Page 112 of Fake Fae-Ancée

I snapped awake.

And stared at the face in front of me. Sharp-edged features. Long sooty lashes. A barely healed cut on his cheek covered with a makeshift band-aid. Most likely, he’d done that himself. Sloppy as ever.

Basically, this was how the whole thing had started weeks ago. Me, him, a bed.

Only this time I remembered everything.

And he was wide awake and looking at me out of dark eyes.

"Hey, little star."

I blinked. What was the king of the Bears doing in my bed? And why had he put his heavy-ass arm around me? It probably wasn't very good that I was dreaming about my ex-husband. Because this was clearly a dream. But a warm, fluttering ache that felt all too real spread through my chest.

He kissed me on the forehead, and I melted against his familiar warmth. No, it wasn’t good. But at the same time so nice, waking up like this, even if it probably was a dream, with his body keeping me warm, his bicep as a pillow under my head and his heartbeat steady under where I touched his chest…

No, this wasn’t a dream.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I brushed his cheek with my knuckles. His stubble scraped at my skin. Feeling far too real and solid.

He gave me a lopsided smile. "What does it look like? I’m watching my wife sleep."

My sleepy brain came awake at that. No, this wasn’t a dream. And I wasn’t sleeping. So I told him the one fundamental truth that remained.

"I’m not your wife anymore."

I pulled back my hand, but he caught it in his giant one, his thumb stroking over my palm. I sighed. I didn’t have the strength to fight him anymore. Neither did I want to. I was just so damn glad to see him, even if this was highly inappropriate. Probably. I had no idea about the bed-etiquette other people held with their ex-spouses.

"And you can wipe that smug grin off your face right now," I added, but lacking my usual fervor.

"You’re not happy to see me at all?" he asked, his lopsided smile fading.

"I kinda am happy to see you," I muttered, giving in and snuggling deeper into his embrace. "Dumbass."

I couldn't even think. Had no idea how long I’d been asleep. But I was so relieved that he was here next to me, warm and alive and reassuring, and not cold and dead and lost forever in a chapel somewhere in Helsinki. He was here and with me and fuck the rest. So I burrowed up in his arms, cupped his stubbled cheeks with one hand and kissed him.

That was the kiss I had wanted to give him since the angry mob had found us in the chapel and had led us out of the palace, shouting and cheering. Everything had happened so quickly. And I hadn't even been able to say goodbye to him…

He pulled me closer, I snaked my arms around his neck and the kiss grew deeper, more open, and now this was no longer a dream but achingly real.

A few seconds passed like that before I wrenched myself off him.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing." Yuri growled, his face hovering close next to mine, one rough thumb gently brushing my jaw.

"I live here." I tilted my head which made him smile again. Damn, did I like that smile.

"Last time I checked, you had moved in with me," Yuri said. "Remember all those boxes full of stuff and that deal we closed and the epic fight we had?"

"Cut the crap. Why are you here? Why aren't you in Finland right now with your Bears, freezing off your balls while kinging?"

He cleared his throat, scratching his broad neck. "Technically they're Nicolai's bears now."

I stared. Blinked. "What??"

"If you had waited just a little bit longer before you took off to the airport without another word and let me finish my abdication, you wouldn't need to ask me so many questions right now."

"You abdicated?"

---