Page 99 of The Princess Trap
It took her a moment to realise that the voices floating down the hall were raised in friendly exuberance rather than disagreement. Cherry pressed a hand to her chest and breathed out a sigh of relief.
“We must cycle. Do you cycle, Ruben?”
“Not really, sir, but I can. I’d like that.”
“Excellent, excellent. I cycle every morning. Good for my blood pressure, doctor says.” As always, David Neita’s voice entered the room before he did. Ruben stepped in first, meeting Cherry’s eyes with a grin. She knew by the look on his face that things had gone well. Then she looked at her dad’s face and realised things had gonereallywell. As soft-hearted as he was on the inside, his expression tended to hover somewhere between vague displeasure and pained annoyance, unless he was in an extremely good mood.
Right now, he was looking positively joyful. What on earth had Ruben said to him?
Petra set her crocheting aside and clapped her hands. “Well! Now you two are done, I’ll set the table. Come, Cherry, pour the drinks for me.”
“Coming.” Before she followed her mother into the kitchen, Cherry pulled out her phone and replied to Maggie.
Cherry: All good. Dad seems to like him???
Magz: This one’s a real prince charming ;-)
Ruben was no stranger to high-pressure situations, but meeting Cherry’s parents had taken at least five years off his life.
Still, it was over now. And nothing had gone wrong. In fact, he thought, as he slid into the driver’s seat of his new BMW, things had gone pretty damn right.
Cherry was in the passenger seat, fussing with her hair in the visor mirror. It was late, but there was still some light in the sky. Enough to cast shadows over the soft planes of her face, the curves of her lips, her cheeks.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.
She turned to face him with a smile. Her lips were bubblegum pink. He’d spent the whole day wanting to find out if she tasted as good as she looked. But he wasn’t about to give in to that temptation. Not now. He had something important to say, and if he didn’t get the words out while he was still on a high, who knew when he’d find the courage.
“You’re quite pretty yourself,” she said. “You clean up well, Mr. Ambjørn.”
He’d never get tired of hearing that name. It really was his now, and it suited him better than his title ever had. Especially because it was who he’d been when they’d first met—or who he’d been trying to be. It had taken Cherry for him to finally become that man. A man who was truly free.
He took her hand in his. Her left hand, where his mother’s ring gleamed on her fourth finger. Neither of them had mentioned it over the last few months, in the chaos of adjusting to a new life, weathering the media attention. But every morning, when they woke up in Cherry’s flat holding hands, he felt the stones pressing against his fingers.
“When I gave you this,” he said, “I was in love with you.” He brought her hand up to his lips, kissed it softly. “I’d never been in love before. I thought the way I felt then was impossible to beat. That my heart couldn’t bear anything more intense. But I was wrong.
“Every day I spend with you, my love grows. I go to sleep thinking I can’t possibly need you more than I do in that moment. But every morning, without fail, I wake up and see you and fall all over again, harder every time. I love it. I love you. And I never want to be without you, Cherry. Not ever. I’ve given you the ring, I’ve paraded you in front of family and strangers as my fiancée, but I’ve never really asked you this before. So I’m asking now.”
He took a breath, and it felt like the first one he’d taken since starting this speech. His eyes were focused on the ring,hisring, on her finger. She hadn’t taken it off, and that meant something. It had to.
“Cherry Neita,” he said, and wondered if she could hear his voice shaking, or if it was all in his head. “I have waited my whole life for you.” He forced himself to look up, to meet her gaze as he asked, “Will you marry me?”
Her face broke into a smile. Of all the smiles he’d seen on this brilliant woman’s face,hiswoman’s face, this was the sweetest. Tears swam in her deep brown eyes, but she grinned helplessly, without restraint, joyous as the sun.
“Yes,” she said, and her voice was shaking too. “Oh, my God, yes.” She grabbed the back of his head and pulled him forward, kissing him with reckless passion, still smiling. It was probably the most awkward kiss they’d ever had, teary and laughing with teeth catching teeth, and he’d never been happier.
“Oh, Lord,” she giggled. “Did you tell my dad about this?”
Ruben shrugged, biting back a smirk. “I may have begged his daughter’s hand in marriage…”
“No wonder he likes you so much! Jesus, Ruben, what year is it?”
He pressed a kiss to her nose. “The year I marry the love of my life without her father scowling at me through the service.”
She snorted. “You’re impossible.”
“That’s why you like me so much.”
Cherry cupped a hand against his jaw. “No,” she said, her voice soft. “That’s why I love you.”
