Home > Tangled Games (Dating Games #5)(7)

Tangled Games (Dating Games #5)(7)
Author: T.K. Leigh

“Makes it sound like kids are commodities. Not living, breathing humans.”

“Welcome to my world, Nora.” He smiles, but it oozes with sarcasm. “I don’t remember much about my Uncle Theodore. I was young when he died. Only eight.”

“What happened?”

“He and his family went to Switzerland for a skiing holiday one Christmas. An unexpected avalanche came over them. Killed him, his wife, and their four children, along with several other guests and ski guides.”

I cover my mouth with my hand, shaking my head. “Oh, my god.”

“It made headlines back then, but considering you were probably only two or three at the time, I doubt you remember it. Needless to say, it affected the entire family. Hell, the country. In the blink of an eye, not only did the heir apparent perish, but so did the second, third, fourth, and fifth in line to the crown. Until that point, I was content with the fact I’d never be king. That I’d never come remotely close to being king. I got to have a normal childhood, unlike my older cousin, who had to go through all this extra tutoring to learn about our government and the monarchy. To learn how to rule. Then it all changed.”

He swallows hard, a pensive look crossing his face. “This will probably come out as extremely insensitive, but when I heard the news, I cried. Not for my cousins or aunt or uncle. But because I saw their deaths as mine, too.”

“Anders…,” I sigh.

“You’ll hear the word ‘duty’ being tossed around a lot in the coming weeks. After the accident, I had it thrown at me from every direction. Their bodies were still warm when I was ripped out of my old school in the country and placed in a new one in London where I’d learn how to be an effective leader, in addition to everything else expected of me. It all happened so quickly. One day, I was just a kid most people barely recognized. The next, my face was all over the media as the future king. From seventh in line to second.” His Adam’s apple bobs up and down. “And within a month, I went from second in line to heir apparent.”

I close my eyes, my heart breaking for the boy he once was. It sounds crazy, considering the picture popular fiction paints of royalty. But I can see the truth plastered all over Anderson’s face. This life isn’t as charmed as everyone believes.

“I’m not telling you this because I want your sympathy. I’ve made peace with the circumstances that led to this point in my life. I’m telling you this because I know how it feels to be an outsider. Maybe not to the extent you’re considered an outsider, but I can relate. The first eight years of my life, I was…normal, apart from my grandfather being king. I went to a normal school. Had normal friends. Played normal sports. Then all that changed. The entire country’s attention seemed to be focused on my father and me. And, to a lesser degree, my sister, as well as the rest of my cousins. Granted, it’s not the same thing as what you’ll go through as you get adjusted, but—”

“You’re right.”

Cupping his cheek, I brush my thumb against the smooth skin. It makes me miss his usual scruff. Something else I’ll have to get used to. Anderson’s made his distaste for the rules regarding his appearance quite clear.

“It isn’t the same. You had this life thrust upon you. You had no choice but to acclimate.” I crane my mouth closer to his. “But I do, Anderson. And despite knowing it won’t be easy, that there will be quite a few people who don’t like the idea of their future king marrying someone like me, I still choose this.” My lips skim his. “Still choose you.”

He digs his fingers into my hair, pulling me closer. Or as close as possible with an armrest separating us. The plane jostles as the wheels hit the ground, but neither of us breaks away. He swipes his tongue against my lips, and I open for him, not caring who might see us. That doesn’t matter, not when I’ll have to share Anderson with the rest of the world in a matter of seconds. For now, I’ll take every last heartbeat he’ll give me.

As the plane slows and turns off the runway, he brings the kiss to an end. Without saying a word, he reaches past me and lowers my window shade.

“For privacy,” he answers my unspoken question. “You’ll learn to take what you can get.”

“Oh… Of course.”

I stare straight ahead, a bout of nausea rolling over me, which only increases the second the plane comes to a stop, the few members of the cabin crew jumping up from their seats. I study Anderson, taking my cues from him. He remains sitting in the plush chair that’s a far cry from any commercial airline seat, but he does unbuckle his seat belt, so I do the same.

I peer at the shaded window, wishing I could see what’s going on outside. Then again, it’s probably best I don’t, especially when the attendant opens the cabin door and I’m able to make out the sound of a crowd assembled nearby. I inhale several deep breaths, practicing the meditation techniques I once taught on a daily basis in the yoga studio I used to run.

Positive energy in. Negative energy out.

But no amount of breathing can help ward off the nerves filling me.

When I feel him squeeze my hand, I bring my gaze to Anderson, who gives me an encouraging smile. Noticing movement out of the corner of my eye, I look forward as a man in a dark suit enters the cabin. Creed greets him with a curt nod before they make their way toward us.

“Your Highness,” the man says, bowing his head toward Anderson.

He has a no-nonsense attitude. Much like Creed, something about him screams former military. But his frame isn’t nearly as formidable as Creed’s, who easily towers over him by at least a half-foot. Then again, being the same height as Anderson’s six-four, Creed easily towers over most people.

“Welcome home.”

“Thank you, Nathan,” Anderson says in an even tone I’ve only heard on occasion. It’s his business voice. His royal voice. His Prince Gabriel voice. “May I introduce you to Ms. Nora Tremblay. Nora, this is my private secretary, Lieutenant Colonel Nathan Bridge.”

The man looks at me, nodding slightly. “Pleasure, ma’am.”

“Likewise.”

When Anderson first mentioned his private secretary was former military, I was confused why someone with that background would take a job as a secretary. It seemed like a waste of his qualifications. Then he explained that as the private secretary to a member of the royal family, Lieutenant Colonel Bridge is often the first line of communication between Anderson, as heir to the throne, and the rest of the government and royal household, as well as the media. He’s also in charge of planning Anderson’s day-to-day schedule. Apparently, those working as private secretaries, or assistant private secretaries, yield a considerable amount of influence. Even Creed, Anderson’s chief protection officer, must report all of Anderson’s movements to Lieutenant Colonel Bridge.

“As Captain Lawson has advised you,” Bridge begins, glancing at Creed before returning his attention to Anderson, “there’s quite a large press presence here, in addition to a considerable number of civilians lining the road.”

“Good? Bad?” Anderson inquires.

“A mixture of both. You’re aware there’s a small, yet rather vocal minority of the populace who are vehemently anti-foreigner. Particularly anti-American.”

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