever you tell them?”
“If they want to keep their job, they do,” I answer, although that’s not entirely true. Half the time, I’m the one being told what to do, not the other way around.
Hips swaying, she saunters up to me, her gaze darkening. In a heartbeat, I forget everything else, my body buzzing to life. My pulse increases, a dizzying sensation consuming me, my fingers aching to reach out and touch every inch of her.
“And what about me?” She curves toward me, wrapping her hand around my tie, urging my mouth closer to hers. But there’s still too much space between us.