Page 47 of Prince Material
Floris grinned, clearly enjoying my flustered state. “Shall we?”
The small boat was already half full with other tourists, cameras ready. We found seats near the back, and if we sat closer than strictly necessary, well, the bench was narrow. Floris’s thigh pressed against mine, warm even through our jeans, and I tried very hard to focus on what the guide was saying about the bayou’s ecosystem.
“The cypress trees you see around us can live for hundreds of years,” the guide explained as we pulled away from the dock. “Some of these were here long before New Orleans was founded.”
Floris leaned closer, ostensibly to hear better, but his breath tickled my ear as he whispered, “Bet none of them are as old as some of the buildings back home. We’ve got houses that predate your entire country.”
“Show off,” I muttered, but I couldn’t help smiling.
The boat glided deeper into the bayou, the morning mist creating an otherworldly atmosphere. Water lapped gently against the hull, and birds called from hidden perches in the trees. This place had always felt timeless to me, like stepping into another world where modern concerns couldn’t follow.
“There!” The guide pointed to a partially submerged log. “See that bump? That’s one of our resident alligators.”
Floris practically vibrated with excitement beside me, fumbling for his phone to take pictures. “Oh my god, it’s real. An actual alligator!”
“You’re like a kid on Christmas morning,” I teased, but his enthusiasm was infectious.
“Can you blame me? The most exciting wildlife we get athome is that murderous goose I told you about.” He snapped another picture, then turned to me with such pure joy on his face that my heart did a complicated flip.
The morning sun caught his eyes, turning them the color of spring leaves, and that curse of knowledge hit me again. How was I supposed to pretend I didn’t want to kiss him when he looked at me like that?
“What?” he asked, noticing my stare.
“Nothing.” I looked away quickly. “You’re cute when you’re excited.”
His smile softened into something more intimate. “Only when I’m excited?”
Heat crept up my neck. “You know you’re not.”
“Do I?” His voice was teasing, but there was something vulnerable underneath. “Maybe I need reminding sometimes.”
Before I could respond, the boat turned sharply, and Floris grabbed my arm to steady himself. The contact sent electricity through my skin, and I found myself hyper-aware of every point where our bodies touched.
“Look there!” The guide’s voice broke through my Floris-induced haze. “Another gator, bigger than the last one.”
This time, I got my camera out, partly to have something to do with my hands that didn’t involve touching Floris. The alligator was impressive, easily twelve feet long, sunning itself on a half-submerged log.
“The males can grow up to fifteen feet,” I explained quietly, falling back on facts to ground myself. “They’re actually pretty docile unless they’re protecting their territory or?—”
“Nesting grounds,” Floris finished with me, grinning. “I may have done some research last night.”
Of course he had. “You never do anything halfway, do you?”
“Nope.” His eyes met mine, and suddenly, we weren’t talking about alligators anymore. “When I want something, I tend to go all in.”
My breath caught. “Even if it’s complicated?”
“Especially then.” His hand found mine between us. “The best things usually are.”
The tour continued, but I was only half-listening to the guide’s explanations about the ecosystem and local folklore. Most of my attention was focused on Floris’s thumb tracing patterns on my palm, each touch sending sparks up my arm.
“You know what’s funny?” he said softly as the boat turned back toward the dock. “I’ve seen some of the most beautiful places in the world. Palaces, famous landmarks, natural wonders. But somehow, sitting here with you in a swamp boat looking at alligators feels more real than any of that.”
I turned to look at him, struck by the honesty in his voice. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” His eyes met mine, soft and sincere. “Because I’m not here as a prince fulfilling some diplomatic obligation. I’m me.”
Something warm spread inside me. “I like you being you.”
