Page 137 of One Last Stand

He picked up the book as he sat down. “The Call of the Wild.”

“Recommended by a friend.”

“Jack London. As I recall, it’s about a dog and the people he saves.”

“The dog is very loyal.”

“Buck.” He set the book down. “Ends up joining a wolf pack. You can take the dog out of the wild but not the wild from the dog.”

“Or maybe he just made a choice. And thanks—now I don’t need to finish it.”

Prince Luka leaned back in the chair, crossed one leg over the other, folded his arms. He wore a simple white pullover sweater, dress pants. “No. Finish it. The journey—not the ending—is the point of the story. It’s how the characters change and grow and become, right?” He winked.

Admittedly, he was a very handsome man. Dark hair that curled just slightly at his ears, tousled perfectly, and blue eyes that twinkled with charm. He bore a military frame, sturdy and lean, and she knew he’d served in some command position. Maybe search and rescue, which of course sounded right. After all, he was a prince. He even smelled good.

No wonder her mother hoped to throw her at him.

“I guess.” She picked up the book and stuck her napkin into it as a page marker. “Maybe I’m just tired of the journey.”

“You’re not even halfway through the book.”

She set the book down. “Do you ever get tired of being the prince?”

Silence. She looked up at him.

He seemed to be thinking through her words, gazing out to the mountains, to the castle on the ridge. Snow had fallen steadily for the last few days, finally sticking to the ground, turning the world, the city, white and sparkling.

“It’s who I am. So while fatigue comes from the demands, the expectations, I can’t change that.”

Right.“What if you had a choice, though? To walk away. To be . . . common.”

He laughed. “No one is common, Delaney. Each of us is royal. At least, if you are a believer in God’s Word and a child of salvation. By His Word, we’re all children of the King. Some of us just wear the crown on earth.”

Right.

“Is this about the job offer?”

A beat. “How did you know about that?”

“I was the one who suggested it.” He leaned forward. “You speak three languages, you know protocol, and frankly, you’d be a great asset to the office of the ambassador. Plus, you could travel with my envoy.” His smile warmed in her direction. “Perhaps, in time . . .”

Oh.“Prince Luka?—”

“Just Luka.”

“I don’t . . . I’m not . . .” She sighed. “I am not sure what I want.”

“I see.”

A waitress came over, curtsied, and then set his tea in front of him.

“Apparently she didn’t get the memo,” London said as he thanked her.

“If she wants to curtsy, then I respect that,” he said. “Respect is different than require, right?” He took a sip of the tea, set the cup back down. “I never want my countrymen to respect me out of fear but out of trust.”

No wonder he was beloved.

“So you’ll be turning down the offer?”

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