Page 20 of Princess Bride Swap

Well, she wasn’t a threat.

“You do not need to, Mother. But you need to trust me. And treat your crown princess with respect.”

Mother’s expression went cool. “Very well,Your Highness.” Then she swept out of the room.

Lyon sighed. He did not have time to smooth over things with his mother. Besides, she was the one acting out of turn.

She was just worked up about change, no doubt. Just because it was a necessary change they’d both agreed on likely didn’t mean it was easy to realize she was no longer needed as his partner. Beau would take that role.

Beau. Likely still asleep. Cheeks flushed from the warmth of the bed, hair tousled from tossing and turning. She’d worn rather unattractive pajamas to bed last night, but that hadn’t erased the memory of her standing before him in nothing but—

He shoved the last of his things in his bag. Forcefully. Before marching out of his office. He simply wouldn’t think of it. He’d pretend it had been a dream he’d had. Even if she tried to bring it up, he would refuse.

He let that certainty take him all the way upstairs and into his rooms. He expected to find her still in bed, but she was dressed, seated on a chair in the sitting room. She was reading a book, a cup of coffee in one hand.

She looked up. Briefly. “Good morning,” she offered pleasantly.

“Good morning,” he returned. Then he waited. But whatever he was waiting for did not materialize. She went right back to her book and sipping her coffee. She was dressed perfectly in another pair of dark, loose slacks that looked like silk, and a more formfitting sweater. Today the color of ripe berries.

Which reminded him of...

“Our video has been well received,” he said, stiffly and suddenly even to his own ears. “It even got picked up by a few European news affiliates. People are enamored with the story. So, we will head off this morning. I have much to do, and I don’t like to be too far away for long, but we will take the weekend as a honeymoon of sorts.”

After a moment, she set the book aside—his family biography that he’d given her, he realized—then she looked up at him. Her hazel eyes were a storm of things he couldn’t name. She sipped from her cup, then nodded. “Do I need to pack?”

“My staff will take care of everything you’ll need.”

“Naturally.” She got to her feet. “Are we leaving now?”

“In about fifteen minutes.”

She nodded. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to grab a few books from the library.”

“Of course.” But he found himself rooted to the spot, blocking her exit from the room. “I have requested next to no staff for this trip. There will be some security, but we will have the chalet to ourselves. Complete privacy.”

Her gaze didn’t falter, but she tilted her head to one side. Studying him. “For step four?”

He still wasn’t sure whether he was delighted by her directness, or if he disliked it entirely. He never quite expected it from her because she was timid in so many other ways. So it continually surprised him, when he was no fan of surprises.

Yet he always found himself smiling anyway.

“For as many steps as you’d like,tesoruccia.”

“What does that mean?Tesoruccia.I keep meaning to look it up.”

He wasn’t sure why he hesitated. He wasn’tembarrassedor he wouldn’t call her that. “Treasure,” he offered.

She laughed.

“Is that funny?”

“The idea that I’m some kind of prize? Yes. Never in my life has anyone...” She trailed off and shook her head. For all her attempts at elegant dismissiveness, a shell of sorts as if nothing got to her, any time she spoke of her family some little hint of vulnerability snuck through.

And reached inside of him like a barb, stuck there, until he did something to smooth it away.

“The truth of the matter is, whatever it is that Zia has done that you do not wish to divulge, it is clear she wasn’t going to marry me. The fact you stepped into her place is of great value to me, Beau.”

She blinked at that, something soft and sweet in her expression. “I think the only person in my entire life who’s ever felt that way is Zia.”

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