“Just you wait…” He nuzzles my neck, the scraping of his unshaven jaw against my flesh igniting a flame inside me. “You’re about to find out exactly how primitive I can be.”
The elevator dings and stops, announcing our arrival. He nips my skin before linking his fingers with mine. He leads me down the hall, approaching the only door on this floor.
“So this is home?” I ask flirtatiously as he inputs a code into a keypad above the doorknob.
He’s about to press the final number when he pauses, a breathtaking smile crossing his lips. It’s no longer mischievous or salacious. It’s peaceful, serene.
It brings me peace, too.
“No, love.” He grabs my left hand, bringing it up to his mouth, feathering a kiss on my fourth finger where a diamond ring typically sits. “You are my home, Nora.”
I sigh, draping my arms over his shoulders. “You’re my home, too, Anderson.”
Chapter Two
Nora
“Surprise!”
I come to an abrupt stop the second I step into the apartment I’ve shared with Anderson the past few months. After I’d agreed to make the move to his home country of Belmont, he bought it so I’d still have somewhere to call home here in the States.
I dart my eyes toward the open living space off the entry where my three best friends, Chloe, Evie, and Izzy, stand beneath giant balloons that spell out Engaged A.F.
It reminds me of the Ding Dong Divorced party they threw me around this time last year. Back then, falling in love again was the last thing I wanted.
That was before my path crossed Anderson’s, something that never would have happened if my three best girls hadn’t encouraged me to take the trip on Route 66 I’d put off for years.
I marvel at all the pieces that had to snap into place for us to meet and fall in love. It wasn’t an easy journey, and I’m sure we’ll have more than our fair share of struggles ahead, but Anderson’s worth it.
“What’s going on?” I glance at him.
In the few days since he surprised me with a proposal, I’ve tried to remain cognizant of Anderson’s desire that we keep our engagement to ourselves until he has a chance to talk to his father. After all, he’s crown prince. As heir apparent, the king’s approval is required for all marriages. He’d already bought the ring so he’d have it when the time was right. Apparently, that was the other day, despite the lack of formality. Then again, that’s typical Anderson. From the moment we met, he’s always been spontaneous.
“Your engagement party, of course,” he says with a wink.
“But—”
He swallows my protest with a kiss. Then he reaches into the inner pocket of his suit jacket, retrieving a familiar, velvet box. With minimal fanfare, he pops it open and slides the stunning ring with a vintage flair onto my finger.
Taking my hands in his, he runs his thumb along my knuckles. It’s only been a matter of days, but every time I leave the apartment and have to take off my ring, I feel like a piece of myself is missing.
“It wasn’t fair of me to ask you to not share this with your friends.”
“You had your reasons,” I insist in a low voice.
“True. But when I proposed, I promised to give you everything you ever wanted.” He nods toward the living area where my friends wait, their own significant others close by. “That’s what I’m doing. You deserve to celebrate this important milestone with your best friends, not be forced to keep it a secret. They know not to tell anyone until there’s a formal announcement. You’re about to leave the only place you’ve called home to start over in a new country. And not merely as another face in the crowd, but as Prince Gabriel Anderson Wellingston’s American fiancée. You deserve one last taste of normalcy. We both do.”
I lift myself onto my toes, draping my arms around his neck, peering into those eyes that mesmerized me from the beginning.
“Thank you,” I murmur against his lips.
“I love you.”
“And I love you.” I gently touch my mouth to his.
“For crying out loud. Will you stop making out so we can see the ring?” Evie exclaims excitedly.
I laugh against Anderson’s mouth, then pull away. My friends quickly advance on me, grasping my hand to admire the setting.
“Oh, Nora. It’s breathtaking,” Izzy exhales as Anderson approaches the men, each of them offering him their own congratulations.
A few years ago, I never could have imagined this scene. Evie was still hopefully devoted to her ex, Trevor, which was to her detriment. Chloe was still vehemently anti-relationship. Izzy was still trying to convince all of us that, as a nurse who worked strange hours, she didn’t have time for a relationship. And I was engaged to the man I’d hoped would help me come to terms with losing Hunter, my first love.
Everything’s changed.
Julian taught Evie she shouldn’t have to sacrifice who she is for someone to love her. Lincoln helped Chloe see she’s worthy of love. Izzy learned she could run from love all she wants, but it will eventually come back for her, like happened with Asher. And I learned it’s okay to be vulnerable. To be less than perfect.
To be human.
“Have you discussed a date?” Evie grabs my elbow, leading me toward the kitchen island where a wide variety of finger foods have been set out.
I don’t have to ask who put this all together on such short notice. It has Evie written all over it. After all, she was the one who organized my Ding Dong Divorced party, including the rather macabre wedding cake featuring a bride pushing her groom off the top tier to his bloody demise. This time, instead of a cake, there’s an assortment of cupcakes arranged in the shape of a giant diamond ring.
“Not really.” I grit a smile. “We may not have much control as to when, but I told him I wanted to wait until you two can travel again.” I gesture between Chloe and Evie, both of them six months pregnant. “I’d like a long engagement anyway. That will give me time to get adjusted to life over there.”
“Are you ready for life over there?” Chloe presses. “For him to finally go public with your relationship?”
“Is anyone ever ready to be in the spotlight?” I joke, hoping my light tone masks my nerves.
It’s part of the reason he hasn’t brought me back home yet. He wanted to wait until we’d been together longer than a few months. Wanted to give us more time to be us — two strangers who met on a road trip and ended up falling in love. Because once we land in Belmont, I’ll become the American girl who stole the crown prince. A few photographers have snapped shots of us together, but thanks to recent drama in the British Royal Family, any that were published have been buried in the headlines.
“Just ignore everything,” Evie suggests with a wave of her hand, pushing a few locks of her vibrant red hair behind her ear.
She and Chloe know personally how brutal celebrity gossip can be. After all, they both work in the magazine industry, Chloe having been on the gossip column herself before being promoted to the current affairs desk.
“Exactly.” Izzy gives me an encouraging smile. “It’s all just noise.”
If anyone’s had a taste of what I’m about to go through, it’s Izzy. Her husband is Asher York, rock god who sells out stadiums nightly. I have no doubt there have been quite a few stories written about the woman married to the man who was once rock ‘n’ roll’s most eligible bachelor. But Izzy’s never cared what anyone thought of her. Although she’s adopted, she grew up with the unwavering support of two loving parents. They never berated her or made her feel like she’ll never measure up. Like she’s a complete failure at everything she does.