‘I’m not letting you down until you agree to stop sulking.’
She froze. ‘I am not sulking,’ she hissed.
He was a Lieutenant Colonel and he’d dealt with more recalcitrant new recruits than could be imagined. Waiting out one little princess who’d always had the patience of a gnat was easy. Not that he wouldn’t keep her on his shoulder until the morning if he had to.
‘I’m sorry.’
The whispered words caught at his heart, the sadness in them as unexpected as his instant reaction to them. He frowned and bent his knees so that he could let her down, the delicious friction of her body against his lost momentarily in his concern for her.
‘It’s just smoke, Freya.’
‘Not just about that,’ she replied, her eyes locked onto the corner of the boot room, plucking at his heartstrings as if it were hers to play.
And finally he did what he’d been wanting to do since she’d turned up at his cabin. He took her chin with his thumb and forefinger and gently pulled her round to face him. He wanted to see her eyes as much as he wanted her to see his.
‘Your exile, Kjell—’
‘I deserved nothing less,’ he replied honestly. It had hurt him—devastated him—not to be able to see his parents. To know that he’d lost his father’s respect. That day had been matched only by losing Freya. Ever since that day he’d done what he’d needed to. He could do his job, and do it well. He could laugh with his military brotherhood and he could live in whatever country he was sent to next. But being cut from the very things that made him feel connected to his past, to his family, his people... Freya—it was a phantom pain that he’d only realised when he’d returned. The familiarity that always rolled over him like a tsunami for those hours had made him realise just howunfamiliar the rest of his life was. Just how much had been taken from him.
But he’d also known that he deserved punishment for what he’d done. He’d broken a moral code in lying to her about his true identity but, worse, by giving in to the temptation of her he’d put her safety at risk. And that was untenable.
‘No one deserves that, Kjell. Certainly not for this long. We were kids, we didn’t know better.’
Everything in him wanted to roar in denial. He might have been young, but he’d known exactly what he was doing. Yes, he knew that lying was wrong, but Christ, he’d... his mind snapped, his teeth biting together, cutting off the train of thought before he could finish it.
His free hand clenched and he watched her eyes flick down to it and back up to him. Forcing himself under control, he offered the apology she’d not wanted to hear all those years ago.
‘I’m sorry too,’ he said, unable to stop his hand rising or his thumb sweeping gently across her jawline. ‘I should have told you.’
‘Why didn’t you?’
‘Because I wanted you more than I could stand,’ he said, before letting her go and walking away.
CHAPTER FIVE
FREYASTOODINthe boot room for long, long minutes after he’d left. Blinking slowly while replaying his words on a loop.
I wanted you more than I could stand.
Her pulse thundered in her chest as her mind assaulted her heart with images from their time together. Kisses, touches, laughter, love... The look in his eyes he would get sometimes when she caught him unawares. A kind of regretful longing. She’d not wondered at the time what had been on his mind, because she’d felt the same thing. Neither had been willing to admit that what they shared had an expiry date. Because even if he had told her the truth and even if they had spoken about it, the fact that she was a princess meant theirs was a future that could never have been.
In her hurt and anger, it had been easier for her to blame Kjell for the heartache than face the truth: that her status and her family would never have allowed him to become her consort. The thought of her father changing the legislation for her was as laughable as it was inconceivable.
And it was still in place, the decree that the consort for the first two legitimate heirs to the throne must have a title. It had been intended to protect the sanctity of the royal bloodline during a period when such things had to be unquestionable. None of her Svardian ancestors had needed or wanted to challenge the Royal Marriage Act since.
But if Freya was stepping down, then she would no longer be bound by that law.
Her heart raced as quickly as her mind.
I wanted you more than I could stand.
Blindly stripping off her coat and boots, she walked into the cabin, her insides trembling, unsure of what to expect.
Kjell was kneeling by the wood burner, feeding a log into the fire. He beckoned her over when he saw her, his gaze blank of the devastating emotional kick that he’d last looked at her with. She went to him, remembering this part of Kjell. His ability to shut down, switch tack, compartmentalise. It was probably what made him such a good soldier. She would get nothing further from him. Not now, anyway.
‘So,’ he said, his tone authoritative, ‘if that happens again, you need to know how to start a fire.’
An hour later, and Freya was still watching the flames of the fire she’d help to build. Kjell was in the kitchen and the smells were making her stomach growl. She’d not eaten since the hastily grabbed bowl of cereal she’d had that morning, and she’d missed a meal last night. She could get a little like that. Henna always had snacks and protein bars in her bag, sneaking them to her in between appointments. Usually, every single minute of her day was planned out with precision, but here there was nothing to distract her thoughts from veering between the past and an unknown future.