The Stepsister's Prince (The Royal Wedding Book 3)

by Caroline Lee

  “Cass? I’m sorry, sweetheart, this isn’t—”

  He did his best to remove Britta’s arms from his neck, but the woman was like a limpet; hard and moist and determined. And Cass just looked…accepting. Like she’d expected Britta to end up in his arms.

  “Cass…?” he whispered.

  “Oh, Cassandra!” Britta’s high-pitched surprise was too faked as she swung around. “I didn’t see you there, you’re so invisible, really, aren’t you?” She giggled. “Look at me, tripping and falling—it’s like something you would do! Anyhow, Kristoff was just getting ready to dance with me.”

  “No, I wasn’t,” he protested her unnecessary rudeness.

  Cass didn’t seem to hear him. “That’s great,” she said dully. “I’m sure you two will be very happy dancing together.”

  What the hell? “Cass, what are you—”

  “Come on, Kristoff!” Britta tugged at him. “Cass says it’s okay for us to dance.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “So we’re going to dance.” Her voice became steelier, more determined.

  Kristoff straightened. “I don’t want to dance.”

  He looked between the two women, and realized there was something going on he didn’t understand. He latched on to Britta’s wrists and pulled them off him, pushing her away as far as he could manage with her fighting him.

  Whereas the wedding planner had been sweet and sensual a moment before, now her blue eyes spit cold fire and her mouth was an unattractive white line as she glared at Cass.

  Cass seemed to wilt even further, shrinking into herself, all of the vibrant glow he loved so much diminished.

  “You have to,” she whispered, staring at his shoes.

  “What?”

  Her tongue flicked out over her lips. “You have to dance with her, Kristoff.”

  From the corner of his eye, he saw Britta preen, but she wasn’t worth his attention. “Why?” Why would he have to dance with such a pretentious, fake woman?

  “She won the race,” Cass said in a voice so low it was a miracle he heard it at all. “So she’s your date tonight.”

  Just like that, it all made sense, and Kristoff threw his head back and laughed. His laughter was loud and a little desperate, and drew more attention than he wanted, but he couldn’t help it.

  It was funny.

  “Kristoff…”

  It was the way she’d said his name which shut him up. Embarrassed, small. Like she was disappointed in him, almost. His lips snapped closed, and he stepped towards her.

  “Cass, you and Britta—what? You had some kind of—of bet?” He’d been focused on the dumb wager he’d made with Hans, and had totally missed Cass’s history with Britta.

  When she peeked up at him and nodded slightly, he felt the laughter trying to climb his throat. He swallowed it, because she was still looking miserable.

  “So, you threw the race, in order to help me out, even though it meant losing to Britta?”

  When she nodded again, he stepped forward and placed one finger under her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Cass, talk to me.” He did his best to ignore Britta behind them. “You really bet me?”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her lovely brown eyes full of tears. “I wanted to—”

  When she bit down on whatever she was going to say, he nudged her. “You wanted what, sweetheart?” he whispered.

  “I wanted you to be happy,” she wailed.

  He was chuckling when he pulled her into his arms and pressed her face against his shoulder. To his utter relief, her arms snaked around his middle and she seemed to burrow into his chest.

  This is where she belonged. Where he belonged.

  “I’m happy like this, sweetheart. Bet or no bet, race or no race, I’m not going to go against what my heart tells me.”

  She stiffened slightly. “Your heart?” she asked against his jacket lapel.

  “I love you, Cassandra Hayes.”

  Cass made a noise somewhere between a squeak and a sob, and pulled away just far enough to stare up at him. “But—but—?”

  “But what?” He raised one brow.

  She stepped back farther, pulling him so he could see a very pissed-off Britta. The other woman was tapping her foot, and ugly red splotches were climbing up her neck.

  Cass took a deep breath. “But Britta. She’s a friend of your aunt’s and she’s beautiful, and way better adjusted to life in court, obviously. You’d be silly to want to date a woman like me when you could have a woman like her.”

  The wedding planner slowly relaxed under Cass’s praise, her hand coming up to fluff her blonde hair and the other resting confidently on her hip.

  She might’ve been sexy to someone else—someone who liked skinny, conniving blondes—but not Kristoff. He fought down his smile, and said the one thing he knew would convince both women he wasn’t interested in Britta.

  “I dunno. Isn’t she a little old for me?” Ignoring the way Britta gasped and stiffened in outrage, he continued, “I mean, she’s Aunt Marina’s friend. Doesn’t that make her—what, like forty-five or something?”

  While Britta sputtered, uttering the first syllables of a half-dozen sentences, Kristoff tightened his hold on Cass, and waited until she looked up at him in disbelief. It was obvious she’d never considered the age difference between him and Britta, but the woman was almost fifteen years older than him.

  Britta’s age wouldn’t have mattered if he genuinely liked the woman, but she was fake and brittle and entirely too pushy. Cass, on the other hand…

  “She’s pretty, Cass, but you’re gorgeous. You’re the woman I want in my arms for the rest of my life, and no bet and no race is going to change that.”

  He saw the exact moment she understood what he was saying, the exact moment she believed it as the truth. Her expression softened and her eyes glistened with tears, and she seemed to melt against him.

  “Really, Kristoff?”

  “I love you, Cass.”

  “I—”

  He never found out what she was going to say, because in that moment the yacht gave a mighty lurch. Britta stumbled against him, and he dropped one arm around Cass to brace himself against the wall to catch all three of them. All around them, people were catching one another and exclaiming in shock.

  Kristoff righted both of the women—without letting Cass go—and used his height to scan the room. No one was on the ground—thank God—but there was a lot of angry voices and worried faces.

  What had happened? The yacht was still moored, which had allowed guests to come and go. It wasn’t like they could’ve collided with something…right?

  No sooner had he had that thought than a piercing alarm began to blare. Everyone in the ballroom froze for a moment, before erupting into panic.

  Kristoff tightened his hold on Cass and looked down at her grimly.

  “What’s that?” she asked over the alarm.

  He hated to have to say it. “The ‘Abandon Ship’ notice. We’re sinking.”

  From around them, the screams began, as guests realized the same thing. Britta pushed away from him, yelling for her brother to come save her. Aunt Marina hurried by, her face a mask of terror, repeating “Oh my God, no, no, no!”

  But Cass…? Cass just stared up at him trustingly. She wasn’t freaked out that the yacht would sink under them—maybe she’d figured out that moored the way they were, everyone would be able to get to shore without trouble—the yacht would only settle halfway up the topsides, at most.

  But the yacht would be useless, and the family would look ridiculous.

  His jaw hardened at the thought. He had to stop this.

  He and Cass were pressed against the wall farthest from the main doors, through which people were now streaming. Uniformed crew members were urging people to hurry, but also making calming gestures. His youngest brothers were helping—Johan held the arms of an elderly couple and Viggo had a kid on each hip as he followed the children’s mother out one of the
side doors. Kristoff couldn’t see Mack or Arne, but they were probably up to their necks in Aegirians too. Alek and Mother—and Dr. Hayes too—were being whisked out, judging from the clump of black-clad bodyguards pushing their way through the masses.

  There was so much chaos it was almost impossible to hear anything specific. But Britta was still turning in a circle, screaming her brother’s name. When Hans appeared out of the crowd, she threw herself at him, her expression angry and terrified all at once.

  With her brother pulling her towards the door, she turned back to Kristoff and pointed one long finger at him. She screamed, “I’m done with you horrible people! You can’t say that to me, and then try to kill me, and still expect me to work for you!”

  As she disappeared into the mass of frantic guests, Kristoff felt his heartbeat slow. Everyone was safe. Everyone was getting off the yacht. But the yacht itself…

  “I have to get to the engine room.” He looked down at Cass. “Do you want to go with your father?”

  Her arms tightened around his middle, and she lifted herself up on her toes. “Is he safe?” She had to yell to be heard over the alarm.

  Kristoff nodded. “As safe as my mother is.”

  “Then I want to go with you.”

  Thank God. He didn’t waste any time, but pulled her towards a service door set into the back wall. There’d be a corridor back here which led—ah, yes, good.

  “We can take this to the engine room,” he called as he hurried up the corridor, pulling her behind him. It was easier to speak in here, because the alarm was muffled by the rooms on either side.

  She had her dress in one hand and had already kicked off her shoes. “Why would a prince know about the behind-the-scenes parts of a ship?” she called in a teasing tone in between gulps of air.

  When they came to a steep staircase he dropped her hand, but slowed slightly so she wouldn’t tire herself out. They began to climb.

  “Viggo and Johan used to get lost in here all the time, playing hide and find. Mack and I had to rescue them on more than one occasion—it’s what made us both fall in love with boats, I think.” That, and the fun they used to have paddling around on the lake up in the mountains as kids.

  “So,” she panted behind him, “You’re pretty sure you know where we’re going?”

  “The engine room’s up this way.”

  “And what can we do that the captain can’t? I mean, shouldn’t he already be there?”

  “He should be, but then he would’ve toned down this alarm.”

  At the top of the stairs he pushed open the door in time to see someone in dark clothes disappearing around the corner up ahead. Who the hell is that? The engine room was this way, but the man—had it been a man?—was heading towards the galley. Maybe he was lost, but what was he doing back here?

  “Kristoff?” Cass called from behind him, and he shook himself and started for the engine room access.

  The door was locked from this side.

  As he threw the lock, Kristoff glanced once more down the corridor. Had that person locked the engine room for some reason? What—

  Oh.

  As soon as they slipped inside, several things became obvious at once.

  The reason no one had turned down the alarm was because the on-duty crew member was lying on the floor, his hands bound with zip ties and a big bruise on his forehead.

  The reason the captain wasn’t there was because the main door to the engine room was jammed with a broom, and Captain Nilssen was yelling angrily on the other side while someone jiggled at the knob.

  And the reason the yacht was sinking was because some idiot had opened all the seacocks.

  “Cass!” he yelled as he pointed to the door, trusting she’d know what to do. He leapt towards the control panel, but hesitated, his fingers hovering. Where’s the command? He’d been up here before, spending time at the helm while Captain Nilssen watched closely on their family outings, but the seacocks had never been part of his instruction—

  There!

  He flipped the proper toggle switch, and the light turned to green. Belowdecks he could imagine the machinery churning to force the seacocks closed, to trap in the water already inside. The yacht was sitting much lower in the water, but at least it wasn’t actively sinking anymore.

  Kristoff breathed a sigh of relief as the captain burst in—his XO hot on his heels—and lunged for the “Abandon Ship” alarm. In the sudden silence after he flipped it off, Kristoff swore he could hear all of them breathing.

  “Does anyone have scissors?”

  Cass’s question, asked in a low voice from the floor, seemed to break the spell. He turned to see her bent over the crew member who’d been wounded, and the yacht’s executive officer fumbled a knife out of his pocket and sunk to his knees beside the man’s wrists.

  Kristoff crossed the room in two strides and pulled Cass to her feet, wrapping his arms around her and breathing gratefully the scent of her hair. They were alive. They were safe—all safe now.

  Belatedly, she began to shake, and buried her face in his chest. He stroked her back and made soothing noises, trying to maintain his own composure.

  “Thank you, Your Highness.”

  Beside the control panel, Captain Nilssen was already flipping and punching various buttons, presumably to get the yacht back to proper trim and out of the danger zone. Still, he took the time to nod to Kristoff over his shoulder.

  “I’d sent a man to find a way into the service corridor and let us in, but thank you for getting here first,” the older man said stiffly. “Did you see who did this?”

  Kristoff shook his head. He hadn’t seen anyone well enough to identify him or her. “The door to the corridor was locked from that side.”

  “The bastard.” Captain Nilssen turned back to the board and his frantic efforts. “Anders, get on the horn and alert whoever’s outside—the police, even—that some terrorist attempted to scuttle my ship!”

  As the XO leapt to do as the captain ordered—leaving the crew member sitting up, groaning and holding his head—the old man glanced over his shoulder at Kristoff once more.

  “Your quick thinking likely saved us. Who knows how much damage would’ve happened while we waited for Hagen to find a way in?”

  Kristoff nodded back, not sure he could trust his voice to say, “You’re welcome.”

  With the captain poking buttons and cursing under his breath once more, Cass made a sound which could’ve been a laugh or a sob.

  “You’re a hero.”

  “I don’t feel like a hero,” he whispered, completely honestly. “I was terrified.”

  “We were all terrified, but you did something about it. You saved the day,” she said against his chest.

  He gave a little snort of laughter. “My brother saved the day by punching a man so hard he died—did you know that? I saved the day by flipping a toggle switch.”

  “You’re my hero.” She leaned back far enough so she could look up at him, without loosening her hold on him. “I love you, Kristoff.”

  And suddenly he wasn’t so terrified anymore. Despite her grip on him, and his on her, the band around his chest eased. “You do?” he asked, a smile already tugging at his lips.

  “I do.” Her eyes were serious. “I love that you love me despite all my imperfections, and I love how caring and open and real you are. You’re true to yourself, even if it’s not the way I expected a prince to act.”

  He was strapped into a tuxedo and these formal shoes pinched his feet. “I would much rather be on my boat.”

  “Or rock climbing?” she teased.

  He leaned down, his lips brushing against her forehead. “Or getting a massage from you.”

  She lifted herself up on her tiptoes. “Or in bed?”

  He was smiling when their lips met.

  And so was she.

  EPILOGUE

  “There he is, the man of the hour!”

  At his brother’s cry, Kristoff jerked in surprise. Cass tigh
tened her grip on his hand and pulled him into the room in the police station where the Royal family had gathered after they were evacuated from their yacht.

  Mack was standing beside the door, and he gave Kristoff a mighty whack on his shoulder, while Dad hurried across the room to wrap his arms around Cass. She let go of Kristoff’s hand just in time.

  In typical William Hayes fashion, her father forgot he wasn’t thirty and she wasn’t three, and tried to lift her up off the ground. It was only Viggo’s quick reaction which kept them both from slamming into the doorjamb.

  “I was so worried about you, Jellybean,” Dad said, when he finally set her upright.

  She could see the truth of that in his expression, and strove to make light of it. “Everything was cool, Dad. Kristoff saved the day.”

  “I toggled a switch,” Kristoff said dryly, coming up to stand behind her.

  She didn’t miss a beat, but nodded earnestly at her father. “A very important switch.”

  “So I heard,” Dad said. Then he sighed and held out his hand to Kristoff. “Thank you for keeping her safe. And for saving such a beautiful ship.”

  Cass swore Kristoff flushed slightly as he shook her father’s hand. “No worries, Dr. Hayes.”

  “Pops,” Dad corrected.

  Kristoff stared at the man for a moment, then nodded. “Pops.”

  It felt somehow momentous, as if the two men had accepted one another. Dad gave her a peck on the cheek, then moved back across the room to take the queen in his arms. Cass snaked her arm around Kristoff’s middle, and liked the way he pulled her closer.

  From his spot on the couch, where he sat between Emma and Marina—both holding blankets around their shoulders, and his arm around Emma—Arne nodded at Kristoff. “You did good work.”

  Kristoff snorted. “You guys were the ones saving kids and—and—” He waved his free hand around. “Being heroes. I literally just toggled a switch.”

  Cass nudged him with her hip. “An important switch,” she repeated.

  Alek spoke up from his chair by the wall, where Toni stood beside him protectively, her hand on his shoulder. “We had word from Captain Nilssen about what happened, while you two were on your way over. It sounds like without your intervention, the yacht might very well have sunk, even with people left on board.”