Page 69 of The Backup Princess

But as he asks me about my life in Texas, the way he listens intently to my replies, picking up on things I say, always with his eyes trained intently on me as though I’m the only person in the room, I begin to forget how much I dislike him.

Dangerous territory.

“You know, Texas, I'm wondering at what point you're going to apologize,” he says, catching me completely off guard.

“Apologize? What for? Not having as many palaces as you?”

Ha!

I’ll admit, I'm a little pleased with my retort.

“Actually, Malveaux has quite a number of royal residences, one more than Ledonia.”

Trust him to know that.

He does that thing where he leans in closer to me and I can't help but catch his scent, which of course, just like him, is a little too compelling for comfort.

“If you just apologized for the cupboard incident, we could call it a truce and move on with our lives,” he says, his voice low and intimate.

It does things to my belly that I try to ignore.

I glance around us. Everyone is involved in their own conversations, not listening to Alexander or me. I lift my water glass to my lips and take a sip. “Here isn’t the place to talk about that.”

Or any place. Ever. It’s way too mortifying.

“Why not? No one’s listening. They’re all talking politics, which frankly, I find rather dull.”

I choke on my drink. “But you’re going to be King someday. Shouldn’t you at least try to talk politics?”

“There’s plenty of time for that. My father doesn’t retire until he’s 65. There’s a lot of time before things have to get boring. So, let’s have it out. Air the dirty laundry, as they say. That way we can both get through our time together in one piece. And it’s Alex, remember?”

He’s got a point, but apologize to him? Is he drunk?

I try to keep the sting from my voice. “You were horrible to me that night,” I say under my breath. “I’m not going to apologize to you when you told me I was milking my new found position in life for all it’s worth. Which, by the way, is completely untrue and so very not a part of my character, that it’s laughable. The way I see it, you should be apologizing to me.”

“I think you'll find that particular conversation happened well after your fist met my nose, princess.”

I know he’s right.

I bite down on my lip, my irritation rising, mixed with a healthy spoonful of guilt.

I decide to level with him.

“Look. The thing is, I was in the closet taking a moment to myself when you burst in suddenly, totally freaking me out, and I genuinely thought you’d followed me in there to hurt me. You were muttering to yourself like some kind of crazy person. I saw red.”

He takes a beat before he replies. “I understand how you might have felt threatened.”

My eyes widen in surprise. “You do?”

“Of course I do. I’m not an ogre.”

I see an opportunity to lighten the mood between us. “You mean like Shrek?”

His features relax, his lips curving into a hint of a smile. “Like Shrek.”

“I knew it. You drink a potion to make you human every day.”

He lets out a low, rumbling laugh that seems to reach inside and tug on my belly. “Oh, you should see me when I wake up. Not a pretty sight.”

---