EPILOGUE

 

 

“There he is, the man of the hour!”

At his brother’s cry, Kristoff jerked in surprise. Cass tightened her grip on his hand and pulled him into the room in the police station where the Royal family had gathered after they were evacuated from their yacht.

Mack was standing beside the door, and he gave Kristoff a mighty whack on his shoulder, while Dad hurried across the room to wrap his arms around Cass. She let go of Kristoff’s hand just in time.

In typical William Hayes fashion, her father forgot he wasn’t thirty and she wasn’t three, and tried to lift her up off the ground. It was only Viggo’s quick reaction which kept them both from slamming into the doorjamb.

“I was so worried about you, Jellybean,” Dad said, when he finally set her upright.

She could see the truth of that in his expression, and strove to make light of it. “Everything was cool, Dad. Kristoff saved the day.”

“I toggled a switch,” Kristoff said dryly, coming up to stand behind her.

She didn’t miss a beat, but nodded earnestly at her father. “A very important switch.”

“So I heard,” Dad said. Then he sighed and held out his hand to Kristoff. “Thank you for keeping her safe. And for saving such a beautiful ship.”

Cass swore Kristoff flushed slightly as he shook her father’s hand. “No worries, Dr. Hayes.”

“Pops,” Dad corrected.

Kristoff stared at the man for a moment, then nodded. “Pops.”

It felt somehow momentous, as if the two men had accepted one another. Dad gave her a peck on the cheek, then moved back across the room to take the queen in his arms. Cass snaked her arm around Kristoff’s middle, and liked the way he pulled her closer.

From his spot on the couch, where he sat between Emma and Marina—both holding blankets around their shoulders, and his arm around Emma—Arne nodded at Kristoff. “You did good work.”

Kristoff snorted. “You guys were the ones saving kids and—and—” He waved his free hand around. “Being heroes. I literally just toggled a switch.”

Cass nudged him with her hip. “An important switch,” she repeated.

Alek spoke up from his chair by the wall, where Toni stood beside him protectively, her hand on his shoulder. “We had word from Captain Nilssen about what happened, while you two were on your way over. It sounds like without your intervention, the yacht might very well have sunk, even with people left on board.”

If it had sunk, it wouldn’t have sunk very far, but Cass wasn’t going to point that out. It would’ve totally messed up the ship, even if everyone had gotten out. Salt water was a bitch to clean out of gilded wallpaper, no question.

But because she could tell it was making Kristoff uncomfortable to be the center of attention—which is why he’d come up with the scheme to give the money to Enriching Children in private in the first place—Cass changed the subject. “Did anyone catch the guy Kristoff said he saw sneaking out?”

Queen Viktoria frowned and shook her head. “Without you two on hand, there was no way of identifying him. So many people were fleeing the yacht—I feel just terrible. The police are interviewing those who are left, and we’ve put out a request for information, of course, but Maarten says he’s not hopeful they’ll find anything.”

Johan was staring out the small window. “What I don’t understand,” he said without turning, “Is what this person was attempting to accomplish.”

“Assassination,” Toni said promptly.

Johan shook his head, the same way Alek did. Mack was the one who explained, though. “The yacht was moored. It might’ve flooded on the way to the harbor floor, but it’s hard to imagine any of us would be hurt. It was clumsy, if assassination was the intention.”

“Not clumsy; inept,” sneered Marina from her place beside Arne, looking miserable.

Dad had his arm around the queen. “So what was this guy’s plan? Just to make the royal family look bad?”

The man was standing there, his glasses pushed up on top of his head and his grey hair in total disarray, his bowtie twisted, one side of his shirt untucked, and his shoes off…and he was worried about someone else making the royal family look bad? When she heard Kristoff’s quiet snort of laughter, she knew he was thinking the same thing, and had to fight to swallow her smile.

From his spot by the door, Viggo sighed. “We thought he’d attack the Regatta if he’d been trying to hurt our reputation, remember?”

“Like you need any help in that department,” Johan called, the teasing second nature to those two.

“At least I have a reputation,” Viggo shot back.

The queen raised a brow. “Boys,” she said in a warning tone.

The twins were far from boys, but they both shot her a guilty look, and Viggo cleared his throat.

“He wasn’t trying to hurt us, or our reputation…he was trying to stop or delay the wedding.”

Alek rolled his eyes suddenly. “Of course. By attacking the yacht, this was just one more step in whoever’s plan it was to keep Mother from remarrying.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Emma spoke up. “You’d just have the wedding elsewhere. We managed the concert fine, even with the sabotage.”

“I don’t know…” Dad frowned. “It’s a really nice yacht.”

More than one of the princes had to turn away to hide their smiles, and the queen patted Dad’s cheek.

“I would marry you in a barn, my love…but I do admit I love the idea of the wedding on the yacht.”

“So each time this guy strikes against us, we get more clues as to his identity.” Toni rocked forward. “And tonight Kristoff actually saw him. Does anyone know where Marcia Lindqvist was tonight?”

Alek rolled his eyes slightly and said, “Not this again?”

At the same time Marina sat forward sharply. “You can’t possibly still suspect her, can you?”

Toni shrugged. “I just think she’s hiding something, and I don’t like it.”

It was Viggo who stepped forward to say, “Marcia doesn’t have anything to do with this,” in a voice which told everyone to drop the subject.

Toni watched the fifth prince for a long moment before nodding once and changing the subject. “Is it public knowledge that you’re planning the wedding on the yacht?”

“No.” Alek frowned up at her thoughtfully. “Not at all.”

Kristoff finally spoke. “The wedding planner would know.”

When he glanced significantly at her, Cass knew what he was thinking, and shook her head slightly. Britta’s terror had been too real to believe she’d been involved, and her brother had been there in the ballroom right before Cass had followed Kristoff into the corridor.

Several members of the family began speaking at once, but were silenced when Marina’s phone buzzed. She scrambled for her purse, and pulled it out, pursing her lips as she read the text.

“Well, speaking of Britta…” Her eyes flicked over the screen. “Apparently tonight was the last straw, and Jensen Events is no longer at our services.” She scowled and dropped the phone back into her purse. “The ungrateful wretch.”

Johan turned from his spot by the window, his mouth already pulling down into a frown. “The wedding is six weeks away and our wedding planner just quit?”

“Good riddance,” Kristoff snorted beside her.

Cass blushed, thinking about why Britta had quit. She probably thought she’d won Kristoff fair and square, and was pissed he hadn’t seen it that way. It was Cass’s fault, for agreeing to that stupid bet in the first place.

“What do we do now?” Arne looked a little frantic.

Marina straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. “This is a family affair, and always has been. There’s no need to involve outsiders—Aegirian or not, ungrateful brats or not. I’ll do it.”

“Plan the wedding?” Arne asked.

“I’m a royal princess. There’s nothing I can’t accomplish if I put my mind to it.” She deflated just the tiniest amount and glanced at her favorite nephew. “You’ll help, won’t you?”

Arne smiled. “We’ll all help.”

Beside Cass, Kristoff was shifting his weight from one foot to the other, anxious about something. “Well, hey, since that’s all taken care of…”

He trailed off when all the eyes in the room turned to him, and he smiled. This one she recognized as his “attempt at charming” but came off more as “sheepish with a touch of embarrassment.”

She squeezed his middle.

“Yes?” His mother asked imperiously.

“Well…” Kristoff shrugged. “I mean, I just figured, being the heroes of the hour and all that, you might not mind if Cass and I slipped away.” He moved his hand from her shoulder to her back. “We’ve got some things to…ah…discuss.”

The queen eyed the two of them, standing so close together, and muttered a dry, “Yes, I can see you do.”

Cass blushed.

From the doorway, Viggo mock-whispered, “See if you can figure out why she sabotaged your boat today.”

Cass blushed harder, but when she looked up at Kristoff, he was grinning, and his eyes were full of love.

“I know why,” he said simply.

“Yes, go,” Mack said with a chuckle. “Before you make us all sick.”

And they would’ve, except Marina stopped them with a muttered, “Another American.”

Toni cleared her throat, and Alek stood. “Think carefully, Aunt Marina.”

The older woman scoffed. “It’s becoming a little suspicious, frankly. You and you” —she waved to her oldest nephew and her sister— “falling in love with Americans is bad enough, but then Arne? And now we’re supposed to believe Kristoff is interested in his stepsister?”

“I’m not interested in her,” Kristoff protested. “I love her.”

When Marina scoffed, a chorus of “Is that legal?” and “It’s about time!” and “I don’t blame him” rang out from her nephews. Cass managed to blush even harder. She was sure she looked like a little round tomato.

It was Dad who spoke up to quiet the concerns. “Arguments of consanguinity are irrelevant here, people.” He winked at her while he parroted her defense from all those days ago. “They’re two consenting adults and how they spend their time is independent from however their parents chose to spend their time.” He squeezed Queen Viktoria. “They’re not related by blood or legality.”

That had been more-or-less exactly what she’d said to her father to explain why she’d planned on screwing Prince Kristoff’s brains out. It was a little embarrassing he’d been listening so well.

Marina wasn’t convinced, judging by the way she waved her hand dismissively. “She’s a masseuse. Surely that’s not what we want for the royal family?”

Emma gasped, and at least three of the princes frowned…and Cass felt herself wilt inside. Years of self-esteem issues, and here a royal princess was telling her she wasn’t good enough for a prince?

But then Kristoff shifted so both of his arms were around her, right there in front of his family, and she looked up into his gorgeous grey eyes. He smiled down at her, and she saw the love in his expression.

He loved her—he’d said it tonight, several times. And if Kristoff could love her, then it didn’t matter how clumsy or overweight or adorkable she might be, she was worthy.

“Excuse me, Princess Marina.” From the corner of her eyes, Cass saw her Dad straighten, and his words were clipped. “But there’s nothing wrong with being a massage therapist. She provides a valuable service.”

Kristoff winked and whispered, “Damn right you do.”

Dad continued, “And not that it’s relevant, but my daughter holds a Master’s Degree from the University of Massachusetts Boston. Her research has been featured in four scholarly journals.”

“Really?” Arne sounded impressed. “What field?”

Kristoff’s grin was proud and feral and sexy all at once, when he answered his brother.

“Viking men.”

They were both laughing as he pulled her out of the room, and they jogged down the corridor hand-in-hand. He pulled her into a little niche formed by a window and a corner, and wrapped his arms around her.

“I love you,” he whispered down to her.

“And I love you.” Her smile felt watery. “But I have to apologize properly. For what I did today.”

“On the Älskvärd?” He grinned wryly. “It was worth it. Mack made me see reason, and if you hadn’t run off so quick after the race, I would’ve understood even sooner. By throwing the race for me—something I wasn’t going to do, and you knew that—I can now demand Hans Jensen gift the money to Enriching Children. Everything I’ve heard about him says he’s a man of his word and will honor the bet.”

“I’m sorry I made the decision for you, though. I should’ve asked…”

He just pulled her closer. “I would’ve tried to talk you out of it, and you knew that. You saw the best course of action, and took it. Thank you.”

“I lost the race for you, maybe damaged your boat, and you’re thanking me?”

“I’m thanking you for saving me from that stupid bet I made. The stupid bet you made, on the other hand…”

At his mock-scowl, Cass groaned and dropped her forehead to his chest. “I’m sorry for that, too. I made it last week, and I—I…I dunno. Britta suggested it, and all I could think was that maybe a strong, sexy, talented prince like you deserved someone as perfect as she is.” Cass peeked up at him. “I honestly didn’t think you’d consider her too old.”

He shrugged, his grin still in place. “I wouldn’t, if she were a nicer person. But it sure shut her up and got her out of our lives, didn’t it?”

Cass couldn’t help but return his grin. “So you forgive me?”

“Well, I forgive you, but I don’t know about the Älskvärd. You did rush off in an awful hurry, and I think that forward bunk needed a little attention.”

Pressed against him as she was, Cass could feel exactly what kind of “attention” he meant. “Oh, really?” she purred, and stretched up to wrap her arms around his neck. “It sounds serious.”

“There was a lot of anxiety on that boat today, Cass,” he said seriously. “I’m going to need your help to wipe it all away.”

“Only good memories, you mean?” She stretched until their lips were almost touching.

“The very best,” he breathed.

“I haven’t been kissed in hours.”

When he reached down to scoop her up in his arms, she squealed and threw her arms around him. “Then allow me to help you with your research m’lady, if you’ll help me re-christen the Älskvärd.”

Laughing, her arms around his neck, Cass held on as he strode out of the police station for a waiting car. “Research?”

“Viking men,” he stressed with a suggestive eyebrow waggle.

“So you’re dragging me away from a meeting with your family to—to what, exactly?” She giggled.

“Isn’t it obvious? We’re going back to my boat, and I’m going to make love to you.” He was laughing by now, too.

She placed a kiss on the side of his neck. “Oh no, my handsome prince. This time I’m making love to you. For research, you know.”

And so she did.

 

 

 

 

You can find all The Royal Wedding books .

Three princes have found their loves, and three are left. We’re halfway to the royal wedding, so what else could possibly go wrong? Find out in Merry Farmer’s The Pilot’s Prince!

 

 

The Royal Wedding books:

, by Caroline Lee

, by Merry Farmer

THE STEPSISTER’S PRINCE, by Caroline Lee

THE PILOT’S PRINCE, by Merry Farmer

THE INTROVERT’S PRINCE, by Caroline Lee

THE JOURNALIST’S PRINCE, by Merry Farmer

 

 

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ACKNLOWEDGEMENTS

Every morning, Merry Farmer and I start a conversation—about how we slept, her cats, my kids, or what we’re planning for lunch—and we don’t stop. Writing is a lonely profession, and I’m lucky to have someone who’s willing to chat with me, even if it’s online. Our historical romance worlds overlap (my series and her series are constantly sharing characters and locations), so it was only a matter of time before we finally decided to write together. I’m grateful to her as a critique partner, a writing partner, and a friend.

 

And thank you to Alyssa, who is an incredible developmental editor, to my beta readers and Cohort members (who helped name half these characters), and to Julie Tague, the most supportive proofreader ever.

 

 

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

 

Caroline Lee has been reading romance for so long that her fourth-grade teacher used to make her cover her books with paper jackets. But it wasn't until she (mostly) grew up that she realized she could write it too. So she did.

 

Caroline is living her own little Happily Ever After in NC with her husband, sons, and brand-new daughter, Princess Wiggles. And while she doesn't so much "suffer" from Pittakionophobia as think that all you people who enjoy touching Band-Aids and stickers are the real weirdos, she does adore rodents, and never met a wine she didn't like. Caroline was named Time Magazine's Person of the Year in 2006 and is really quite funny in person. Promise.

 

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