I woke in his arms, clinging to him like he might try to escape in the night. But it was morning and somehow the smell of breakfast called to me.

Confused, I sat up, the sheets slipping from my naked body as I made eye contact with a girl about my age setting out breakfast in the dining room of our suite. Was she real?

Still confused, I grabbed the sheet as she gasped and hurried out, the door slamming behind her, proving she was real.

“Weird,” I whispered.

Who came into someone’s hotel room and made their breakfast while they slept?

Aiden moaned and slung an arm over me, knocking me back to the bed and hugging me to him. He mumbled something about sausages, no doubt smelling them.

Smiling, I slithered from his grip and out of bed, grabbing and pulling on a robe from the chaise where it was draped.

A whole breakfast was steaming hot and set up, our own mini buffet with the little candles under the trays and all.

I lifted each lid, inhaling the sweet and savory smells, making my stomach growl and grumble.

As I took a plate, I decided it was better to eat while it was fresh, and began dishing up fruit, yogurt, pastries, and coffee to start.

“That better be for me,” Aiden grumbled and sauntered into the dining room, completely naked and walking while rubbing his eyes as though he might still be asleep.

“Put your robe on, you can’t eat naked.” I gasped, although the sight of him without clothes made my entire body get warmer.

“I’m going to be king, I’ll bloody eat how I want.” He came up behind me and slipped his arms around me, kissing my neck and cheek. He sounded different now about being king, almost boastful. Maybe because he really was going to be king. And he really was going to eat breakfast naked. I didn't know how to respond to that. “Were you going to eat without me?”

“Look I need my strength. I’m starving. We didn’t eat dinner. Remember?”

“Right. There was screaming and crying, making up with some rather rushed sex, mostly on my part. I do apologize for that. Then we had a shower, and I made up for the rushed sex, I do hope I did anyway. And then we fell sleep.”

“I told you, we don’t talk about it.” I wrinkled my nose.

“You can say sex. You can say shagging. Love making. Fucking. Mating—”

“Oh my God. You have to stop. I can’t eat and talk like that, I’ll lose my appetite.” I rubbed my little muffin top. “I have to maintain my Scottish figure.”

He laughed. “I did notice you are—”

“Really?” I spun and pointed the tongs at him. “That’s where you want to be right now?”

“Filling out in the right places?” he offered weakly.

“No. Girls don’t want to fill out or gain weight or become shapely. It all means the same thing: we should probably be on that diet your dad’s on.”

Saying the word “dad” changed his mood like I’d flipped a switch, cooling off the room.

He exhaled and I swore I felt mist and ice come from him. His eyes widened and told me a story, a sad one, but his lips didn't move. They wanted to, but I suspected he didn't know how to say the words. How to let them out into the world. How to allow them to be real.

One thing was certain, when he had told me about his dad, the “moderately better” and “remission” had been lies said with a fake smile over the phone. The truth wasn't so easy to conceal in front of me.

“Oh.” I cooled my mood to match his. “I’m so sorry.” I closed the lids to the dishes and put the tongs down and wrapped myself around him. Breakfast might have to wait.

He said nothing, letting me hold him and kiss his cheek.

I clung to him until his lips started to trail from my cheek to my neck, shoving aside the robe and tracing lower on my shoulder. He held me tighter as something brushed against my stomach. I glanced down, seeing he was erect again.

When I looked back up at him, his eyes burned with emotion and desire and possibly confusion as he scooped me up and carried me to the bed. He placed me down, and crawled overtop me, kissing and pulling open my robe. His body covered mine, filling me with all the emotion he struggled with. He shared without speaking.

There was desperation and need and desire, but also sadness and emotion I wasn’t sure belonged in this moment. But they stayed.

And I welcomed them and him into me, embracing and comforting him at the same time he lit us both on fire. It was slow and fierce, smothering me with his need.

And even when it was over, he clung to me without speaking and yet I knew the story. I knew the details. Like he had somehow passed it all to me. My heart broke for him, but I remained strong, in case he needed that too.

He would be king soon.

His childhood had been fleeting and it was over. The boy I had met was now a man and the adventure was changing.

And he didn't know how to tell me, no doubt scared of my reaction to it all.

Of course, our week and my behavior hadn’t helped.

Disappointed for him and in myself, I held him tightly until the hunger became too much.

I forced him from the bed and by the time we were actually eating breakfast, he seemed better. Not as good as before I mentioned the diet and his dad, but better. He smiled and joked, glimpsing at the clock every now and then.

“What time do you have to go?” I finally asked.

“Around two. It’s half an hour to the airport. Three hours to Toulouse. And half an hour by helicopter back to Andorra. And I lose an hour. I won’t be home until eight or nine. And I have early meetings tomorrow.” He reached across the table and gripped my hand where the ring was. “Fin, I’m genuinely sorry for hurting your feelings in any way I did.”

“And I’m sorry for letting someone hit on me. I think Hattie might be right though. This relationship is still in the early stages. We’ve only known each other for like a year and a half. We need to spend time together. And we need to talk more. The odd text and random phone call isn’t helping us. It’s widening the gap that we can’t control.”

“I agree. I’m going to try to come to the US for Thanksgiving with you. And then you’ll be in Andorra for Christmas, right? We talked about that.”

“Right. My dad and Hattie are coming too.”

“What about Sheila?” He tried to hide the hint of hatred when he said her name.

“No. Dad says she’s visiting Suzzy. Apparently, she’s having Christmas with Suzzy and her fiancé’s family.”

“Oh, thank God. So Christmas will be enjoyable. And maybe until then, we could agree nightly FaceTime for half an hour, no matter what? Maybe an extra couple on the weekend?”

“That sounds good.” It didn’t. It sounded dreadful. But it would have to do. Because we were in a bind and both had to be accommodating.

After breakfast I got dressed and watched him get dressed. He was so perfect. My fingers ached with wanting to take his clothes off again. I wanted to kidnap him and make him stay here with me. Everything was better when he was here. All my crazy anxiety over us was gone. I needed to remind myself of that.

The scent of him wafted in the air around me. It would have to get me through the night tonight. His leaving was almost harder than his being away.

“There’s something else, I forgot. My cousin Bea is at the school. I told her we’d meet at her suite so I can introduce you.”

“Your cousin?” I asked skeptically. Was this a new guard?

“She’s Dee’s cousin as well. Dee comes to see her sometimes. I didn't realize Bea was going to school here.” His eyes narrowed as if he was trying to read my expression. “Don’t be annoyed. I just genuinely want you to meet someone from my family. She’s Jack’s granddaughter.”

“Oh really?” That interested me but it was weird he hadn’t mentioned her before. Why didn't he know where Jack’s granddaughter went to school?

“Yeah, but they were never close with Millie and Jack. Not like I was. Is it all right?”

“It’s fine,” I agreed and continued watching him finish the buttons on his dress shirt, forgetting all about the cousin. What I wanted had nothing to do with leaving this room, maybe ever.

“I really think you’ll like her. She and Mary are inseparable when we get together. And Mary texted her to let her know I’d be here.” He caught me staring at him and grinned. “Don't start.”

“Start what?” I asked coyly, biting my lip hard.

He walked across the room to me like a dream, dressed the same as those London boys in the financial district. Pale-blue fitted dress shirt and navy bespoke dress pants that highlighted that ass. Of course, he’d finished the outfit with stunning burnt umber crocodile shoes that shone so flawlessly I saw the reflection of the window in them. “You know what?” He lifted an eyebrow.

“I don't think I do.” I got up, wishing I’d worn something cuter than my black dress pants and lavender three-quarter-sleeve knit top with a navy cardigan. I’d dressed for old people and to look professional. Honestly, the outfit was picked out by Jess as one of my “when people start recognizing you as a royal, you need to wear lavender” options.

I pressed my hands on his chest and slid them up to wrap around his neck. I had things I wanted to say. “Don't go” was at the top of the list. But some mature whisper of a voice told me not to. He was under enough strain, he didn't need a clingy girlfriend to guilt him any more than he was suffering.

Instead, I stood on my tiptoes and pulled his face closer, pressing my lips against his. He was hesitant in kissing back.

“Fin, we can’t.” He remained rigid.

“Kiss me,” I demanded and he obliged. He started light and polite.

His hands slid around my waist, pressing me into him. I wrestled with the desire to climb him like a tree and force him to take his clothes off again, and by the tremble in his fingertips, he clearly fought it too.

His rigid body against my softness planted naughty thoughts throughout me, memories of the last eighteen hours. Our kiss went from closed mouth to caressing and deeper breathing, a soft moan escaped my lips. His fingers dug in. I lifted a leg to start the climb as his hands lowered to my ass, about to lift, encouraging me, but a knock at the door stopped us.

Through ragged breath I muttered, “No.”

“We have to go.” He kissed my forehead and stepped back, adjusting himself and wincing. “I told you not to start anything.” He seemed uncomfortable.

“Love hurts, baby.”

“Really?” He muttered something else in a chuckle as he walked to the door, opening it just enough.

“Car’s ready, sir.”

“Thanks, Isaac. We’ll be down in two.” He closed the door and turned back to me.

“I’ll meet you at the dorms.” I folded my arms, instantly out of my good mood. Reality was a bat to the face with him.

“We’re not discussing this. You’re getting in the car. I’m not wasting a moment I have left with you.” He wasn't negotiating. But neither was I.

“I’ll walk fast and meet you there. You can supervise the guys getting their shit packed while I’m walking over.”

“They’ve already done it, Fin. Please don't make this harder than it needs to be. Remember when I said sometimes you overreact? You’re doing it again.”

Before I growled vengeful responses, I took a quick journey through the conversation, checking for my being difficult and found nothing. I was right. I shouldn't have to be subjected to the guards anymore.

That horrible person, the angelic side of my conscience who sounded eerily similar to Jess, whispered that he’d made them clear out their rooms already so I should give a little. “Fine. So long as their rooms are completely gutted, and they wait for you elsewhere.”

“Wait. Was that a compromise?” He tilted his head, acting as though I’d caught him off guard. “Did we just—how do you always say that?—right, adulting. Did we just adult?”

“You suck.” I grabbed my purse and strode to the door as he got it for me. He left his bags behind, packing nothing and not tidying up a single sock.

He was getting worse.