Cree

---

“Wait right here,” Aaron said a few days later.

It was on the tip of my tongue to give him some attitude, maybe tease him for his incredibly demanding tone of voice, but I chose to say nothing.

Staying right there seemed like an excellent idea, one that I wished would last even beyond this evening.

I’d had that realization the night before, realized that going to bed with Aaron, waking up with him, had been one of the greatest experiences of my life, and not one that I was eager to end.

It would end.

That was inevitable. If it weren’t, Aaron would have said something by now. But he hadn’t, which told me where he stood. I’d expected this, and it was something I tried my hardest to prepare myself for, but I decided that until the end came, I would enjoy this.

And enjoy the view.

I shifted in my wicker chair, lifting my gaze to follow Aaron as he moved around the restaurant.

I hadn’t quite gotten used to seeing him dressed so casually, but the look was good on him. He looked relaxed, still regal, but a touch more human.

I realized then that I liked seeing him that way. Liked knowing that though there was no reason why that was the case, I knew the man, understood him, even if just a little.

And yet despite understanding, there was still so much more to uncover.

I watched him as he spoke to the maître d’, and though I couldn’t hear what they said, watching their body language was interesting.

The man looked at Aaron with obvious respect, but not of the kind that was obsequious or subservient.

Aaron had told me that he came here often, used this place as his home away from home. So it wasn’t a surprise that the staff knew him.

But what was surprising was the way they had responded to him.

Every single person we had encountered, which, had been very few, but still enough for me to notice a pattern, had seemed to go out of their way to acknowledge him.

Perhaps that was simply the way of things, or at least that was what I had thought initially.

But now, all these days later, I could see that it was more than that.

The way the maître d’ looked at Aaron wasn’t as though he was being grudging, doing what he simply felt he had to do to survive.

No, there was respect, genuine affection in his expression.

And when Aaron reached into his pocket and offered the man a folded bill, he shook his head and lifted his hands, refusing to take it.

I couldn’t think of anything that spoke more highly than that.

I didn’t understand the intricacies of it, but what was clear to me was that the man genuinely liked Aaron, as did many of the others around him.

And for the first time since I had known him, I understood.

I looked away when Aaron turned and began to walk back toward our table.

It was a semi-cowardly move, but the alternative was to look him in the face, have him see the emotions that I knew I wouldn’t be able to hide.

I wasn’t ready for that, so instead I toyed with the edge of my linen napkin, did anything and everything but acknowledge his presence as he got closer.

“Everything okay?” I asked when Aaron sat down.

“Perfect. I just wanted to speak to the maître d’ and thank him personally,” Aaron said.

“Thank him for what?” I asked, looking at Aaron again.

My heart stuttered a bit, the little thud both energizing and scary with its intensity.

“For making this such an amazing experience. They always do an excellent job here, but they went above and beyond.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Yeah. When I come, I like to keep to myself, do my own thing, but I told them I was going to have a special guest, and they really went out of their way.”

I felt like my body would break into a full blush, and I smiled at him. “You made special arrangements for me?” I asked.

I wasn’t exactly sure why I was surprised, but I hadn’t even considered the thought or the possibility. And yet again, I felt more special than I ever had before, and all because of Aaron.

“Of course. I’m trying to impress you, after all,” he said.

“I’m surprised. And unsure as to why you think you’d have to try to impress me,” I said.

My confusion was authentic.

If anything, next to Aaron, I felt even more average, plain, nearly invisible than I usually did. The idea of him trying to impress me was one that I certainly couldn’t accept at face value, one that I wondered if I would ever be able to believe.

“Of course I’m trying to impress you. And I know that just any old thing wouldn’t do.”

He spoke with a warmth and sincerity I hadn’t heard before.

I studied him anew, wondering if something had changed or if it had been there all along. I decided then that it didn’t matter. Maybe I’d been too blind to see it, but something had changed, and I couldn’t doubt the truth of what he said, the truth of how he felt.

I looked at him, smiled, my heart knocking in my chest, but for the first time my brain was clear.

“You did impress, your highness,” I said.

He smiled, looking satisfied, and then took a sip of his orange juice.

Later I would think about why, try to figure out if there was something in that moment that had been special, something that had tipped me over the edge, but for now I didn’t. Instead I simply sat with the emotions I was having, allowed the feelings to wash over me, their rightness, their pure undeniability to settle in.

I’d never given much thought to falling in love. I’d waited for it to happen, but it never had. Which wasn’t to say I hadn’t dated. I had, and had gotten close to a couple of really nice men. But that feeling…that overwhelming emotion that people wrote songs about had never happened.

Over time, the very idea had seemed distant, certainly out of reach for me. At best I had resigned myself to finding someone I respected, someone who respected me, someone with whom I could build a life. But that bone-deep emotion, that connection was something I no longer expected.

But even if I had been expecting it, I was sure I wouldn’t have been prepared for it.

Because in that moment, as I stared at Aaron, his eyes a dark shade of greenish brown, a color I wanted to lose myself in, I could barely keep myself together. I felt like every part of me, down to the smallest atom had been taken apart and put back together with something added that I’d never be able to shake.

I might not have been expecting it, might not have known what to do with it, but the truth was crystal-clear.

I had fallen in love with Aaron Sarda, his Royal Highness, Prince of Medina.

And there was no going back.

---

Aaron

---

I kept Cree monopolized for the rest of the morning and afternoon, but even my best efforts, all of my will, didn’t do anything to slow time.

Soon, far too soon for my liking, it was time to leave.

“Do you have everything?” I asked.

“I think so,” she responded.

“If you don’t, don’t worry. The staff will see that anything you may have left behind is returned to you,” I said.

She nodded, smiled a soft smile of gratitude, and then walked toward the front door.

I grabbed her bag and held it, knowing I could give the task to someone else, but wanting to keep it for myself.

The melancholy I felt had little precedent in my life.

I’d been sad when I had finally left the kingdom, but that time had also been tempered with excitement. My brothers had been gone for a few years, and it had been my turn then to explore the world. So though I had been sad to leave behind all I had known, I had also been excited, knowing that a whole world awaited me.

But this time, the melancholy I felt was not tempered with excitement. Instead, I was struck with a lingering sadness, one that I hadn’t been able to shake.

I wanted to spend more time with her, but I clearly hadn’t given thought to what that would actually mean.

Because I had gotten my wish, and so much more.

I’d spent time with Cree, gotten to help her relax, but now that that time was over, I didn’t want to let it go.

And I had no other choice.

I closed the door behind me, not bothering to lock it, and continued on toward the private valet.

My local vehicle was waiting, and I loaded Cree’s things, and then Cree into the car before I pulled off and headed to the airport.

Neither of us spoke, but the silence was companionable.

I didn’t need words, not now, not when my emotions were so pure and so undeniable.

Maybe it had been happening for years, or maybe it had simply come out of the blue today, but I knew without a doubt that I loved her.

I also knew I couldn’t say it.

It went against my every instinct, everything I’d ever been taught was to stay silent and keep my feelings to myself. More than anything I wanted to say the words, tell her that I loved her and that I was never going to let her go.

That nearly unshakable impulse should have scared me. It wasn’t like I’d ever felt anything like it before. But it didn’t. Because being with Cree, loving her was right, as right as anything I’d ever felt.

But while I had an almost overwhelming need to tell her that, I couldn’t let the words come out. In fact, words alone felt insufficient to express the depth of my feelings for her. And I was at a loss for what I could do to put force and action behind the words.

I glanced over at Cree, watched her for a split second as she contentedly stared out the window before I turned back to the road.

I still didn’t quite understand it, but I knew without a doubt this woman held my heart and always would. And I was determined to show her just that.

As I continued down the road, a sudden realization hit me, one that was so obvious I couldn’t believe I’d missed it.

My lips wanted to turn into a smile, but I squashed that impulse down, not wanting to tip Cree off.

Because now I knew exactly what I would do not just to tell her that I loved her but to prove it.