Page 3 of The King's Fake Bride

If not for the fact that he served as an advisor to my dad before he died, he would be out of this room right now.

I don’t know how much longer I can put up with him, but I know that I’m reaching the end of my rope.

“Yorgos was eight years older than me. He didn’t want me hanging around. He had a future job to focus on. He was supposed to have kids long before he died, kids that would take over the crown and let me live in peace.”

Atticus smirks as he sits down beside me, kicking his heels up on the table and leaning back in his chair. “Cousin, I would watch what you say in regard to leaving you in peace and not wearing the crown. You don’t exactly have a fan club knocking down your door right now. You don’t need to make it worse.”

“That’s exactly what you’re trying to do with this marriage business.” I’m about to list all the ways this can go wrong when Jorge clears his throat.

“I think that you should take some time to think about it,” he says, standing up from the table. He bows to me before heading to the wooden door and leaving, shutting it with a heavy thud behind him.

As soon as we’re alone, I turn to Atticus. “You must be losing your mind. I can’t believe you think that I should be marrying some random woman to try and gain the country’s approval.”

He meets my gaze steadily. “Really, cousin. What do you have to lose?”

CHAPTER 2

AMY

Present Amy is pissed at Past Amy for not thinking about the mess that would be left all over her apartment when she decided to pack at the last minute.

I groan as I get out of bed, stretching before nearly falling over the suitcase in the middle of the floor.

Catching myself on the edge of the dresser, I untangle my foot from the midi-length slip dress I plan on changing into the moment I’m off the plane and in Mykonos.

Sighing, I glance at the clock. I still have several hours left to pack, but I have no clue what to bring.

What do you wear on your best friend’s weekend bachelorette trip to Greece?

My phone starts buzzing somewhere in the mountain of clothing that met their fate on the chair in the corner, and I groan. Why the hell is someone calling me at six in the morning?

I shuffle to the side, digging through the pile and sending most of it cascading to the ground as I look for the phone.

When I find it, there are several missed calls and messages from Gabby. I dial her back immediately, my first thought going to the wedding.

“Why aren’t you at the airport right now?” she asks as soon as the call connects.

“Uh, because the flight isn’t for another twelve hours? You booked us for six tonight.”

Gabby sighs, people chattering in the background. “No, Amy. I booked the flights for six this morning. I’m standing here with your ticket, but you’re not here. You’re not going to miss the weekend, are you?”

“No!” Tears spring to my eyes as I start shoving shorts and shirts into my suitcase, not caring if any of them will create viable outfits. “I’m so sorry, Gabs. I’ll call the airline right now and see what I can do to get another ticket. I promise I’m going to be there.”

“Are you sure? I can pay for the ticket for you.”

Guilt gnaws at me, tearing at the last few pieces of my dignity. “You don’t have to do that, Gabs. You already paid for the entire trip, and I’m the one who screwed up. I have some savings I can use to cover the flight.”

All of my short-term savings, actually.

“If this is going to be an issue for you, you know I don’t mind paying,” Gabby says, her tone gentle as one of the other girls calls for her. “We’re boarding now, so I have to get going.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll get the next flight out of New Jersey, and I’ll meet you there.”

“Okay. Let me know when you get a flight booked and when you’re supposed to land. I’ll send a car to pick you up.”

“Thanks, Gabs. I’m sorry I got the times wrong.”

“Everything is going to be fine.”

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