Page 223 of Twisted Royals

Crossing her arms over her chest, she shouts, “I lied to you? You are actual royalty! And for the record, I never once said I was a waitress. I admit I wasn’t forthright about being the CEO of a major shoe brand, but that information tends to intimidate men. Besides, you made it clear you weren’t interested in the long term so what did it matter? And you literally said you were a hockey player!”

I open my mouth to argue but she has a point. Frustrated, I run a hand through what’s left of my hair. “I am a hockey player,” I say with a sigh. “Or I was.”

Her arms stay crossed and her eyes narrow to slits as she waits for me to continue.

“I'm supposed to be the spare,” I explain, wishing we were having this conversation anywhere other than a storage closet. “I was never meant to take the throne. My brother was supposed to be king.”

Her eyes widen a fraction in realization and then lower to the floor.

“Rex? Your brother that died?” Her words come on a sad puff of understanding. “He was supposed to… and now you have to… oh god.” Her gaze finds mine again.

“Exactly.”

Neither of us speak for several beats and then to my shock she makes a choking sound and bursts out laughing.

“Oh my god!” she gasps, trying to control her giggles.

I’m staring at her, confused, when I hear voices in the hallway. They’re searching for us.

“Hush!” I command. “My parents and the rest of the fucking gala lunatics are trying to find us.”

That’s when we hear a piercing falsetto male voice.

“Has anyone seen the owner of these shoes? Look at them, they’re stunning! I must know whose shoes they are. Where they came from, and who designed them.”

We don’t hear any replies as the man moves on down the hallway, asking everyone he sees about the shoes.

I look down at Elle’s feet and she breaks out in a new hysteria of giggles. I crack a smile. I can’t help it. It is fucking ridiculous. The two of us are hiding in the closet like children afraid of being caught, and Elle is simply gorgeous, with her cheeks flushed, and her eyes sparkling with humor. And my cock, which is still thick from spanking her ass, hardens completely.

“Oh, god.” She draws in a shaky breath. “Your parents. My parents. They've been trying to push us together. All night—and for the last few weeks actually. And here, I've been pissed, wanting only Dan, my Prince Not-So-Charming, and you are one and the same.”

“I love you.” The words just tumble out of my mouth and like a record scratch, she stops laughing.

Elle stares, unblinking. “You do?”

I nod.

“I do too.”

“And I know you were with Bennet, and probably need some time but—” Her words hit me. “What?”

She smiles. “I said, I love you too.vAnd I was never really with Bennet.” Her lips curl on his name. “Not really. I went out on a date with him because I needed an appropriate man for this… thing.” She waves her hand around. “This excuse to get dressed up, mingle and gossip with the who’s who of society under the guise of charity.”

“And the uncharming hockey player didn’t fit the bill, huh?”

She bites her lip before giving a shrug. “No more than the waitress did, I guess. And I only needed a date because my father told me the Prince of Denmark was looking for a wife.”

We both grin, the silliness of our situation hitting us again.

“I do have to marry this year." I shrug as I say it, but hope bubbles in my chest. Because the woman I thought was off-limits, and all wrong for me, the one I assumed my parents would never accept, is the same one they've been pushing on me. And who fucking knew, but I want to marry her. I mean it’s crazy, we’ve only been on a handful of dates and those were mostly sex, but our connection is surreal. I’ve never felt like this with anyone and my gut is screaming she’s the one.

She laughs again, shaking her head and waving her hands in front of her. “Oh my god. I can't breathe. That’s absurd.”

My mouth flattens into a line, my hope sinking. It’s not that absurd.

And then I decide, fuck it. Because right now, there's only two ways this can go. I shoot my shot and score, actually pleasing my parents for once while getting my dream girl, or, I shoot and miss and she keeps laughing, and in two days I get on a plane, leave the country and never have to see her again.

“Is it?” I ask, taking a step closer to her, wrapping an arm around her waist. I pull her body to mine until our lips are as close as they can be without touching. “Is it really that absurd, little girl?”

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