I want to do things right this time.
And I want to introduce her to the world as my bride. The beautifulBeatrice.
I say her name, relishing the taste of it on my tongue, and her cheeks flush. “I prefer Bea, actually,” she murmurs.
Bea, then. My Bea.
Now that I’m with her again, I can’t ever let her go.
“Will you let me in?” If she says no, that’s okay. I’ll come back tomorrow. I’ll send flowers and texts. It took me far too long, but I’m finally thinking straight again, and I know where I need to be. By her side. “Are you busy?”
Bea snorts. “Yeah.” She waves a hand at her sweatshirt. “I’m in the middle of a hot date.”
She’s joking—and fuck, how did I ever think she was meek?—but the thought alone makes me growl. Bea dating another man? Hell no. Everything about that thought is wrong.
I crowd her against the door frame, hands gripping her waist and squeezing tight through the baggy fabric. Her gasp makes my pulse leap. “Your prince wants a word.”
Bea huffs, her head tipping back against the wood. Her lids are heavy, her pupils blown, but she says, “My prince can make an appointment like a normal person.”
That’s fair. It’s not like I’ve earned any special treatment, but I can’t help pushing. Asking, hoping,longingfor more.
I press closer, heart hammering. “Fine.Iwant a word, then. Alden.”
The pink tip of her tongue darts out, wetting her bottom lip, and I nearly burst into flames right here in the doorway. A small smile curls her lips. “Alright. Come in.”
Bea
It’s weird seeing the prince off palace grounds. Like discovering a celebrity making coffee in your kitchen. And he’s so out of place in my small apartment, his white shirtsleeves rolled to the elbows and his bronze hair rucked up like he’s been running his hands through it.
“Um.” I watch the Prince of Caledithia glare at my pepper spray, his jaw tense. My waist tingles where he touched me moments ago, and my abandoned sneakers lie against the wall near his feet. Should have tidied up this morning, damn it. “Would you like a coffee? A glass of water?”
Blue eyes pin me to the floor. Oh, god. I forgot how intense he can be. “No, Bea. I wantyou.”
And I’ve concocted so many daydreams of this moment, so many versions of this fantasy. A thousand Aldens have knocked on my door in my mind. But now that it’s happening, I don’t know what to say. It doesn’t feel real.
“There’s also fresh orange juice,” I mumble. “The kind with pulp.”
“Bea.” The prince’s voice deepens. His shirt rises and falls with each breath. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. About everything. And I know you probably want me gone, but if you’ll let me stay a little while, all I want to do is start making things up to you.”
An image flashes across my mind. A certain promise about kneeling for me.
No, he can’t mean that.
Not that Alden needs to apologize, anyway. I’d have been furious in his position, too. Hell, I’mstillmad at myself, even if he’s over it.
“What changed your mind? Is this because I went off script?”
Alden frowns at me. “What?”
Oh. So it’s not about the interview, then. I cast around for some other reason for his presence, for anything that might have spurred a change of heart, but I draw a blank. This makes no sense. How can he go from radio silence to declaring he wants me just like that? And how can I be sure he won’t change his mind again?
“What do you mean, off script?”
I wave a hand, impatient. “I said some nice things about you earlier, that’s all. Danika already knows and she approved the comments, don’t worry.”
“Nice things?” A slow smile spreads over the prince’s face, his eyes roaming down my front, and the hairs rise on my neck. My pulse taps faster in my throat. “Nicethings. So you still have some warm feelings for me, Bea.”
“Of course I do.” I have made zero effort to hide that fact. What’s his point?