Corbin was only a few hours away by plane, but it felt like a different world. Things had always been slower here than in Rhysland. Kind of how visiting the coast of Maine had felt like once I’d gotten out of New York City in America.

God, even the air reminded me of Charlotte. She’d been gone for four days, and I was about out of my damn mind.

My phone rang as I descended the steps on the private landing strip at the airport. I answered it as Oliver opened the door to the waiting car, and I slid inside.

“What’s up?” I asked, recognizing Xander’s cell.

“You made it.”

“Just landed. Not sure what the fuck I’m going to say, but I’m here.”

“You lay everything bare. Be completely honest with her about your feelings, and see where it leads.”

“Yeah, I tried that once. It didn’t go so well for me.”

“Try again.”

The car started toward the airport exit, and I tried to ignore the nerves in my stomach.

“I’m not sure I’m what she wants.”

“And what do you think that is?” he asked.

“You. She wants me to be you. And I’m not. It doesn’t matter how much we look alike; I’m not you in what really matters to her. The polish, the manners, the giant stick up your ass that matches hers most days.”

Laughter rumbled through the phone.

“I’m glad you find this so amusing, jackass.”

“It’s only funny because I was never what she wanted. No matter what she said, or how she acted after that damn agreement was signed, she never wanted me.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“I’m fucking serious, Jameson. Listen to me.”

“Yeah, yeah, she never wanted the most eligible bachelor in the world, yadda yadda.” God, the moment they’d told us about the arrangement, I’d stormed out of the beach house and rowed myself onto the ocean as far as I could go until no one could hear me scream at the top of my lungs.

“She wanted you. Everyone saw it that summer. There was something palpable in the air when you two were together, and it’s still there. You guys disguised it the best you could, but it never disappeared. Why do you think I never touched her? Never even tried?”

“Because she’s like your sister...at least that’s what you said.”

“Charlotte is a beautiful woman. Don’t you think I would have at least tried to make something work? To experiment to see if we had any chemistry?”

I slouched against the leather seat as the scenery flashed by the windows. I had another ten minutes before I pulled up to Charlotte’s house.

“I don’t know,” I said in excuse.

“It’s because she was yours, Jameson. She was yours, and our parents fucked up. When her parents came looking for the marriage, they agreed, thinking it was what I wanted. It was all a big fucking mistake.”

I scoffed. “Yeah, right. Charlotte’s parents knew exactly what their daughter was worth, and it was the heir. Not the spare. Maybe it was a mistake on our parents’ parts, but not theirs. I’ve never been good enough. Not for them. Not for her.”

Maybe it wasn’t too late to tell Oliver to turn us around. I could go straight back to the airport, get on the fucking plane, and she’d never be the wiser. Hell, she’d probably be happier without me bleeding my heart all over her and begging her again to be mine.

Me. The guy who never had to ask, let alone beg.

“Jameson, let me ask you one question.”

“Shoot,” I said, watching as we turned off the main highway to the road that led to the Carlisle estate.

“Have you ever once thought of abdicating?”

Words stuck in my throat.

“Have you?”

“No. Not really. I mean, I threatened Parliament, but I figured after you’d walked out, my threat was all they’d need. I’d never leave this to Sophie or Brie. They deserve their lives, and I’m capable of ruling. Hell, I think I might be good at it.”

“Exactly.”

“What do you mean?”

I heard him shifting the phone as words mumbled around him. He was no doubt needed momentarily.

“You are fighting for your country. For the woman you love, and that makes you ten times the man I was. I told everyone to fuck off and took Willa because I wanted her, loved her, and I left you to handle everything. You might feel like the more reckless of us, but I’m telling you that from where I stand, you’re the most responsible.”

I took a steadying breath. I’d been called a lot of things, but responsible was never one of them.

We pulled up to the Carlisle estate, the seat of the Corbin Duchy, and I looked up at the ancient stone castle that had stood the test of time.

“She’s better than I am,” I whispered my truth to my twin, the one person on the earth who knew me better than I knew myself.

“Yeah, well my wife is better than I am, too. The good ones always are.” Another muffled sound came through. “Shit, they’re calling me on. One more thing. You listening?”

“Well, I haven’t hung up on you yet, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Jaime. You deserve her. Do you hear me? You are exactly the man she needs, and you. Deserve. Her.”

He hung up without saying goodbye or giving me a chance to argue with him.

Oliver came back down the stone steps and opened my door. “She’s in the family den, and has no clue.”

Stepping into the brisk Corbin air, I nodded, tugging at my button-down shirt and leather bomber jacket like it would shield me from whatever she was going to say. It was all or nothing here, and I was all in.

I followed Oliver into the castle, which had been fully modernized in the last century. God, nothing changed. It looked exactly as it had when I was younger.

“Your Highness,” Charlotte’s Mom said quietly, dipping into a curtsy.

“Jameson,” I corrected her.

She flashed me a sad smile. “I’m glad you’ve come for her.”

“You don’t look pleased,” I told her honestly. There was no point lying to the woman if I had any hope of her being my mother-in-law.

“Oh, I am. You see, I did you a great wrong a very long time ago, and though I never righted it, you found your way here, anyway.” She stood as graceful and poised as Charlotte, but there was a slight tremble in her smile.

“What wrong is that?”

“She wanted you,” she said softly. “That summer, when you were here, it was you that she wanted.”

I stared at her, dumbstruck.

“Charlotte,” she added as if she needed clarification.

“I’m sorry?” I asked, unable to think of something more eloquent to say.

“That summer when you were teenagers? Charlotte fell for you so very hard. We all watched it happen, and I was so happy. To think that my daughter would fall for the son of my best friend was so...fortuitous.”

“Indeed. Fortuitous when he was the heir to the throne.”

She winced.

“No, it was never Xander. It was always you. When I went to your parents to suggest a betrothal...well, I assumed because of his more reserved nature…” She blushed furiously before meeting my eyes. “I couldn’t tell you apart and assumed it was Xander she was in love with. But I was so very wrong. She was destroyed when she found out the truth. She only loved you.”

“She loved me,” I repeated. “She was only thirteen.”

But I had loved her then, a fierce devotion that had never wavered, no matter how many other women I took to my bed in hopes to replace her.

“Charlotte has always known her own mind. Oh, Jameson, I’m so sorry for the pain we caused you both with my mistake.”

Pain. So much pain. Enough to go around more than once.

“And Xander? Do you wish I was him?”

She blinked at me, her mouth dropping open for a second before that legendary composure came back. “Never. Charlotte is sensible enough for two people. Hell, for the whole country. She needs someone to rip her out of her safety zone and drag her into the light, kicking and screaming if need be. That was never going to be Xander.”

I nodded, emotion clogging my throat. “Ma’am, I’d like your permission—”

“You have it,” she said with a tearful smile, breaking every royal protocol and interrupting me. “She’s in the den.”

“Thank you,” I told her before I damn-near raced toward the residential wing where the den was. Good thing I knew this place as well as the palace.

I quietly opened the den door and saw the back of Charlotte’s head as she watched the enormous television—an all-too-familiar face consuming the screen.

“What’s wrong, dear?” her stepfather asked, looking over his paper at the screen.

“Shhh!”

“His Royal Highness, Prince Jameson Wyndham.” The television announced.

She leaned forward, no-doubt examining the picture.

“Thank you for being so readily available for this press conference.”

“What the hell…” she muttered, standing up.

“I’d like to tell you today that Parliament has just passed a bill that I suggested and was drafted and championed by Prime Minister McAllister, called the Royal Coronation Act. It states that our archaic law demanding an heir be married before ascending the throne no longer exists.”

Charlotte gasped.

“Well, that’s new. Exciting, really, isn’t it? Jameson is already modernizing the monarchy, and he hasn’t even been crowned yet.”

Charlotte shook her head at her stepdad.

“What is it, Charlotte.”

“That’s not Jameson,” she said, her voice clear and certain.

A swell of hope rose in my chest. There were only a few people in this world who could tell me apart from Xander, and Charlotte knew from a simple press conference.

“Look at that hair, of course it’s Jameson,” her stepdad said.

“No. Look at his smile, the strain around his eyes. His shoulder’s aren’t quite as built. That’s not Jameson. It’s…”

“Xander,” I said, alerting her to my presence.

She whirled.

“Hi, Charlotte.”

“Jaime.” Her voice was a whisper, those eyes of hers wide and a little red. Had she been crying?

“And that’s my cue to leave,” her stepdad said.

As he passed me, he gripped my hand. “Damn glad to see you, son,” he said quietly.

“Sir, I asked your wife—” I whispered.

“And did she answer?” He answered in kind.

“She did.”

“Then you already know my answer. That woman’s been making up my mind for the last decade.” Without another word, he left, shutting the door behind him.

“Jaime, what are you doing here? Why is Xander on TV? Did you really get Parliament to change the coronation law?”

I walked toward her, but she backed up, then turned so the couch was between us again, this time lengthwise. “Charlotte, come on.”

“Nope. You put your hands on me and then I can’t think straight. So you stay over there, and I’ll stay here.”

“I’m not sixteen. I can control my sexual urges, no matter how badly I want you,” I told her, my eyes devouring every inch of her frame. Holy fuck, the woman had on leggings. Actual leggings that molded to her perfect thighs and cupped that luscious ass.

“Well, maybe I can’t! You stay there until you tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Currently I’m thinking that I’m going to change the dress code at all events so that you wear those every day all day because you look sexy as hell in them.” I stalked forward, and she turned until she was at the back of the couch and I stood at the front.

“No! Stay!” she snapped at me like I was a puppy.

Realizing that we probably looked ludicrous, I stopped and sighed. “Xander is pretending to be me so I could get here before you saw the announcement.”

“He switched with you.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“True.” She tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear. “And the new bill?”

“I told Parliament that if they forced me to wed before I was crowned, they’d have to find themselves a new King. Considering they just lost the last one over a similar issue, they gave me what they wanted.”

“You don’t have to marry Ophelia.”

Was that a spark of hope in her eyes?

“I don’t have to marry anyone to be King.”

Her tongue ran across her lower lip, and I almost groaned. Fuck, I wanted to kiss her. Wanted to throw her onto the couch and bury myself in her so deep that she’d never deny that she was mine ever again.

“So you have time.”

“We have time.”

“You did this for me.” Her voice was soft, and she stepped close enough to the back of the couch to grip the upholstery.

“I did this for you,” I agreed.

“And you let him announce it? Your first massive piece of legislation and you’re not even there to soak in the glory, to bask in the moment.”

“I’m exactly where I want to be.”

“Jaime.”

“As long as you tell me that I’m where you want me to be. This is all for nothing if you don’t want me, Charlotte. I have literally changed the laws in our country so I can have you, and make no mistakes—I’ll take you on whatever terms you have.”

“You still want me? Even after…”

Unable to wait another second, I jumped the fucking couch like a madman, landing on the other side next to her. She gasped but didn’t move away. I pulled her to me until we touched from hip to chest. Then I raised her chin with my finger so I could meet her eyes.

“I will always want you. It doesn’t matter how much time passes, or if the world stops turning. My want of you—my need for you—will never change. It hasn’t since we were kids, and I know it never will.”

“And all the other girls?”

“There have been no other girls since I even dreamed there was a chance that I could have you, and there will never be any other woman but you. Ever.”

Lowering my mouth slowly, I gave her every chance to push me away, but she didn’t. Our mouths met in a gentle brush of lips, a sweet, tender kiss that was more symbolic than physical.

“Just please, Charlotte. Be with me. We have time now. Time to date, to figure out what you want, what I want, what we want together. There’s no shotgun wedding from Parliament. It’s all our choice now.”

“I have a job now,” she blurted out. “I agreed to chair for the Foundation of Women’s Progression. I don’t want to let them down; it’s my first job offer ever.”

“Okay, they have offices in Rhyston. You can work from there if you want. If you don’t, then we’ll do long distance.”

She looked at me like she’d never seen me before. “You would do that for me? Let me work? Do long distance?”

“Let?” I laughed. “Charlotte, you are a force of nature. I can’t remember the last time someone let you do something. If you want to work, work. If you want to stay here, then I will make it work. I will literally take any part of you that you’re willing to give. And if one day you want to marry me—” Please, please, please marry me. “Then you can choose to take on duties as Queen, or you can ask my sisters to help out. I want you in my bed, my heart, my life. I don’t care if you invite the Queen of England to tea or not. I don’t want you for what you’ve been raised to be. I love you for who you are.”

“You love me?”

For such a confident woman, she looked so delicate, so unsure.

I kissed her lightly.

“I have loved you since childhood, and I will love you until time doesn’t exist. And you love me, too, so stop arguing and just agree for once.”

“Oh, I love you?” Her eyebrow rose.

“You do,” I said, a sense of certainty filling me. “You have loved me since the summer you turned thirteen, and I watched you read. You may have locked it away for a few years, but it never died, did it?” My eyes begged when my words couldn’t. I needed the words, needed her to admit that she wanted me just as badly, loved me just as much.

“It never died,” she admitted, looping her arms around my neck.

“You love me,” I told her, finding the small of her back with my hands.

“I love you, Jameson.”

I nearly sagged in relief, my forehead resting against hers.

“Say it again.”

“I. Love. You.” She brushed her lips against mine with every word.

“And maybe one day you might marry me? Maybe? I don’t need an answer right now, but just the chance that you might one day you might take my name? Or don’t take my name. I don’t give a fuck.”

She laughed. “You really want to marry me? Without being obligated to?”

I brushed my thumbs over the lines of her cheekbones. “I have no obligation, or legal reason to marry you. I just want to. I want you bound to me in every way possible, and I want to be yours in the same ways. I want you to have the legal protection of my name, and the physical enjoyment of my body,” I said with a smirk.

“Are you saying you won’t have sex with me if we’re not married?” she opened her mouth in mock shock.

“I wish I had that much willpower, but no. I’ll strip you naked and fuck you on this couch if you’ll let me.”

A shiver went down her spine, and she bit her lip.

Fuck, now I was hard, thinking about the last time I’d had her under me, those thighs wrapped around my hips. Or above me, with her hair spilling around us, her cries echoing off the walls.

“I guess it’s good that I have enough willpower,” she said with a smile.

“I’m sorry?” Was she seriously going to cut off our physical connection? I’d wait years, hell decades, or until my cock fell off if it meant I got to have her, but I was going to have to do some serious investment in ice packs for the blue balls I’d constantly have.

    “I think we should hold off on having sex until we’re married.” She trailed her finger down my chest. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t decide if I’m fucking overjoyed that you might marry me one day, or horrified by the years of celibacy I have in front of me.”

Her smile was breathtaking. “Years, huh? I was thinking a little sooner.”

My heart leaped into my throat. “Sooner.”

“Well, we do have a church reserved, and an entire reception planned.”

Oh shit. Maybe. Don’t get your hopes up.

“And a minister,” I offered.

“True. And all those people invited.”

“Fuck the people. You, me, our parents, our siblings. That’s all I need.”

She stood there, her heart in her eyes, and I lost my breath.

“Charlotte, I’m trying not to get my hopes up, but what exactly are you saying?’

“Nothing until you ask,” she laughed.

This is it!

I dropped to one knee, yanking the small velvet box out of my jacket pocket that I’d brought on the tiniest chance that a dream of this was possible. Gently, I opened the lid and held it out to her, but she didn’t look at the gem, keeping those eyes locked on me.

“Charlotte Eleanor Carlisle, I have loved you all my life, and nothing would make me happier than getting to love you the rest of it. No crowns, no titles, just you and me. What do you say? Will you do me the highest honor of being my wife?”

She nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek.

“You have to say it, Charlie, because I’m pretty sure I’m dreaming.”

She dropped down to her knees and kissed me. “Yes. Yes, Jaime. Yes.”

“Thank you, God,” I said before kissing the breath out of her. Our tongues tangled, and the sweetest high didn’t come from the touch of our mouths, but the knowledge that I’d get to kiss her for the rest of my life.

“You’re going to be my wife,” I said incredulously as I slipped the ring on her left hand. It was an emerald solitaire, the very same shade as her eyes. I’d purposely chosen a new gem, nothing from the royal safe. This was only ours, just like our love.

“I’m going to be your wife,” she agreed. “And I’ll do you one better. I’ll be your Queen.”

This kiss wasn’t tame, or sweet. I kissed her until her hands tightened in my hair, until her breasts were crushed against my chest and her tongue was sucked into my mouth.

Then she pushed back with a laugh.

“Charlie,” I groaned.

“I wasn’t kidding. No sex until the wedding night.”

I’d never been so thankful that this was the shortest engagement in the history of royal engagements. One week and she’d be mine.

Because I’d always been hers.