“Principessa?” That smoothed over, melted-chocolate voice finds me, and before I can roll on my side to give him a wavering middle-finger, Royal’s arms are around me.
He picks me up, pulling me out of the snow like I weigh as little as a snowball. I’m too soggy and cold to protest. Much.
“What d-do you th-think you’re d-doing?” I try to sound snippy, but my teeth are chattering.
“What did I tell you about that coat?” he murmurs back. He curls me to his chest and despite myself, I melt into him. “I see you found some clothes. You look good,” he gives a soft tsk, “but it’s too cold for you to be out like this.”
He strides back the way I came, the snow crunching under his shoes.
My hands ball up into fists, but they lie uselessly in my lap, his arms pinning mine against me so I can’t do anything but be carried, like a helpless kitten.
“I’m n-not g-going b-back,” I say.
“No?” Royal’s chest rumbles with an amused growl, and he carries me up the steps and back into the house. He sets me down in the grand entrance and closes the door. I feel about two feet tall.
“What were you thinking, going out with so few layers on?” He fusses over me, stripping the coat from me despite my struggles. “You could catch a chill. I should turn you over my knee.” He takes my hands between his and rubs them, like he did in the SUV. The memory smacks me so hard, I can’t catch my breath. “If you wanted to go for a walk with me, you only had to ask.”
“I wasn’t—I was running away, from you, you and your fiancée,” I spit out.
Royal cocks an eyebrow at my words.
“Fiancée?” he repeats, like he doesn’t know what I’m talking about.
“I heard you talking to Enzo. He said you needed to marry.”
“Ah, yes.” Royal straightens, looking down at me from his regal height.
“And I found a closet full of clothes—” I reach for my anger and it’s right there. I point a finger at his chest. “Right there in your bedroom. Women’s clothes. Her clothes. I can’t believe you would—”
“Did they fit you?” he interrupts.
“What?” I falter, my finger wilting.
“Did the clothes fit? I specified your size.”
I open my mouth but nothing comes out.
“Leah, the clothes are for you.” His expression darkens. “Did you think I had them here for another woman?”
“Yes?” The image of the wedding dress blooms big and white in my head. Was it also in my size?
“Oh, principessa.” He lifts his hand and I flinch, but he simply brushes a gentle finger over my cheek. “You have much to learn.”
I swallow several times to find my voice. “For me?” I squeak. All those dresses, the lingerie. “You got them for me?”
“I told you I’d replace what I ripped off you.”
He did say that. “I thought you’d get me a gift card.”
That indulgent smile is back on his face. He shakes his head slightly.
My brain is short-circuiting. “But that’s tens of thousands of dollars’ worth of clothes—”
“Nothing less than you deserve.” He grips my chin with light fingers and dips his head to my ear. “Shall we have a little fashion show later? You dress up for me. I’ll kiss you and tell you how beautiful you look in the clothes I bought you. And then I’ll rip them off.”
A high-pitched whimper escapes me before I can gulp it back. Royal raises his head, laughing at the expression on my face. I would spend tens of thousands to dress you, he told me last night. Was it only last night?
There are too many thoughts swimming in my head. “I don’t understand.”
“I see I have more explaining to do.” The humor leaves his face like it never existed. “You were a busy little baker this morning. Cooking up the wrong ideas. Eavesdropping.” He traces the line of my jaw. He’s crooning but there’s a dangerous glint to his eyes. “I’m going to need to break you of that habit. In my world, it’s not safe to listen to the wrong conversations.”
I can only stare up at him.
“It’s all right. I’ll keep you safe. But let me make one thing clear.” He dips his head. “I will marry…” His eyes bore into mine, demanding I pay attention to every word he says. “You. You will be my bride.”
“Wh-what?” My lips part, but no more words come out. He smoothes a thumb over my lower lip, teasing me. My insides quiver and it has nothing to do with the winter air swirling around us.
“I’ll give you everything, principessa, everything you want. You will be faithful to me, and bear my children. Is that not what you thought would happen?” He leans down and kisses the shock right out of me, the flare of heat from his lips chasing away the cold. His mouth is heated and heavy on mine. He traces the path his thumb made with his tongue.