Page 86 of Sweet Royal Romance Suspense

“How early did you make it?”

“Seven.”

“And it’s ten?” She hurried across the open room to stand in front of him, putting her hand on his arm and making him warm and forgetful. “I’m terribly sorry, Curt. Tomorrow you wake me up when you wake, and we’ll make breakfast together. You won’t have to waste your day waiting around for the likes of me.”

“I don’t mind,” he rushed to say. He had minded. A lot. He’d been impatient and questioning himself and now … he didn’t mind at all.

“Well, I mind. Let me eat right quick and clean up and then we’ll …” She looked around. “What will we do? We can’t go explore those gorgeous mountains, can we?”

“No,” he admitted. “We need to keep you safe and let your brain heal.”

“Darn it,” she muttered, but then her bright smile came out. “That’s all right. It’s right as rain. I’m forever grateful and blessed that you’re hosting me and giving up your time to watch over me.”

“Happy to do it.”

“Will you join me for a second breakfast for you and then we’ll make this a right fun day? We sure will.”

“That sounds perfect.” Curt suspected any time spent with Aliya would be a ‘right fun day.’

They ate and cleaned up together. He told her about most of his conversations with Ray, Steffan, and the guards, only leaving out the parts about how he wanted to but couldn’t fall for her.

She told him about her schooling and her work as an elementary teacher. The love she felt for her pupils was touching. Curt imagined she was a ray of light and the most sought-after teacher at the school.

Aliya determined she had to do chores to ‘earn her keep.’ Curt didn’t want her to, but he had admitted to her that Steffan said light exercise would be good for her. They dusted wood surfaces, washed glass and mirrors, and polished stainless steel. She finally agreed that she’d done enough for today and she requested any playing cards and board games he had.

He brought everything out of the cupboard. Curt was amazed at this woman’s resilience, fabulous attitude, and the ingenuity and time-using ability of an elementary school teacher. For the next eight hours, they played every board game he had and every card game she could make up with face cards and Uno cards. Every time either of them won a game, they both had to take two laps through both levels of the house, hold a different yoga pose for a minute, her usually teasing him about ‘doin’ it wrong,’ and then whoever won got to give the other person a physical challenge or have them answer a question—loser’s choice.

Curt was amazed at how much fun he had. He was stuck in his own home, which usually only happened with the worst of storms and drove him insane. With the inventive, funny, sweet, and beautiful Aliya here, it wasn’t a punishment. She kept them rotating through games and often taught him games he’d never heard of but thoroughly enjoyed. It was the best time he’d had since the carefree days of growing up roaming the castle and the mountains with his brothers when his family was whole and happy. When he’d been whole and happy.

They chatted about her family and his while they played the games, what growing up in a small town in the American South was like, what growing up in a castle in the Alps was like, what being a prince was like, what being a ‘hick’ was like. He loved the way she talked and phrased things. He loved being around her. She made him laugh and forget that he was stuck inside. She was his sunshine and vitamin D.

They took breaks to make and eat lunch and dinner and clean up. The sun disappeared behind the trees and mountains. Throughout the day as they played all of her games, they’d both opted for the physical challenge if they lost. He wanted any extra movement and loved it when she issued some challenge like ‘give me twenty pushups’ and then she’d ooh and ahh about how fit and impressive he was. He’d made hers ‘easier than a possum climbin’ a tree.’ He kept having to remind her she was only cleared for light physical activity.

As night came, they each started opting for a question. The questions started simple: favorites, pet peeves, and most embarrassing moments, etc. Then she hit him with, “How many girls and women have you kissed?”

He had to think about it. “Seven.”

“Seven?” She hooted out a laugh. “Seven!”

Curt reared back. Aliya wasn’t one to make fun of someone. “What’s wrong with seven? How many boys and men have you kissed?”

“First, seven is pathetic. You’re an ultra-hot prince. You should have kissed dozens upon dozens of women. Do you beat them off with a stick?”

He smiled and shook his head. She’d called him pathetic but also ultra-hot in the same breath.

“Second, it’s not your turn to ask a question.” She winked and set up a card game she called Golf. He was sure she made up the rules as she went.

Curt had to win so he could ask the next question. He lost. After their two laps and holding upward dog for a minute, she smiled at him with a twinkle in her brown eyes. “Physical challenge or question?”

He wanted to say physical challenge, but he liked her teasing him. “Question.”

“Yes!” She rubbed her hands together. “Tell me about the best kiss of your life.”

Curt’s stomach hopped. He didn’t want to tell her about kissing someone else. All he could think about was kissing her. She acted so great—incredible, really. Was she truly vulnerable because she was suffering from a head injury? Would it be taking advantage to kiss her?

“First, that’s not a question. That’s a demand.”

“Oh, boy.” She rolled her eyes. “Okay, what was the best kiss of your life? Where did it occur and with whom?” She tried to fake an Augustine accent, and it made him smile. “Oh, and how long did it last?” She pumped her eyebrows suggestively.

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