Well, now, isn’t life funny? Two weeks ago, I was on my way to my parents’ on the bus, mud on my pants, freezing cold, and wishing I had a nice man with a little hybrid to drive me there. And now, I’m sitting in the back of a stretch limo, fantastically warm, clean and dry, next to a prince who snogged me senseless this morning, while his driver makes his way to my parents’ neighbourhood.

I finally figured out what impossibly handsome means. It’s when a man is so absolutely handsome that it’s impossible not to stare. He’s answering emails on his phone right now, so I can gaze at him all I want and he won’t see me. Just to give you a mental image, picture a crazy hot Viking sex god wearing jeans and a light blue button-down shirt that matches his eyes. And as an extra bonus, his sleeves are rolled up three-quarters so I have a view of those muscles in his forearms.

“You’re being rather unproductive right now,” he says without looking up.

“Should I be working?”

“That would be up to you, but it would be helpful if you weren’t staring at me.” He looks up and grins. “If you keep doing that, it’ll mean I’ll keep thinking about why you are staring, which will mean I’ll take much longer than necessary to reply to this email, which means that it will take that much longer before I can give you my full attention.”

“Well, we can’t have that.” I pull out my phone and text Nikki.

Me: Guess where I am?

Her: On a bus on your way to your parents’ place?

Me: In the back of a limo with Prince Arthur on the way to my parents’.

Her: SCREEEEAAAMMMMMM! Are you serious? Stop by here on your way! Please, please, please!

Me: No way. You’ll chain him up and keep him like that lady in that Stephen King book.

Her: Maybe, but I promise not to hobble him. Please? We could share. There’s definitely enough of him to go around.

Me: How’s your nose?

Her: Good point. Don’t bring him today. Maybe in two weeks? I should be fine by then.

Me: That will also allow you suitable time to purchase chains and duct tape.

Her: Now, you’re talking. Wait a minute, he’s going to your parents’ with you? For the twins’ birthday party?

Me: Yup. His idea.

Her: He’s really pulling out all the stops to win you over.

Me: You have no idea.

Her: What?! Dish. Now!

Me: Nothing, he’s just very accommodating.

Her: OMG! HOW accommodating?

“Ben, can you stop here, please? At this store on the right?” Arthur asks.

“Yes, sir.”

Me: Gotta run. Fill you in later.

Her: You better.

I toss my phone in my bag, suddenly feeling very guilty about both implying anything at all to Nikki and not telling her the whole truth. Being a woman is complicated sometimes.

The car stops, and I realize I don’t know where we are. I look over at Arthur. “What are we doing?”

“I can’t very well show up uninvited and empty-handed to a child’s birthday party.” I watch through the window as Ollie walks briskly into the store.

“I was just going to pop some cash in an envelope.”

He looks down his nose at me. “Really? What kind of horrible auntie are you?”

“The kind that brings Jelly Babies every time I see them.”

“Oh, so not so horrible, after all,” he says. “Jelly Babies are the world’s best candy.”

“That they are.” A slow smile stretches across my face. Maybe we have more in common than I think.

“You have excellent taste, Ms. Sharpe.”

“I’m surprised you’d say that, since I don’t really like you at all.”

“Proves my point.”

Ollie comes back out and nods. The driver opens the door for us.

Arthur gestures toward the shop. “Are you coming?”

We follow Ollie into the tiny, cramped toy shop. We’re the only patrons, but if I had to guess, I’d say it’ll fill up fast if we don’t hurry. The limo with the royal flags parked out front is a dead giveaway.

An older man stands behind the till, his eyes wide. “You’re… you’re… Your Highness.” He bows deeply.

“Good afternoon,” Arthur says, his voice easy. “We’re in the market for some birthday gifts. Six-year-old, very wild twin boys.”

“Yes, sir!” The man hurries over to us. “We’ve got just the thing. Came in yesterday.” He walks us over to a display of neon razor scooters and gives us a quick sales pitch.

Arthur looks at me. “What do you think? Will this do?”

“Only if you want to be their favourite person for the rest of their lives.”

“Excellent. That will mean two down, five million to go.” Arthur turns to the shopkeeper. “We’ll take two. One Gooey Green and one Blaster Blue.”

The man takes two boxes and starts for the till.

“What should we get for the rest of the kids?” he asks.

“Why would we get them anything?”

“So they won’t be jealous.”

In the next twenty minutes, we choose gifts for all my nieces and nephews (including the one who hasn’t arrived yet), Arthur poses for several pictures with the man who owns the shop, as well as his wife and mother-in-law, who happened to be in the back room having tea. We also stop at the wine store next door and pick up four bottles of very nice wine, as well as a case of beer for my dad.

When we’re settled back in to the limo, we sit quietly for a moment, our hands nearly touching. I look down at my fingers next to his against the leather seat. He has big, manly hands that dwarf mine and make me feel like a child. When I look up at him, he’s also staring at our hands. He slowly slides his toward mine and links his pinky finger around mine. It’s the slightest of gestures, but it sets off an explosion of happiness inside my body.

“So, give me the run down on who I’m about to meet.”

“Sure. My parents are Ruben and Evi. My father is a mechanic, my mother is a stay-at-home… wife. I was going to say mum, but then I realized we’ve all grown up and moved out. She babysits the grandkids a lot, though—”

“So, she’s a stay-at-home grandmum.”

“Exactly.” I nod. “I have four brothers. I’m the only girl. The eldest is Noah. He’s a structural engineer and is married to Isa, and they have three kids, Tabitha, Poppy, and little Clarkie. Watch out for Clarkie. He’s going through a bit of a head-butting phase, so keep your… umm… sceptre protected at all times.”

He nods. “Got it. Ruben, Evi, Noah, Isa, Tabitha, Poppy, and Clarkie, the ball-buster.”

I laugh, impressed with his ability to recall everyone’s names. “Okay, next in line is Lars, who is a professor of astrophysics at Valcourt Tech—”

“A total dullard, then.”

“Yes. Especially when it comes to choosing women and raising kids.”

“Oh, dear.”

“Wife is Nina, who is pregnant with what she hopes is a girl. They already have four boys, including our birthday twins, Geoffrey and Josh, as well as Knox and Stephen, named for my brother’s biggest hero, Stephen Hawking. Then there’s Bram, the dentist who has never hired a hygienist he hasn’t slept with.”

“Ah. I see.”

“Finally, there is Finn, who is finishing architecture school this spring.”

“Huh. So, all rather impressive career-wise.” He gives me a thoughtful look for a second, then nods once. “Now I understand.”

“What?”

“You grew up with four boys, all very smart, all probably loving to torture the only girl in the house. Underachieving mother. They likely thought you were also going to be a nice little housewife, and you’ve spent your entire life proving them wrong.”

I glare at him and slide my hand away, feeling irritation rise from my toes to my arched eyebrow. “Wow. That was offensive on so many levels.”

Arthur looks taken aback. “How so?”

“First of all, calling my mother an underachiever for dedicating her life to her family. You’ve just insulted, like, half of the women on the planet.” He opens his mouth, but I cut him off. “Second, I don’t appreciate the little pop-psychology assessment.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend. I’m just trying to figure you out.”

The way he says it douses almost all of the flames of anger in me, but I keep my chin out, all the same. “Well, you did offend.”

“I wish I hadn’t because you were smiling before, and now… you’re not.” He lifts his hand and touches my bottom lip with his thumb. “It’s quite a loss for me, because I’ve become rather attached to your smile in a very short period of time.”

Well, when he puts it that way… “I suppose your heart was in the right place.”

“Forgiven?”

“Forgiven.” I give him a little grin. “Plus, this gives me the upper hand again, in a very big way.”

He narrows his eyes playfully. “Because I’ve admitted to being a Tessa’s-smile-addict?”

“Because if I tweet your comment about stay-at-home mums being underachievers, you’ll be totally fucked.”

“Oh, bollocks. You’re right.”

I narrow my eyes and try for my most ominous look. “You’re mine now, Your Highness.”

He licks his lips. “What are you going to do with me, Ms. Sharpe?”

The car stops. I look out the window to see my parents’ house to my right. “For now, force you to spend time with my family.”

“I’m more interested in what you’ll do to me after the party.”

This time as I get ready to go inside, it’s with a nervous excitement that I haven’t felt since… well, maybe ever.