“I hated it for a long time,” he told her. “The eyes on me. That feeling that they would think I was lesser because I didn’t look the way society thought I should look, whatever that means.”
“But you … own it now.” She’d seen the footage from his last movie premiere. He and Bev on the red carpet, and he hadn’t been wearing his signature hoodie.
He shrugged. “This is who I am. Once I accepted that it got easier.”
“But how? How did you … accept it?”
He exhaled, then shrugged. “I weighed what was important over what wasn’t.” He ran his hand over the right side of his face. “Bev won.”
“You make it sound easy.”
“It wasn’t,” he said. “Or, it wasn’t until it was.”
“What changed?”
“I fell in love,” he said simply. “When you let it, love makes everything easy.” He smiled, only the unscarred part of his mouth curving up, then reached out to cup her shoulder. “You’ll be fine, Skye.”
He started to walk away, but she reached out and grabbed his sleeve. “Griff, wait.”
He turned back, a question in his eyes.
“Did I make a mistake not going with him?”
He shook his head, just the tiniest of motions. “Only you know that. And if you did, well, there’s this cool invention called an airplane…”
Griffin’s words stayed with Skye throughout the night, so much so that she left The Fix early because she was so lost in her thoughts she got tired of asking her friends what they were talking about.
By the time she woke up, she’d made a decision, even though she hadn’t actually sat down to weigh the pros and cons. It just was. It felt right. And once she’d decided, she knew there was no going back.
She was going to Avelle-am-see.
She wasn’t going to text first. She wasn’t going to ask what he wanted. That wasn’t the point. This was about her—it was about owning who she was and what she wanted. About conquering her fears and taking that giant leap and every other stupid but accurate cliché she could come up with.
She was just doing it. She was just going.
And she was damn proud of herself for deciding.
Still, she couldn’t take the leap without telling her father. Not only was he her boss and the only family she had, but she also loved him. He deserved to know, especially since she intended to leave the next morning, and that meant she was going to miss the symposium. A total bonus, as far as she was concerned.
There was the small problem of actually getting to Leo once she was in his country. She had a feeling that Americans weren’t allowed to just enter the palace and wander freely, but she still had Jürgen’s contact info. And unless Leo had told his friend and security chief that he never wanted to see Skye again, she had a feeling that Jürgen would help her. She hoped so, because without him her plan had some serious holes in it. She’d still go through with it, of course, but she’d have to come up with a Plan B.
At the moment, she was fresh out of Plan Bs.
That was something she’d worry about later, she thought as she stepped off the elevator at her father’s floor. She passed reception and headed toward his office, only to see his Mary’s head pop up, her eyes going wide as she saw Skye.
“Skye,” she said. “What a happy coincidence. Your father just asked me to track you down. He needs to see you in his office.”
“Oh.” She tried to think what he could possibly need, but nothing except the symposium came to mind. She grimaced. She’d hoped to entice one of the other associates into stepping into her shoes before she officially bailed, but so far she’d found no one willing to take the bait.
“Um, right,” Skye said. “So, should … I just go in?”
“Of course. He’s expecting you.”
She had a moment of panic—what if he freaked out when she told him her plan? But then she calmed. She was an adult. This was her life. And her dad was just going to have to support her.
She straightened her back, lifted her chin, and pushed his office door open, determined to be cool and confident.
She froze the moment she stepped over the threshold.
He was right there.
Leo.
Just sitting in one of her dad’s guest chairs in a bespoke suit, looking about as pulled together and sexy as a man could get.
She opened her mouth, shut it again, then looked at her dad. “What…?” But the word didn’t come out right at all. Instead, she just whimpered some sort of question-like sound.
“Skye,” Leo said, then stood. “Oh, God, Skye.”
“His, ah, His Majesty has something to discuss with you,” her father said, and in her crazed bewilderment, Skye almost laughed. Because when in his life had Tarlton Anderson Porter ever been befuddled?
“I’m here to hire the firm,” Leo said, his eyes on Skye.
“Hire?” Her brain wasn’t firing right at the moment.
“The palace would like to engage our services to consult with them on amending their constitution,” her father said.
Slowly, the words gathered meaning. “I’m sorry. What?”
“His Majesty has requested that the associate with the most expertise accompany him back to his country to work with his team in-house at the palace.”
She swallowed, unable to take her eyes off of Leo. “Has he?”
“He has,” Leo said. “We’ve been thinking many things, actually.”
Her brows rose. “The royal we? Are you serious?”
“Skye!” Her father’s admonition filled the room, and Skye laughed. So did Jürgen, whom she noticed by the bookcase for the first time. She glanced his way, caught his wink, and realized that the world was full of sunshine.
In front of her, Leo laughed. “Just checking. I’ve been thinking a lot of things.”
“Have you?” Her voice sounded so hoarse.
He nodded toward Jürgen, who moved toward Skye’s father, then whispered something. A moment later, her father caught her eye, then stepped out of the room along with the bodyguard.
She swallowed, feeling suddenly nervous. “So … um … what have you been thinking?”
“That I want you there with me, for one. That amending the constitution is a long process, and that you are uniquely qualified to help.”
“I see.”
“If you accept the position, you’ll work with the palace legal staff—they all speak English, by the way. And when your team is ready, we’ll present the amendment. If it passes, I will abdicate the throne, serving instead as both prince and science minister.”
She nodded slowly, taking it all in.
Leo stood, then walked toward her. He reached out, and took her hands, and the touch of his skin against hers felt like coming home. “And, though you may not realize it,” he said softly, “while the king’s choices are limited, a prince can marry anyone. Even an American lawyer.”
“Wow,” she said. “You folks have … no standards at all.”
“None,” he said, and they shared a smile.
“And if the amendment doesn’t pass?”