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“In the battle that killed your team,” her father said.
His grip tightened on his knees. “Yes.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” her mother said. And she actually sounded as if she was. “That must have been hard.”
“Thank you. It was.” He paused. “It is.”
“We can still spin him as a decorated officer of the American military,” Mary interrupted, watching the royal couple. “It’s not a prince, but it’s better than nothing. Also, I did some digging on his background. He got the Purple Heart for his bravery over there. He carried a dead Marine to safety.”
Gordon stiffened. “He’s right here and can speak for himself.”
“Calm yourself, boy,” the ambassador said, waving a hand. “You’ll have to get used to this if you’re truly willing to help.”
Gordon hesitated. “I am…”
“Good.” Her father cleared his throat. “So, a heroic American military officer swept Princess Isabelle off her feet, and they had a whirlwind romance that would rival a romantic movie’s plot. Romantic dinners. Boat rides in the moonlight. Sweet kisses under arched bridges in the sunset.”
Mary nodded. “Yes. Exactly.”
“Unbelievable,” Gordon said, laughing under his breath. “What’s next? We fell in love and eloped without telling anyone?”
The room fell silent.
Three pairs of eyes stared at him.
“Wait.” His palms started to sweat, and he swallowed past his dry throat. “You can’t be serious.”
Mary finally cracked a smile. And it was in the face of his panic that she finally showed a sense of humor. “Well, actually…”
Triple fucking shit.
Chapter Eleven
Isabelle snapped her head up, her heart pounding so loudly in her ears she almost didn’t hear Mary’s reply. As soon as Gordon had made the joke about them eloping, she’d gone into panic mode. It hadn’t even occurred to her that her team might be toying with that notion. Not at all.
But then Gordon had joked about it…
And she’d realized that’s exactly what they wanted him to do. Marry her, all because of a fun sex session in a car. It was insane. And so unfair to Gordon. They’d had a fling. A fun, harmless—mostly—couple of nights together.
He shouldn’t have to marry her because of them.
“No.” She stood up, fisting her hands at her hips. “This is ridiculous. He’s not going to marry me because you asked him to.”
Gordon rubbed his jaw.
“And upon that, you’re crazy for thinking I’d be willing to marry someone because we had sex. It’s…it’s…bonkers! We were just having fun. People do that.” She put her hands on her hips. “Everyone does it.”
Princesses don’t—she cut the rule off mid-sentence.
Enough about what she should and shouldn’t do.
She was done. D. O. N. E.
Mary pressed her lips together. “You’re a princess. You have a name, and an image, to uphold. What would the people say if they knew you were just ‘having fun?’”
“They’d say ‘good for her!’” she snapped. “God knows there are enough uptight royal snobs out there. It’s time the world had a change of pace.”
“Sit. Down,” her father said, his tone brokering no room for argument. “Now.”
