“Do we really have to go home?” I whine.

I never thought I’d be much of a whiner and I hate the fact that I’ve only been a wife for a few weeks before I started but the truth is…

I really don’t want to go home.

Right now, it’s cold and snowbound in Norway, and here on a yacht anchored off Tenerife in the Canary Islands, it’s warm and sunny and majestic.

Granted, this honeymoon might feel especially warranted as it was a bit delayed. After our wedding, it was just a few days before Christmas, which meant a lot of time spent with the new family between our estate and the royal palace while we celebrated the holidays.

Now, it’s finally January and everything is off to a fresh start.

Helps that my royally hot prince of a husband has been lounging around on the deck beside me in next to nothing, his skin all oiled and glistening from the sun.

God, I love this man.

I love how much closer we’ve gotten since we’ve gotten married. It’s like we finally passed the test and now we can just relax with each other and enjoy the relationship we cultivated for ourselves instead of the one the public knows about.

It doesn’t even bother me anymore how we started out. The way I look at it, it’s just the way that we met—in an extremely unconventional way. Maybe it’s not the way everyone knows, but it’s our way and it’s still valid. What counts is how we feel for each other now.

And what I’m feeling at this moment, is well, kind of frisky.

Magnus is lying on his back, a towel covering his face from the sun, his body on full display. As we’ve been stationed on the yacht, there hasn’t been any paparazzi around. I think it’s because the actual royal yacht is currently sitting off the coast of Greece with Cristina and her boyfriend who, at a far away glance, resembles me and Magnus. They’re the perfect decoy and it’s worked for our entire honeymoon, giving us all the much-needed privacy in the world.

And it’s needed. Just lying here and staring at my husband in all his sculpted, muscled, sun-kissed glory, I have a hard time keeping my hands to myself.

I move on over, sidling up to him.

“Magnus,” I whisper so that I don’t surprise him.

“Mmmm?” he asks lazily from under the towel.

I place my fingers on the hard, taut planes of his chest and slowly, teasingly run them down until they’re skimming over his rigid abs, the oils from his suntan lotion making his skin slick.

“Do you want to go for a swim?” I ask, my voice throaty, craving him. I think marriage and this sunshine is a lethal combination.

He clears his throat. “I guess I am burning up.”

My hand goes lower, sliding over the bulge of his swim shorts and I can feel his dick twitch, growing harder under my palm.

“You certainly are.”

He lifts the towel off his head and tilts his head toward me, my own brazenness reflected in his aviator shades. “Where’s Einar?”

A throat is cleared from the cockpit. “Right here, sir.”

Ah yes. Exactly why I wanted to go for a swim. It’s too hot below and when you’re on deck, well, Einar seems to be everywhere.

Magnus lifts his head and looks at him. “Yes. There you are.” He looks to me. “Shall we?”

We both get up and before I can even think about what’s next, Magnus is running down the deck and launching off the side, doing a full summersault before he splashes into the ocean in a perfect dive.

Show off.

I go to the edge and look over. “Were you a gymnast in another life?”

He’s treading in the aqua-blue water, his hair slick off his forehead as he stares up at me. “I don’t know.” He looks down the yacht toward Einar. “What would you rate that?!” he yells at him.

“Eight out of ten, sir,” Einar says.

“Only eight?” Magnus decries. “That was a perfect landing.”

“You went in with your sunglasses, sir, which are no doubt sinking to the bottom.”

“Shit,” Magnus swears. He looks to me. “Ella, come in before I make Einar throw you in.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” I tell him.

“Einar,” he commands.

Einar gets up, makes a motion to walk toward me.

“Okay, okay, I’m going,” I tell them quickly, carefully stepping over the railing. No way that man is throwing me overboard.

I stand on the edge, take in a deep breath, and jump.

The water is colder than you’d think, especially with the temperature outside being so hot, and it’s a shock to my system. I also feel like I’m sinking way further than I should, but then I feel Magnus’s hand on my arm, pulling me up to the surface.

I yelp once I break through, spitting out water. “Gah, it’s cold!”

“Stop being a wimp,” Magnus says.

“I’m not a wimp,” I protest, treading water around him. “You’ve got crazy Norwegian blood.”

“I also have a crazy Norwegian cock,” he murmurs, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me toward him. His eyes have gone from being light and teasing to half-glazed with arousal.

I grin at him. “You missed out on a serious Norwegian Wood pun. I’m very disappointed in you.”

“You’re right. Guess I was a bit distracted.” He looks over my shoulder and up at the boat, judging to see if Einar can see us our not. To be safe, while he’s still got a hold around me, he starts swimming backward until we’re just beside the anchor at the stern.

“Now, where was I?” he says, his eyes dropping to my lips.

It’s funny how just a look from him can get my body revved and running. I wrap my legs around his waist, and he slips his fingers to the front of my bathing suit, rubbing them against me.

“Here?” I ask, looking around. Even though Einar can’t see us, it doesn’t mean passing boats can’t. I know that the paparazzi hasn’t discovered us in the Canary Islands yet, but all it takes is one photo.

That said, I’m sure a couple having sex on their honeymoon will be forgiven.

“Hold onto the chain,” he whispers, leaning over and taking my lower lip between his teeth and tugging on it.

A small moan escapes from my lips, the pressure from his fingers growing harder. He reaches down with his other hand to free his cock from his shorts while I grab the anchor chain.

“No, up high,” he says.

I raise my arms above my head and hold onto the chain that way.

“God you’re fucking sexy,” he growls, staring at my breasts as my chest is thrust forward. Then he grabs the chain with one hand, just below where I’m holding on.

“You got it?’” I ask as his lips go to my neck, sucking the salt water off me.

“Mhmm.” He pushes aside my bikini bottom and runs the tip of his cock up and down my slit, teasing oh so slowly.

I’ve never had sex in the water before—before Magnus, I’d never had sex standing up before, let alone in public—and I’m grateful that he gets me wet and greedy so fast, because when he starts to push in, I feel everything. I suck in my breath, my fingers clamping around the chain, trying to hold on.

“You’re making me see stars,” he tells me, licking my earlobe. “I’ll take it slow until you tell me otherwise.”

I nod and let out my breath, feeling myself expand around him. The pressure of his fingers on my clit fills me with an aching hollowness, like I need more of him inside, like I’ll never have enough of him.

“That’s it,” he groans, mouth at my neck. “Fuck yes. Oh, Ella. Tell me how this feels to you. How fucking hard and thick does my cock feel? Do you want me deeper?”

I fumble for words. I make a sound of dazed encouragement and try to breathe, my head back to the blue sky above. He starts pumping into me faster, deeper, controlled jabs of his hips against mine. The friction of the water seems to slow down time, making me feel every single inch of him as he thrusts in and out.

I don’t know if it’s the turquoise water of the Atlantic that envelopes us or the stark sunshine that illuminates everything, but I’ve never felt so alive and free and wild. I’m being thoroughly fucked by my husband, by my world, and I think with every thrust he’s imprinting himself on me.

Magnus looks up from my neck, staring right into my eyes, his wet hair slick. His breath is ragged and rough as he moves in and out of me, picking up the pace. But his brown eyes never break from mine and I watch as the fire inside them builds, just as it builds inside me.

I can’t hang on anymore. Either onto this control or onto the chain. “Oh, fuck, Magnus,” I cry out softly. “I’m coming.”

“Fuck,” he swears, his eyes snapping shut as he thrusts in harder, deeper, his fingers on my clit rubbing me to completion. My fingers slip away from the chain and I’m holding onto him desperately as my legs convulse, trying to keep from drowning as I let go and he pumps into me until he’s grunting and cursing into my shoulder, finding his own release.

When I’ve finally caught my breath, I lift my head and give him a lopsided smile. “Happy honeymoon to me.”

He kisses me softly on the lips before he slowly pulls out of me. “Happy honeymoon to both of us.” He tucks himself back into his shorts. “How would you rate me on that one?”

I grin happily. “Ten out of ten.”

“You hear that Einar?!” he yells. “Ten out of ten!”

* * *

Even though we were only away for a week, I feel like a different person by the time I return to Thornfield Hall. Not only are Magnus and I both tanned and glowing (okay, so I’m still a shade of pale with the addition of a few freckles), but I feel like a giant weight has been lifted. Now, looking around at this place, it feels like ours and ours alone.

Well, aside from the fact that we share it with Jane and Einar and Ottar and a bevy of cooks and drivers and cleaners. But even so, it’s ours and we’re putting our own stamp on things. Literally, too. We got our own official stamp after we got married, not to mention a coin.

I have so many plans to get started on. I want to get a dog, I want to start redecorating some of the rooms, I want to start horseback riding lessons, I want to start planning my non-profit organization. I want to jump into this new life with both feet.

Today, though, it’s all about sitting together with Magnus in the parlor room and going through all the wedding gifts and writing out thank-you cards.

With the snow falling lightly outside, hot cocoa drinks at our sides and a roaring fire, it’s actually quite enjoyable.

For me, anyway. I can tell this is boring Magnus to tears, having to sit here and do this.

“We can make it a game,” I tell him. “To make it more interesting and fun.”

He sighs dramatically. “No. It’s fine.” He pauses. “Can’t you just forge my signature?”

“No,” I tell him and then watch as he reaches behind a couch pillow and pulls out a bottle of something and pours it in his hot chocolate. “What is that?”

“Medicine,” he says. “To keep me from dying of boredom.” I roll my eyes. I can smell the whisky from here.

He picks up what looks to be a paper-mache crown out of a box and glances at the card. “I mean what is this? And why did the Duke of Cornhole send this to us?”

I snatch the paper-mache mess from his hands. “It’s Duke of Cornwall. As in Prince Charles, you shitbag. Have some respect.”

“Respect? You’re the one who just called me a shitbag.”

“I always call you that.”

He sighs again and scribbles something on the card then hands it to me. “Exceptionally yours?” I read it out loud.

“That’s my calling card.”

“You could just write thank you.”

“I could but that has a better ring to it, don’t you think? Exceptionally Yours, His Royal Highness Crown Prince Magnus of Norway.”

“That’s quite the mouthful.”

He wags his brows at me and gives me a salacious grin. “You know I am.”

Suddenly a loud, frantic knocking at the door makes us all jump, including Einar who has been sitting in the corner of the room and doing his best to ignore our bickering.

“Are we expecting anyone?” I ask as Einar strides across the room and disappears into the hall. Jane went into town with Ottar, but they shouldn’t be back for another few hours.

“God, I hope it’s not the Duke of Cornhole,” Magnus says, getting to his feet. “With those ears, I bet he hears everything.”

I hear the front door open and Einar talking to someone in Norwegian. He sounds rather gruff and angry and I can’t understand what he’s saying.

“What is he saying?” I ask Magnus, but Magnus is already heading out into the hall. I catch a look of fear in his eyes.

This isn’t good.

I get up from the couch and hurry after them.

I round the corner into the foyer and stop dead in my tracks when I see who is at the door.

Heidi Fucking Lundström.

Standing there in a big, furry coat that makes me cringe thinking how many bears probably died for it, holding a manila envelope in her hand. Behind her in the driveway is a waiting car with the prime minister’s insignia on it.

Her eyes are wild and dark as she looks at Magnus, shaking the envelope at him and the moment she spots me, they seem to turn into something more wicked.

“I guess you need to hear this too,” she says in English.

Magnus gives me a wide-eyed look, his jaw firm, shaking his head for me to stay back, but there’s no way that is happening.

I go over to them. “What is this? What’s going on?”

Heidi looks up at Einar. “I don’t think you should stay for this. Unless you think I’m a threat.”

Einar glances at Magnus, waiting for his instruction.

Magnus just gives him a solemn nod.

Einar walks off, though I know he won’t go very far.

Which makes me wonder, she said she wasn’t a threat but usually people who say that are. Is she carrying a knife with her?”

“How did you get in here?” I ask.

“Took my father’s car,” she says with a shrug. Then her eyes go all blazing hot again and she looks at Magnus. “So nice of your mother to invite me to the wedding. I know that had nothing to do with you.”

“What do you want, Heidi?” Magnus says, crossing his arms and taking a wide stance with his legs.

She’s not intimidated. “What do I want? What do I want?” She lets out an acidic laugh. “I want a palace, just like this one. Maybe this one. I want prestige and money and adoration. I want my face on a coin. I want a title. I want the power that my father refuses to give me. I want every single thing that Princess Ella here has. Including you, Magnus. Especially you.”

And this chick is on the one-way train to Crazy Town. Next stop, Delusionville.

I look at Magnus, brows raised, my mouth open. I would laugh but there’s something about her delivery, something about the fact that she’s actually here, having, what, stolen her father’s car, that makes me think twice.

This isn’t funny.

This isn’t going to end well either.

“Heidi,” Magnus says as gently and sternly as he can, “you know that what we had is over. I’m married to Ella now. She is my wife. We are very happy. I know you tend to get, uh, wrapped up in things and feelings, I know you have your issues you need to deal with, but I promise you, this isn’t the answer. We had a nice time. It’s in the past. I moved on and you need to too.”

She stares blankly at him, her lower lip trembling for a moment.

Then she tilts her head and says, “No.”

“You need to leave,” Magnus says after a beat, seeming a bit taken aback by her reaction, just as I am. “If you don’t leave, I will have to make you leave.”

“I’m not leaving until you know the truth,” she says, then looks at me. “Until she knows the truth.”

She slaps the folder against Magnus’s chest.

“What is this?” he asks.

“It’s a paternity test.”

My stomach sinks.

Oh my god.

No.

“A…what?” Magnus asks, quickly fumbling to get the papers out of the folder.

“A paternity test,” she says. “I’m pregnant, Magnus. And you’re the father.”

No.

There is no way.

“She’s lying,” I manage to say, my words choked, my hand at my chest as if to keep my heart intact. “This is impossible.”

She gives me a sharp smile. “It’s not impossible. We last had sex in mid-September. That was four months ago.” She reaches forward and taps the folder. “That proves everything.”

I can’t believe this is happening.

This can’t be happening.

My chest is constricting, I don’t think I can breathe.

Magnus looks absolutely dumbfounded, his face growing pale. “I never gave you my DNA.”

“If you think my father doesn’t have your DNA on file somewhere, you would be sorely mistaken.”

“You’re not showing…” I say, but I trail off as she opens her coat and pulls up the sweater she’s wearing. She’s a thin girl but her belly is definitely sticking out and round, more than the beginning of a bump.

Holy fuck.

I can only shake my head and try to process it.

But I can’t.

I can’t.

This can’t be happening.

This is going to change everything.

Everything I have is going to disappear.

“You’re lying,” I tell her again, finding my voice, the last shred of hope I can cling to. “You’re lying just like you lied about the sex video. You leaked it, you shared it. You wanted the publicity. This is the same. Well I’m telling you, it’s not going to work.”

She bares her teeth at me in the nastiest smile. “It’s working because it’s the truth. And soon, every single person will know that I’m pregnant with the Prince’s baby, a baby conceived while the two of you should have been together. If you think I’m going to just let Magnus off the hook, oh boy, you poor little girl, you’re sorely mistaken.”

Magnus is silent, stewing, simmering. His eyes are flickering with a mix of rage and shame. “What do you want?”

She laughs. “Isn’t it obvious? You.” She points at me. “Her. I want her life. And I want her out of the picture.”

“That’s not going to happen,” he says in a calm, measured voice. “She’s my wife.”

“And I’m going to fuck shit up for both of you, so you might as well let her go before I do.”

“I’m not letting her go,” Magnus says. “We just…we just have to figure something out. Money. That’s what you want, it’s money.”

“It’s you. I have money.”

“Listen, Heidi. I’m sorry…”

“Are you telling me that the Crown Prince won’t support his child? Is that the kind of father you want to be? The world is going to judge you on this, but you should be judging yourself. This child is going to grow up without a father’s love.”

Oh my god. I’m going to be sick.

This is actually happening.

He’s going to be a father, a father of someone else’s baby.

I can’t handle this.

“Heidi, have some compassion,” Magnus says, his voice barely a whisper. He’s losing the fight and he knows it.

I know it.

Oh god.

“You have some compassion for me,” Heidi says. “I’ll let you keep these files just in case you don’t believe me. Trust me, I have more than enough copies at home, you know, in case my father or the press wants to see. Perhaps your father, hmmm?”

“Look,” Magnus says, gasping for air as he runs his hand through his hair, tugging on the ends in frustration. “Let’s just…I need to process all of this. So does Ella. Give us a few days and then we can figure something out.”

Heidi crosses her arms and looks between the two of us, smiling at our stunned and staggered expressions. Smiling because she’s winning.

“Okay. I’ll be back. But just so you know, there isn’t much to figure out, Magnus. Everything going forward is all about you and me. It’s that simple.”

Then she turns around and flounces out of the door and down the stairs.

Magnus barely has enough strength to close the door behind her and collapses against it, staring at the tiled floor in a daze. “This isn’t happening,” he says. “This can’t be happening to us. Not now. Fuck, not now!” He yells and pounds his fist against the door.

I should calm him down but I’m equally as mad, and as the seconds go by I find myself growing more mad at him.

“Say something,” Magnus says, glancing at me through his hair in his eyes. “Please. Ella. Say something.”

My mouth opens, trying to find words. Heat builds behind my eyes. “I can’t believe this.”

“I know…”

“I can’t believe you.”

He glances at me sharply. “What? Me?”

“Why did you have to sleep with her of all people? Aren’t you picky at all? Don’t you have standards?”

He frowns, incredulous. “What does that have to do with it?”

“Because you slept with her and you probably knew she was bad news. Now she’s here, trying to ruin our lives. Oh my god, Magnus. We’re newlyweds. We just…this isn’t fair. I didn’t…I can’t do this,” I tell him, doing everything I can to hold back the tears. “No, I can’t handle this, not right now.”

“Ella, please. Don’t do anything.”

“I need to think. I need to…Magnus. Don’t you know what position this puts me in?”

“Don’t you know what position it puts me in?”

“Yes. As a father. Because you reap what you sow,” I say bitterly, practically spitting out the words.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. You fucked her, over and over again, not caring that she was nuts. You make this god damn sex tape. You do all these things because you don’t have a fucking brain, because you’re reckless, you’re irresponsible, you’re selfish.” I know what I’m saying hurts him, but I can’t stop, the frustration and fear is too strong. “It’s your inability to think about any consequences that got us into this mess!”

He stares at me like I just slapped him in the face. His nostrils flare as he inhales. “Fuck. You.”

“It’s the truth, Magnus. If you had just given it a moment’s thought, this never would have happened.”

“If I hadn’t fucked up and gotten myself in this mess, you wouldn’t be here!”

“Yeah, well maybe that would have been for the best.”

He blinks at me in awe. “What are you saying?”

I need to stop talking. I need to get a hold of myself. I’m hurt, and confused, and I’m scared. So scared of where this is going, so scared that in the end I’ll be tossed aside. It doesn’t matter that we’re married, he could still discard me, he could still end up with her.

I press my lips together, afraid to say something I’ll regret, but instead I start shaking and quivering inside like a volcano ready to blow.

“What are you saying?” he asks again. “Don’t tell me you’re considering those clauses. Don’t tell me that’s how you’re going to handle it. Turn into a little girl and run away.”

“I am not a little girl! I’m your wife and you’re having a baby with another woman. How the fuck do you think I feel? How do you think I’m supposed to act?”

“It’s not a choice, Ella! I’m stuck with this fucking problem too. What do you want me to do? Turn my back on a child that’s mine? Cast her out when I’m also responsible for what happened?”

Yes. That’s exactly what I want to happen.

And I hate to say it, I hate to be that person.

It would be better if we could pretend that Heidi didn’t exist, that there was no child on the way.

But if Magnus did that, if he chose to not be a part of it, then he’s not the person I thought I married. The man I married would always do the right thing, even if it hurts.

No matter what happens to us, we lose.

I feel like my heart is being obliterated the more I stand here and think about it.

I can’t deal with this here, with him.

We won’t get anywhere.

I turn around and head upstairs to our room.

“Where are you going?” Magnus yells after me.

I don’t answer him. I grab my purse and make sure the essentials are in there and then I head back down stairs.

Einar is standing by the front door, Magnus walking toward me.

His face falls when he notices my purse.

“Where are you going?” he asks, reaching for my arm.

I rip it out of his grasp, not wanting to look at him anymore.

“Home!” I tell him. “I’m going home.”

I pass by Einar in the hallway. “When you see Jane, tell her I’ll send for her in a few days.”

He gives me an apologetic smile. “Yes, madam.”

I walk down the stairs and into a car as a driver runs out of the house after me, hurrying to the driver’s seat.

“Where to?” he asks.

“The airport,” I tell him.

I tell myself I won’t cry on the property. I won’t let my tears tinge that estate. I won’t let this bury the life that I’ve built here.

But the moment the car passes through the palace gates, I burst into tears.

I cry and I cry and I cry, as if my heart is being emptied out.

And all that’s left is the lie we built our love on.