Page 62 of His Runaway Princess

Ryker had to have a plan of his own. He wouldn’t let Dexter leave with her. None of them would.

Some of Ginny and Ollie’s teams had joined hers and Ryker’s. At least ten members of their protection teams were visible. There had to be more she couldn’t see.

“Where is your home?” Ryker asked. “What kind of home? Does it have a view of the ocean? She loves the ocean, you know.”

Dexter shifted, clearly uneasy with the question. “It’s near the water.” His defensive tone told her it didn’t have an ocean view.

He’d also loosened his hold just slightly.

“He’s right.” She managed to croak out the words. “I need a view of the ocean to be happy. A view of the ocean and a big bathroom. A jetted tub with marble and travertine and...”

What were the other kinds of material fancy enough for a palace bathroom? Or anything else in the palace?

“Art!” That was something. “I need artwork. Like Picasso and Van Gogh, but real ones and not prints.”

“First edition Shakespeare.” Ryker jumped in. “And a Gutenberg Bible.”

Were those even a thing anymore? Did they still exist outside of maybe a few museums?

Didn’t matter.

“He’s right.” Amalia felt his hold let go a bit more. “I need those things.”

Was it lying if your life was in danger? She liked the nicer things in life, but she didn’tneedthem like she implied.

“It doesn’t have any of those things.” His voice took on a slightly frantic tone. His hold tightened again. “But as long as we have each other, we can be happy.”

“I won’t really be happy.” She closed her eyes and made herself say it. “You’ve known all along that I want to be with you, but I need those kinds of things, too. I’m a princess, after all. My sister is older than I am. She’s the heir to the throne.” Officially. For now. “I’ll want to travel all over the world. Only private planes, of course. The best resorts. Even if I could learn to be happy in a tiny house with no view, I have to have the art and books and trips.”

Dexter hesitated. “We’ll be able to. We can travel until you have the children to raise.”

Amalia stared straight at Ryker and hoped he understood why she said what she did. “I won’t raise my own children like that.” Did her attempt at disdain work? “That’s what nannies are for.”

His grip loosened again “What?”

“I’m aprincess, Dexter.Princessesdon’t change diapers or wake up in the middle of the night to feed a screaming infant or take them toplay dates.”

Ryker had been easing closer and farther to one side as Amalia kept Dexter’s attention, using her body to sort of shift the direction they were facing away from Ryker as Dexter kept shuffling backward. Just a bit more and Ryker would be out of their line of sight.

Then he’d save her. She just had to keep doing her part.

“I understand why you want us to be together. It’s been obvious since that day at the carnival, but I’m still a princess and expect to live my life as one. That means a palace or at the very least a palatial mansion with ocean views out every window. Housekeepers. Chefs. Dozens of staff members. Nannies. If I could figure out a way to use a surrogate, I’d do that, too. I really don’t want to subject my body to the trauma of growing a whole person and giving birth.” She gave an exaggerated shudder, causing him to lose more of his grip. “No. Thank. You.”

It was time. She prayed Ryker was ready.

Shoving her elbow into his side, the one where he didn’t hold the knife, Amalia twisted sideways and managed to get out of his grasp only to fall to the ground instead of running like she’d planned.

Dexter grabbed at her but fell, landing on top of her and pressing her into the ground below.

Just as suddenly, his weight was gone, and she could hear sounds of fighting above her.

She pulled herself across the grass in an army crawl, trying to get away from the sound.

A yell of pain scared her enough that she rolled to the side and scrambled to her feet.

The protection teams had formed a sort of scrum around Dexter as the screaming continued.

She knew that voice.

---