Page 42 of Fake Dating the Prince

Grateful for the reprieve, Flip rolled his eyes on cue.

For the first quarter of their flight, Brayden kept his nose pressed to the window. Unfortunately for him, today was the darkest day of the year—this close to the north pole, the sun’s light cast barely more than a match’s glow over the landscape, and it burned out nearly as fast.

Even if Brayden could have recognized landmarks by lit-up streets and buildings, there wasn’t anything to see. The plane was crossing the Baltic.

“The suspense is killing me,” Brayden grumbled, but he didn’t seem to have his heart in it. A constant smile played on his lips, and he jiggled his leg as they ascended to cruising altitude.

When the plane leveled off, he got up and went to the minifridge, laughed, and returned with three bags of peanuts for Flip, which he dropped in his lap. “Individual servings of wine,” he commented as he set the tiny bottles on his seat so he could return for the glassware. “It’s just like I’m at home.”

“In that case, maybe I should pour.” He did, and they touched glasses.

“What are we toasting?” Brayden asked.

Good question. “Clear skies, I think.” Otherwise the whole trip would be—well, it would be a blatantly romantic overture but without the distraction of fulfilling an item on Brayden’s bucket list.

“To clear skies, then.”

Brayden took a picture of their glasses next to each other on their trays, presumably to post to Instagram later.

When they deplaned, the airstrip lights illuminated a little halo around them. The wind whipped into Flip’s face and froze the hair in his nostrils, and his breath hung in the air. He’d put on his gloves and scarf and changed into heavy boots on the plane. Even so, he wasn’t used to weather this cold—even in Toronto.

“You weren’t kidding when you said to pack warm.” Brayden shivered despite the thick parka Flip’s stylist had picked out for him.

Flip wanted to put his arm around him.Soon.With a little luck, anyway.

Their SUV pulled up just a moment later, followed by another. The first driver handed Flip the keys to the Range Rover, loaded their luggage into the boot, and got into the second vehicle. All perfectly mysterious and designed to keep Brayden in suspense.

“I’m dying here,” Brayden said good-naturedly as he climbed into the passenger seat. “Where are we going?”

Flip pulled up the GPS, which was already set with their destination—not that it would mean anything to Brayden, because—

“Actually, scratch where we’re going. Where are wenow?” He raised his eyebrows at the screen. “That’s a lot of vowels. And consonants. And umlauts.” He paused. “Are we in Finland?”

So much for the surprise. Flip should have known better than to underestimate Brayden’s language skills. “Looks that way,” he said as he followed the directions to exit the tiny airstrip.

The landscape outside the bright bubble of the airport might as well have been a different planet. Though the sky was a clear, dark indigo scattered with stars and only a quarter moon, every candela of light reflected tenfold off a perfect, gleaming layer of snow.

Brayden licked his lips. “Is it—is this…. I mean.” He glanced at the clock. “Just before six,” he murmured to himself. “So, what, the sun’s been down for a few hours?”

“The sun hasn’t come over the horizon in a week,” Flip corrected quietly. Theirs was the only car on the road. Twelve minutes to their destination.

“So we might see… I mean, we’re here for the Northern Lights, right?”

“I booked us a room for two nights,” Flip confirmed, a little disappointed Brayden had spoiled his own surprise. He still had the hotel itself up his sleeve, at least. “If we haven’t seen them by then, I’ll extend our stay.”

A few kilometers passed in relative silence, the only sound the Range Rover’s tires on the road.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Brayden said at last. He was looking out the window, his expression a mask of wonder. If Flip could get Brayden to look athimlike that…. “But I’m glad you did. This is… this is more than I could have asked for. So. Thank you.”

Flip swallowed hard and pushed downI don’t want your gratitude. It wasn’t true exactly, and Brayden was a gracious person by nature, even if he expressed that in nonstandard ways.

But oh, he didn’t want Brayden to act out of appreciation. Not tonight. Flip wanted so much more than gratitude.

He curled his fingers tighter around the steering wheel and said, “You’re welcome.”

BRAYDENcouldn’t tell much about the hotel from the lobby, partly because Flip had instructed him to stay in the car while he checked in and procured their keys. A well-bundled woman knocked on his window and asked him to open the trunk so she could deliver their suitcases. Apparently that would happen via snowmobile sled. Brayden didn’t know why they couldn’t take the bags themselves, but perhaps it was a fancy hotel thing.

“Thank you,” the woman said cheerfully, and she zipped off into the night. A number of glowing lights in the distance seemed to indicate the rooms were separate cabins of some kind, or at least in different buildings. Brayden couldn’t tell from there.

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