“This is the best breakfast I’ve ever had.” Sadly, however, my stomach was too full to eat another bite.

Nico set down his cup of coffee. “Are you saying that this hotel in the heart of this loud, crowded city makes better breakfast than the royal palace of my homeland?”

“Umm… yes?”

“I agree,” Nico said, and I laughed. “Though when you think about it, shouldn’t a castle outrank a hotel, even a swanky one like this?”

“Seems like it would if this were a chess game.”

Nico took a huge bite of the crispest bacon imaginable. Over his shoulder, I saw someone coming toward us. “Incoming.”

He groaned softly, putting the bacon down. So far this morning, the hotel manager, an investment banker, and a family of tourists had come over to talk to us. Well, to talk to Nico.

This time, however, it was someone I’d met before—Thompson, the head of the security detail Nico had booked for our trip. At Nico’s invitation, he sat down next to us, a phone in his hand.

“May we talk about the logistics for today, sir?” Though professional, Thompson didn’t seem to want to draw attention to Nico by using his title.

“Yes. I’ve got another day of meetings.”

“The same place as yesterday?” Thompson asked.

“No, first at a bank and then an office across the river.” Nico told him the addresses. Thompson typed into his phone.

“And for you, Miss Andrews? Back to the Hugo Theater?”

“Not today, thank you.” The Hugo was the theater where Frankie worked. I’d spent hours there yesterday, catching up with him, touring the costume shop and sitting in on a rehearsal. It had been a fantastic day.

“What do you plan to do today, miss?”

“I’m not sure. Perhaps some sightseeing?”

“Why don’t you wait until tomorrow until I can go with you?” Nico said, his hand on my forearm. Then he turned to Thompson. “Could you give us a moment?” The man nodded and left.

“It would be great to go together,” I agreed. “Sightseeing is not as enjoyable with just a two-man security detail trailing you.”

“I’m sorry,” Nico said, his voice gentle. “I know it’s not much fun, but I always need more security when I travel abroad. And I thought the twins would be here, so I booked more men than usual.”

He was just concerned about safety, I knew that. Still, it felt a bit stifling. “Since it’s just us, can we cut back a little? It’s been okay so far.”

“That’s probably because they haven’t figured out I’m here yet.”

“They?”

“The paparazzi. They can get really aggressive in London. I’ve seen it get bad before. They’ll shove you, insult you or your companions… they’ll do anything they can to get a reaction out of you so that they can snap a picture. It can get pretty ugly.”

I sighed, lost in memories for a moment. I’d never experienced anything that bad, but Autumn and Ford had fallen under the press’s scrutiny a few times and it hadn’t been pleasant. “Maybe I’ll just stay in today.”

“That’s an idea,” Nico said. “They’ve got everything here. A spa, hairstylists, even a boutique. You can get a new dress and get your hair done.”

“That kind of stuff’s not usually my thing.”

“Ah, but I forgot to tell you the best part. Once you spend the day pampering yourself, then a prince will show up and take you to the most amazing dinner of your life.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” he said, picking up my hand and kissing the back of it.

“Do I get my choice of princes? Because I’ve always been partial to Harry’s red hair.”

Nico rolled his eyes and bit the tip of my index finger lightly. “Be good,” he said with a growl.

“Make me,” I answered back.

“I might… tonight. But first, I’ve got some meetings across town. I’d say enjoy making yourself look beautiful today, but you already look beautiful. So enjoy relaxing and not having to climb up to the roof to look at pigeons.”

I laughed. “That does sound like a good day.”

Nico gestured, and Thompson returned to our table. I got to my feet as he arrived.

“Have a wonderful day, Liebling.” Nico’s voice was full of warmth as he said the term of endearment. I’d looked it up when he started using it a week or two ago. Various sites translated it as either darling or favorite.

Both of those sounded good to me.

Our limo pulled up in front of a Michelin-starred French restaurant in Central London. The area was amazing—I couldn’t stop staring at the architecture, the lights, and the people. But Nico wasn’t looking out the windows as I was.

“Have I told you how amazing you look tonight?”

“A time or two,” I said, feeling warmth rise to my cheeks. He’d actually mentioned it more times than that, which was both flattering and embarrassing.

Though I hadn’t had anyone do my hair and makeup since Autumn’s wedding, I’d gotten the works today—manicure, pedicure, facial, and hairstyling. Nico had seen me bundled up in jeans and sweaters, but he’d never seen me at my best.

I’d asked the stylist to make me look as elegant as possible. People usually said I was cute or pretty—but tonight I wanted to look refined and classy on Nico’s arm. My hair was swept up in an updo. My makeup was nuanced but tasteful. And my dress—oh, the dress was the best part. It was a pale rose, strapless with a flared skirt. I’d also bought the tallest heels I could find, and a small clutch bag. A delicate lace shawl was the only thing covering my bare shoulders. It was late May and the weather was fairly mild… I didn’t think I’d be too cold.

Though I’d spent all day on my appearance, Nico had simply returned from his meeting and showered, shaved, and put on a suit. Yet when I saw him earlier, I’d almost forgotten how to breathe. The elegant black suit made him look like a fashion model, movie star, or—let’s face it—a Greek god. I’d never, ever seen a man look so incredible. That was one of the reasons I kept studying the view out the window on the ride over—looking directly at him almost made me feel faint.

Thompson got out first, he and one of his men scanning the crowd on the sidewalk before he opened the door. Nico exited the car gracefully and then held his hand out for me. People on the sidewalk gawked as we walked by. I doubt they knew who Nico was, but they could see how gorgeous he looked. A few people pulled out their phones and snapped pictures.

The restaurant was unbelievably good, but the sight of Nico sitting across from me was more tempting than what was on my plate. It was a magical night—at least until Thompson appeared toward the end of the meal and said, “Sir, we’ve got a problem.”

“What is it?”

“There are a dozen photographers out front.”

“Shit,” Nico muttered under his breath. “Why now? I’m out of the limelight—I’m old news.”

“That’s precisely the point, sir. Until two years ago, you were a favorite target of the press, but then you completely disappeared. You’ve been off everyone’s radar, but now that you’re here, they sense a story.”

Nico cursed again. “We’re just having dinner. What’s so newsworthy about that?”

Thompson looked at me, and I could tell he was refraining from speaking freely. Nico knew, too. “Out with it, Thompson.”

“I think the issue is Miss Andrews.”

“Me?” What did I do?

Nico must’ve understood, though, because he put his hand to his temple and closed his eyes.

“Sir, when you lived in the US, you were often photographed with your late wife. Once the paparazzi got a tip that you were here with a woman—well… that definitely counts as newsworthy.”

Nico’s eyes flew open and he slammed his fist on the table, causing other diners to stare. “It’s my life, not a story.”

Thompson looked uncomfortable. “Sir, we talked about this possibility when you first discussed coming to London.”

I reached my hand out to Nico, but he didn’t take it. I didn’t have the slightest clue what to do… this was a world I knew very little about.

“May I suggest that you and Miss Andrews leave separately? At least they won’t get pictures of you together.”

“My wife’s been gone for over two years. All we’re doing is having dinner. What the hell is wrong with that?”

Thompson didn’t flinch at the anger or the pain in Nico’s voice. “You mentioned before about doing everything possible to keep your children out of the spotlight. Might I suggest that you employ the same policy for Miss Andrews?”

Nico sighed, looking defeated. “Yes. Meet her out back with one of the cars. I’ll go out the front and—”

“No.”

Both men looked at me in surprise.

“You’re right,” I told Nico. “We’re just having dinner. There’s nothing wrong with that. If we separate, won’t it look like we’re hiding something?”

“Maybe,” Thompson admitted.

“So let’s go out together. We’re two good friends who had dinner. That’s not exactly an exciting headline.”

Nico’s face was hard. “All right. I’ll be on one side of Cara, and you stay on the other,” he said to Thompson.

“Me? But you’re the prince.”

“Lower your voice,” Nico hissed. Several people were looking in our direction. And someone took a few pictures of the three of us with their phone.

“She’s right, Sir, it’s you we need to—”

“No fucking way. I haven’t forgotten what they can be like. Your men go out first, clear a path. Then you stay on Cara’s right, I’ll be on her left. You don’t leave her side until we’re safely in the suite at the hotel.”

“Yes, sir.” Thompson didn’t look happy, but he agreed.

And me? I didn’t know what the hell to think. Could it really get as bad as Nico said it could? It didn’t seem likely—but the butterflies doing backflips in my stomach implied otherwise.

The sick feeling inside intensified when we were standing in front of the door, ready to plunge into the crowd of reporters on the front walk.

“Just keep going, and it’ll be okay,” Nico said, bending his head to whisper in my ear. His hand was firmly on my left arm.

Thompson was on the other side. His men pushed through the door and there was an explosion of sound and lights. The men propelled me forward, and I was grateful because I seemed to have forgotten how to walk. The shouting, the questions, the flashbulbs… I wanted to run back inside and hide under the table.

“Who’s the girl, Nico?”

“When did you switch to blondes?”

“Do your kids know daddy’s dating?”

It was awful. The voices, the lights were everywhere. “Keep moving!” Nico’s command was only audible over the din because he was right next to me. Thompson pushed against me as we were jostled from all sides.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Where’d you meet?”

“What’s he like in bed, honey?”

Sickened, I kept going, propelled by the men on either side of me. The limo door ahead of us was open, but there was a moment of confusion as the security detail tried to push Nico in first, but he refused, ushering me ahead. I all but fell onto the car seat, landing on my side before straightening up and scooting over to make room for Nico.

The door slammed behind him. The noise and flashes of light were still there, but muted. As the limo glided away, Nico wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close to him.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his lips against my hair. “Sorry you had to go through that.”

My hand shook as it sought out his, seeking reassurance, not just that it was over, but that he was okay. Though he was trying to comfort me, I could hear the rage in his voice.

By the time we’d taken the elevator to the penthouse, I’d almost stopped trembling. Nico led me to my room. “I’ll be back in a minute. Do you need anything?”

“No, I’m fine,” I said, my voice calm and collected. The sharp look Nico gave me, however, made me suspect he knew that years of theater training meant I could make my voice sound like anything—even something I wasn’t feeling.

After he left, I stepped out of my heels and took off my earrings, but I didn’t go far. I could hear Nico just outside the door, talking to Thompson. No, not talking—shouting. I could see them through the peephole, but the door was too thick to hear much of what they were saying. One thing was clear though—the prince was really angry.

When Thompson strode off, I waited a minute and then opened the door. “Nico?”

“Sorry about that,” he said.

“You don’t have to apologize. Come in and let’s talk about this.”

He didn’t move. “But I do owe you an apology. It was supposed to be a nice evening out for us.”

“And it was, until the end. Dinner was amazing.”

Nico was staring past me, lost in thought. At last, he gave his head a little shake and focused on me.

“You really did look gorgeous tonight,” Nico murmured, placing his hands on my shoulders and pressing his forehead against mine. A heavy feeling settled in my stomach that had nothing to do with the scary throng of photographers before. It took me a moment to figure out what was wrong, and then I realized—he’d used the past tense. As if our night was over.

I smiled, trying to ease the concern etched on his face. “What happened tonight was upsetting, but we can still salvage the evening. You look so handsome in that suit. Maybe we could go up to the roof and see the stars.”

Nico’s eyes lowered, and he shook his head.

“Or we could stay in. You’ve got the penthouse suite, it’s not necessary to go anywhere.”

“Cara—”

“Please, Nico, we’re almost halfway through our time in London. Let’s not waste tonight.” I tried to inject a playful note. “Let’s not waste how hot we look tonight.”

One corner of his lip rose, but it wasn’t his usual sexy half-smile. Instead, he just looked sad. He released me and took a step back. “It’s been a long day. I’m going to check in with Gretchen and then get some sleep. See you at breakfast in the morning?”

Silently, I nodded.

“Good night, Cara.”

For the first time in a long time, my voice failed me. It wasn’t until he’d shut the door and left that I managed to say, “Good night, Nico.”