“Come on,” I prod. “It’s just a question.”
Erik sighs, but glances at me out of the corner of his eye. “Three weeks.”
I shoot a cheeky grin at him. “Let me guess, it was—”
“On assignment,” we finish together.
His smile is small, but it shoots right to my sternum. I can’t deny that I’m attracted to Erik. And getting to know him through these questions isn’t helping me rid myself of it. If anything, it’s making things worse.
If the situation were different…
If I weren’t a princess, or he were nobility, things could be different. Maybe I’d ask him on a date. Maybe he’d ask me. But things are the way they are. We’re on two opposite ends of the spectrum.
And on top of it all, he’s my executive protection agent. If there’s one man in the world I should keep off my list, it’s Erik.
But sometimes, the heart wants what the heart wants, regardless of if it’s practical. Plausible. Possible.
And dating Erik is none of the three.
I’ve been quiet too long—too lost in my own thoughts—so Erik asks his own question. “Do you look like your mom or your dad?”
I eye him, and he looks just bored enough that I wonder if he actually wants to know the answer, or if he just wants to fill the silence.
“My mother.” The way Erik nods a little too enthusiastically tips me off. “But you already knew that didn’t you?”
He shrugs. “I won’t pretend like I didn’t do my research the first night.”
Eh. Fair’s fair. He was a little freaked out after I dropped the “princess” bomb on him in the airport parking garage and didn’t ask me any more questions, even though he had been adamant about learning “everything.” It would make sense that, as a man in his profession, he would have looked me up to uncover the information that I didn’t give him—information that could be important while protecting a person like me.
Though I’ve Googled myself a time or two and laughed at the results.
“What about you?”
Erik’s face falls into an almost frown. “My mom.”
He doesn’t glance over at me, like he has been for a good portion of this leg of our road trip. And based on what he’s told me so far about his parents and what I inferred during the two phone calls he had with her, he doesn't have a great relationship with his mother.
I wait for a moment, hoping he’ll elaborate on his answer, but he doesn’t.
“Is that part of the reason why you don’t want to go to her wedding?”
Erik’s frown deepens, but he doesn’t immediately answer. I’ve been slowly chipping away at him, but this must be too big of a chunk. I shouldn’t have asked.
“I’m sorry—” I begin to say, but Erik shakes his head.
“It’s okay to ask.” A small look in my direction. “Seeing as how we’re headed there, you should know. It’s just…” Erik trails off. I watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallows hard. “I don’t usually talk about this stuff—my life—with my clients.”
“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. You have a pass.”
Erik shakes his head again and gives me a small smile, and it’s that smile that catches on my heart, more than any of the ones he’s given me before. This is the smile of a man who is opening up to me in a way he doesn’t normally, and judging by the way he takes his time to pick the right words, I don’t think he opens up like this to anyone.
“I want to answer,” he says, but it takes him another few minutes before he speaks again. “My dad died when I was in college.” I nod along, encouragingly. “He was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer during my senior year of high school.”
When Erik glances at me again, his eyes are sad. “My mom asked for a divorce only a few weeks after he was diagnosed.”
Only years of tutoring on etiquette helps me keep my face in a thoughtfully concerned expression. Because inside, I can feel my heart breaking for Erik.
His brow furrows more as he continues. “Dad didn’t fight it, he just let her leave. But wanting to do anything with or for the woman who walked away from him—from both of us—is not something that I come by naturally. She’s marrying the man she started dating shortly after the divorce was finalized.” He looks over at me when he pauses. “And he’s barely ten years older than I am.”