by Caroline Lee
Still, he lowered his voice—and his chin—when he said, “Cass, I’d hoped you knew me better than that. I had a great time pillaging your village, if you know what I mean” —he waggled his eyebrows and grinned when she blushed— “but it was more fun to just hang out with you.”
She worried her plump bottom lip between her teeth for a moment, still staring at his chest. What was she thinking about? What was going on in that pretty head of hers?
Finally, she peeked up at him again through her lashes. “More fun?”
His breath whooshed out of him in a half-relieved, half-scared chuckle, and he tightened his hold on her, making sure to press all of himself against her. “Well, how about we say both activities were equally fun? Because they were.”
She had to feel what he meant, but she didn’t shy away. Instead she wiggled a little against him, and he had to grin. Yeah, they’d definitely be all over the tabloids by tomorrow, and maybe not just because he was a prince. After all, Cass was due to become a princess by the end of the summer, when Mom married Dr. Hayes. When she became his stepsister.
If I don’t make her my wife first.
Wait, where had that thought come from? He wasn’t honestly thinking about marriage, was he?
Well, why not? Cass is a lot of fun, and I know I enjoy myself with her.
Shit, now he was arguing with himself.
Still, the thought of having a future with Cass didn’t scare him at all. It was more…exhilarating. He wanted the chance to investigate his reaction, but not now. Not while he was holding her and she was feeling so…so wonderfully soft and squishy.
“You look awesome.”
One side of her lips twitched. “Do I? I wasn’t sure what one wore to a regatta.”
Holding on to her hips, he pushed her away from him long enough to twist her one way and then the other. She was wearing the cutest little white shorts, flip-flops, and a long-sleeved blue button-up. It looked like it might’ve been her dad’s, and Kristoff found himself jealous. He wanted her to wear his clothes.
“One wears whatever one wants,” he said in a haughty tone.
One of her brows went up. “As evidenced by your choice of wardrobe, Your Highness?”
He was wearing his favorite board shorts and one of his two “good luck” t-shirts, so he wasn’t about to feel embarrassed. “Yeah,” he growled as he pulled her closer again. “Shoes are optional on my boat.”
She pressed against his chest. “I wish it was the shirt that was optional.”
The line was flirtatious and fun, just like he was used to, but there was something in the way she said it…something which made Kristoff wonder if she had been avoiding him these last few days.
But now wasn’t the time to pry, not really. There was only one thing he needed to know.
“Are you still willing to be my partner, Cass? I could take my shirt off, if that would help.”
Her smile was quick, but disappeared again just as quickly, and her gaze dropped to his throat again. “I think everyone would appreciate it if you took your shirt off, Kristoff.”
“Including you?”
“Yeah.” Another twitch of her lips, but she didn’t look up. “Especially me.”
“And the partner thing…?” Why was she avoiding this?
Her tongue darted out to run over her lips, and he had to focus on something else for a moment, remembering that tongue and the amazing things it could do. She was a massage therapist, for God’s sake…she knew the human body up, down, and sideways.
It had been an incredible few nights.
“Cass?”
She took a deep breath—one he felt all the way through—and finally met his eyes. “Are you sure you want me as a partner, Kristoff?”
The way she’d asked it sent a spike of panic through him, because he had the sudden feeling she wasn’t just talking about on the Älskvärd. Without thinking, he tightened his hold on her until he could pick her up and spin them both around, so his shoulders were blocking them both from the prying eyes he hadn’t minded so much a moment before.
“What do you mean?” he asked her quietly, urgently. “Why wouldn’t I want you, Cass?
Her fingers played with the fabric covering his chest. “I’m…I’m not the best choice, am I? I mean, I’m clumsy and—and—and I’m not very—” This time her deep breath sounded more like a choked sob, but she kept her attention on his chest. “I mean, I’m not exactly princess material. Neither is my dad. Well, consort material, I guess. He’d make a crummy princess, wouldn’t he?”
She laughed then, a watery chuckle which sounded close to panic. “I just meant, we don’t belong hanging out with you. You royals.” Her gulp was audible.
“Okay, first of all, your dad definitely belongs hanging out with my family, because my mom loves him.” Kristoff said the only thing he could think of to convince her. “And love doesn’t care about—about all that stuff. Mom has accepted him into the family, so you’re both part of it.”
When she still hadn’t looked up, Kristoff loosened his hold on her long enough to put two fingers beneath her chin and raise it. “And second of all,” he said quietly, “I like you just the way you are. A lot, Cassandra Hayes. I thought that was obvious.”
He tried a charming grin, and knew he’d missed the mark when she frowned slightly.
“I mean, yes,” he hurried to reassure her, “the whole sex thing was amazing, but…” He took a deep breath too. “But I like the way you make me laugh, Cass. I like your humor, and your wealth of knowledge about everything from the way my liver line goes down to my little toe to ancient Viking battle axes. I like just being with you, and that doesn’t have anything to do with what you look like. However,” he said quickly, “It’s pretty obvious I think you’re hot as hell. You know that, right? Cass?”
She studied him in silence for what seemed like forever, her lovely eyes darting over his face as if searching for the truth. He had to force himself to stand there quietly, to not squirm or do anything to make her think he wasn’t being sincere. Because he was being sincere.
I think I love you.
He wasn’t ready to admit it yet—not even to himself—but he let that knowledge shine as much as he could. And maybe it worked, because after a long moment she sighed, tension seeming to drain out of her…and she smiled slightly.
“Your big toe.”
Well, that hadn’t been what he’d been expecting. “What?”
“Your liver line ends down in your big toe. Not your little one.”
“See?” He began to chuckle and hugged her again. “This is why I like you so much.”
“Yeah, I’m kinda a toe expert,” she quipped with a straight face. “Other people might think it’s weird, but I’m glad you’re as dorky as I am.”
“Totally dorky,” he said right before he pulled her into a kiss.
After a while, he straightened, liking the way she stayed melted against him. “So, you’re still on to be my partner in the Regatta?”
If she didn’t want to be, he could call up his brother Mack for a last-minute substitution. Mack had been his partner in the past, since he was the only one in the family with any boating experience, and the only one Kristoff trusted not to puke or fall overboard anything smaller than the royal yacht. Still, Mack knew motorboats, not sailing, and the last three times they’d partnered for the Regatta, his duties had been limited to casting off and then smiling and waving to the spectators.
Kristoff would much rather have Cass, and not just because of those sexy little shorts she was wearing.
Okay, well, the shorts helped. But it was important that she knew her way around a sailboat while wearing those shorts. That’s what was important. Right.
Which is why he smiled so fiercely when she looked up at him and said, “Yeah, I’ll be your partner however you want me.” He kissed her again, just for the hell of it.
It was a while before he finally dragged her up to the registration tables. He’d pre-regis
tered, of course—he was on the planning board—but Cass needed to fill out all the forms. She laughed and teased and was utterly charming while she did so, until she had most of the staff in the palm of her hand. Kristoff just stood back and watched, beaming proudly like he’d done something to make her so wonderful.
Cass had crummy self-esteem, but she didn’t have anything to worry about. She really was charming, and people loved her. That’s what was important in life, rather than the superficial crap she’d focused on. He hoped he’d convinced her of that… But if he was lucky, he’d have a lot longer to devote to helping her see how wonderful she was.
Like, years.
Taking a deep breath, Kristoff reminded himself to focus on the here and now. The Regatta was tomorrow, and with Cass here, he was about a million times happier than he was an hour ago. Hopefully he could convince her to come down to the marina and check over all the last-minute stuff with him. Checking rigging wasn’t the most romantic way to spend an afternoon, but the cabin below had a pretty comfortable bed he wouldn’t mind showing off, once everything was done…
Getting ahead of yourself.
Still, when Cass was finally finished, he pulled her to her feet, and dragged her away from her new friends. She went laughing, waving at the staff and promising to do her very best to win tomorrow.
His jeep was parked out in front of the convention center, and he could have her down to the Älskvärd in under ten minutes. He was already mentally going through his on-board stores to see what he could make her for dinner in the tiny galley, and wondering if he needed to stop for wine on the way.
And that’s when he heard a familiar peal of laughter.
Kristoff managed to pull to a stop right before he ran into Britta, who was smiling like she wouldn’t have minded a collision at all. In fact, she lifted her hand to place it on his chest, like she’d planned the whole thing. He hurried to take a step back, pulling Cass against him.
“Well, hello Your Highness,” Britta trilled. “I hope you managed to find a decent partner for this year’s race?”
Why did she care? Still, Kristoff bristled. “Cass has agreed to be my partner, although it took a bit of convincing.” He wrapped his arm around her middle, so Britta couldn’t miss the message he intended. “I think we’ve got a good chance at winning.”
The look Britta shot Cass was one of pure loathing, and hinted at something more between them. Cass looked away, and his heart clenched at how quickly she had reverted to the way she’d been acting an hour ago. What was going on here? Did this have something to do with Cass’s avoiding him over the last few days?
Britta snapped her predatory gaze back to his. “That confidence is wonderful, Your Highness. Still, I wouldn’t want you to be over confident. Have you met my brother?”
The seeming non-sequitur took Kristoff by surprise, and he only shook his head. Britta waved to a blonde man chatting with a staff member.
“Hans! Dear, come meet someone special.”
The man who languidly crossed the large room towards them had Britta’s blue eyes and slim build, and was wearing a set of pristine white pants and a sweater knotted around his shoulders. In fact, Britta was wearing something very similar. A uniform, almost?
When Hans arrived, his sister kissed him on the cheek. “This is Prince Kristoff, my dear. Kristoff, this is my brother, Hans Jensen.”
It wasn’t the name—a common enough name in this part of the world—but the man’s smile as he reached out to shake Kristoff’s hand. It was full of arrogance and pride, like he knew what he was owed. He smiled like a prince, in a way none of Kristoff’s brothers would ever smile.
Well, maybe Alek.
Still, Kristoff recognized that smile. Most of the sailing world recognized that smile, from several years back.
“Hans Jensen, who won the Olympic bronze for Denmark?”
“The same, Your Highness.” The man added an extra-tight squeeze to the word. “I hope you don’t mind me popping over to your charming little nation when my sister told me about this quaint tradition? My schedule is always full, but I thought I could spare a day or two to help my sister win this Regatta.”
Win this Regatta, huh? The man was obviously trying to be irritating, maybe force Kristoff into making a mistake? But Kristoff wasn’t falling for it; in fact, he had to fight to keep the smile from his face at the other man’s arrogance. He’d been raised in a royal palace, for God’s sake. He’d seen plenty of real arrogance.
Kristoff added a squeeze of his own right before he dropped the other man’s hand. “You’re welcome to try for it.” He wanted to win—needed to win—so that Enriching Children would get the prize money. But it also wasn’t like he’d die if he lost—he’d just find some other way to get them the money. “But I hope your engine doesn’t need any work.”
The other man was frowning as he stepped back beside his sister, and Kristoff smirked slightly to see their identical sour expressions.
“Why not?” Hans was clearly trying to determine if he’d just been threatened.
Kristoff shrugged. “Well, I’d hate for those snazzy white pants of yours to get ruined.” He nodded at Hans’s legs. “Probably not enough bleach to get grease out of ‘em. Isn’t there an old saying about a sailor’s blood being mainly engine grease and salt water?”
Hans bristled at the implication he wasn’t a real sailor, just as Kristoff had intended. “I think you’ll be disappointed you impugned my sailing skills, Your Highness.”
Kristoff just shrugged, and Hans’s frown deepened.
“In fact, I think you’ll find real sailors are willing to put their money where their mouths are.”
“I think real sailors do it because they love the sport, not because they have to prove anything.” Kristoff shrugged again. “But I’m not averse to a little wager.” He had money, after all.
The other man shared a triumphant grin with his sister which should’ve worried Kristoff. But it was hard to be worried with his arm around Cass.
“There’s no need to be extravagant. After all, the purpose is just so we each know who won, right?” Then Hans named a surprisingly low number.
“Sure.” Kristoff stuck his hand out to shake on the wager. Wouldn’t be the first time he’d bet on the outcome of one of his races…and he’d lost a few, too.
But instead of shaking his hand, Hans shifted his weight until he was almost lounging. He glanced speculatively between his smirking sister and Cass. “I’ve heard there’s already a few wagers riding on this race, right?”
Kristoff had no idea what the man was talking about, but from the way Cass stiffened in his arms, she did. He glanced down, about to ask if she was alright, but was surprised to see her staring daggers at Britta.
She’d looked so uncomfortable when the other woman had arrived, but now Cass was looking like a little Viking warrior, ready to defend him. His heart—and other things—swelled at the realization, and all he wanted was to get her alone again.
“So what’s a few more, eh?”
Hans’s comment didn’t make any sense. A few more what? Oh, wagers, he must mean. What had they been talking about?
Britta seemed to have been waiting for her brother’s cue. “Oh, I have an idea!” she said in a totally-just-came-up-with-this fakey voice. “What if we bet on the charity the winner gives the money to?”
Before Kristoff could ask what she meant, Hans clapped his hands too enthusiastically to be natural. “Brilliant, sister! The winner gets to donate the money, but the first runner-up gets to name the charity, right?”
“Oh, you’re so clever, dear Hans.” Britta swung a predatory grin on Kristoff. “You don’t mind that little wager, do you, Kristoff?”
At this point he’d agree to anything just to get away from these two and get Cass alone.
“Whatever,” he said dismissively, still smiling down at the woman in his arms. “I don’t need your money, but I can add it to the pot when I win.”
He heard Ha
ns chuckle, but when he looked up, the siblings were smiling politely at him.
“Of course, Prince Kristoff,” Britta all-but-purred. “We’ll see you tomorrow, out on the water.”
He didn’t bother to reply, but pulled Cass past them and out the door. She was still glaring over her shoulder at Britta the whole way. It was only when he had her almost to the Jeep that he pulled her to a stop.
“Hey, Earth to Cass! What was that all about?” Why had she been so distracted and angry at Britta?
“What? Oh.” She blinked, then shook her head slightly. “Nothing. I mean, there’s no problem. I just…” She scowled. “I just don’t like Britta very much.”
Neither did he, but Kristoff didn’t want to focus on that. “So why don’t we talk about the race, hmmm?”
She glanced at his Jeep, then at him, and seemed to relax a bit. “You look like you’re ready to go sailing right now.”
“I am.” He tugged her towards the passenger side door. “I need to head to the Älskvärd this afternoon and check over a few things. I was hoping I could talk you into coming too.”
“To help?” She raised her brow playfully. “Or something else?”
“I wanted to ask you more about Viking sailing practices,” he said as he lifted her into the passenger seat. “For research.”
“Well, you know I’m very academic,” she said seriously as he hurried to his side and climbed in. “But surely that’s not why you need me now?”
He could hear the teasing in her voice, so he waggled his eyebrows right back as he pulled into traffic heading towards the waterfront. “Oh, I need you, alright. Right now, later, tomorrow, whenever.”
It wasn’t a lie. The last few days had felt wrong, somehow, without her. But like he’d intended, she took his joke to mean he needed her sexually…and instead of blushing, her gaze grew speculative. He loved that about her; she could match him passion for passion; whether that was sailing or sex.
“After we flemish the lines, I was hoping I could cook you some dinner on board. And maybe show off the forward bunk.”
