We need to chat.
I’ve just finished my water and started to relax when Ellie walks through the doorway, looking clean and fresh in her little yoga shorts and orange tank top.
For a moment, I swore we were still in Montana.
It makes my gut tighten, and my heart ache.
I hold out my hand for hers and tug her into my lap, where she curls up and presses her face to my neck, breathing deeply.
“You smell good,” I whisper before pressing a kiss to her damp hair.
“I needed to wash all of that off,” she admits softly.
“Did you have a good time?”
“No.” It’s a short, simple answer. “I shouldn’t have said those things to Gretchen.”
“Which time?”
She shrugs a shoulder. “Both times. She just makes me so angry. Last year, she attended Nina’s bridal shower and announced to her table of so-called friends, loud enough for Nina to hear, of course, that Sebastian would be back in her bed before long. She’s a horrible person, and I hate that she’s always at these events where she can spit at everyone.”
“Why is she always invited?”
“She’s related to someone somehow and has Lady before her name. I honestly don’t know much about her because I’ve always steered clear of her. I don’t trust her.”
She sits up and looks me in the eyes.
“And I need to apologize to you.”
“Why?” I brush her hair over her shoulder and draw light circles on her chin with my thumb. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I should have defended you more. I should have just told them that we are together, and I should have given her more of my wrath for implying that you’re not good enough to be with me. But I don’t trust them, Liam. At all. They’re not good women, and they’re not my friends, and it’s none of their bloody business. Besides, I haven’t even told my family about you.”
“El, they’re not wrong.” She scowls, and I shake my head. “I’m not good enough for you.”
“That’s absolutely preposterous.”
“Is it?” I kiss her cheek and then set her on her feet so I can stand and pace the patio. “You’re Princess Eleanor Wakefield, and I’m Liam, former soldier and messed-up dude from Montana. I don’t fit in this world, Ellie. Not as anything but your employee.”
“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” she replies, propping her hands on her hips. “You’re a wonderful man, and you’re everything I want, Liam. I’ve been meaning to talk to my parents about you, but time has passed so quickly this week. But that stops now. I’m happy to shout how much I love you from the rooftops right this minute.”
She takes my hand and tries to drag me behind her, but I stay rooted where I am, uttterly shell-shocked by her words.
“You what?”
“I’m going to shout it from the rooftops.”
“The other part.”
She narrows her eyes and then steps closer to me, dragging her hand down my chest.
“Did you think that we could go through everything we’ve been through these past few weeks and I wouldn’t fall desperately in love with you?”
“El—”
“You have quickly become the best part of my life, Liam. I know it’s not going to be easy, and there are more pieces to this puzzle than there would be for most people, but we can make it work. Because I’ve come alive since I met you, and I can’t imagine my life without you. You can fit in here, or anywhere, as long as we stick together.”
“I don’t deserve you, Eleanor.” I pull her against me and kiss her hard. This is the woman I fell for, this open, quick-to-smile, fun-loving person that has become a part of me. “I love you, too.”
Her face lights up, and I feel like the luckiest man in the fucking universe.
“We can go tell my parents right now,” she offers.
“Your dad’s already had one heart attack, let’s not wake him and give him another.”
She laughs but smacks me on the arm.
“That’s not funny. He won’t have a heart attack. But if you hurt me, he could have you killed. You should know that now before we tell them.”
I nod, enjoying the hell out of her for the first time since we got here. “Duly noted. It’s a good thing I know how to take care of myself.”
She grins and moans when I sink into her lips, nibbling and devouring her the way I’ve wanted to all evening.
I pick her up in my arms, take her inside, and once the door is shut and locked, I carry her to the large, king-sized bed in her opulent bedroom and set her on the mattress.
This is my Ellie.
Mine.
I plant my knee on the bed and crawl over her, urging her to lay beneath me. My hands glide up her arms, and with her hands pinned over her head, I drag the tip of my tongue over her skin from the dip in her cleavage, up between her collarbones, to her neck and her mouth.
“You smell fucking amazing,” I whisper.
“What do I smell like?”
“Mine.” I kiss her chin. “You smell like mine, Eleanor.”
I’ve never been in a situation where I had to sit in a room alone with a woman’s father to answer questions before.
Let’s be honest, I’ve never let it get that far with anyone. If a woman started making noises about introducing me to her family, well, that was when it was time to cut and run.
I suppose it only makes sense that my first time for this sort of thing would be with one of the most powerful men in the freaking world.
I blow out a breath, square my shoulders, and walk into the king’s office.
“You asked to see me, Your Majesty.”
He looks up from the papers he’s reading and nods. “I did. Come, sit. Shut the door.”
I do as I’m asked and sit across from the king.
I don’t think I was this nervous when I was in the middle of gunfire in the Middle East.
For a long moment, Ellie’s father doesn’t say anything at all. He watches me with narrowed eyes the same color as his daughter’s.
A lesser man would squirm.
Lucky for me, I’ve been in interrogation situations with the enemy and didn’t crack under the pressure.
The king isn’t my enemy. And he doesn’t have a bullwhip in one hand, ready to crack it across my bare back.
That’s a story I didn’t tell Ellie. Someday, maybe.
“I had a conversation with my daughter this morning,” he finally begins and sits back in his chair. “Eleanor is my only daughter, my youngest child, and perhaps the most headstrong of the bunch.”
I smile softly. Yes, she is that.
“I was surprised that you didn’t join her when she came to speak to her mother and me about her relationship with you.”
“I wanted to,” I say immediately. “In fact, I would have preferred it, but she wanted to talk with you privately.”
He nods. “Headstrong,” he says again. “It seems you’ve gotten tangled up in a relationship with my daughter.”
“That’s one way to put it.”
He raises a brow. “How would you phrase it then, Mr. Cunningham?”