Page 18 of The Harvest Homecoming

“Nope. Mitch and I wanted to surprise everyone.”

“Well, it worked. You look amazing. Where is Mitch? Did you bring Gilda? I spoke to you not three days ago, and you said nothing about coming over.” I draped an arm around my brother to tug him inside, but he balked.

“That’s because it was a surprise. Mitch and Gilda are with Mama and Papa. The poor girl might never break free from our mother. She’s already planning a spa day and a shopping trip, and we’ve not even unpacked.” Anders gave me a brotherly tap on the arm. “Why don’t you two get cleaned up? We’ll meet you for breakfast. Rani, good to see you again.”

“You too, Sir. I mean, My Grace. Sorry, Anders.”

“See you soon,” I said, smiling like a loon as my brother trotted off to rescue Mitch and Gilda from Mama. Spinning from the door after nudging it closed, I saw Rani sitting on the edge of the bed, his face in his hands, his shoulders bowed. “Hey, sweet, you okay?”

“I cannot believe he saw me like this. In his brother’s bed. What an awful impression that must have made.” He spoke into his palms. I padded over to sit beside him. My arm slid around his shoulders so that I could gently tug him to my side. He came, but it was begrudgingly.

“First of all, he knows that we’re dating. The whole world kind of knows it, or if they’ve missed the subtle clues, they’ll sure as hell know when I follow you to the UK and start kissing on you in front of Kensington Palace.”

His head came up, dark eyes round as hubcaps, shame still tinting his cheeks. Utterly adorable.

“Hold on a moment. When was all of this decided?” He turned to face me, his leg crooked up sideways on the bed. My arm fell to my side. My cold side.

“Well, it’s not actually a firm decision, but it is up for serious contemplation,” I replied as I fell back onto the bed, my hand snagging his shoulder to tumble him down atop me. He could have put up a fight, but instead, he slung a leg over me, grabbed my wrists, and pinned me to the bed. My cock was quite delighted. “I’m certainly not going to stay in Oslo while you’re banging around London with all those hot men in Trilby’s and fashionable umbrellas.”

“What century do you think London is in right now? No one wears a Trilby to work.” His gaze was intense.

“But they do carry umbrellas. And spats. They wear spats.”

“You’re a complete arse. Let’s just leave this part of what you said behind and focus on you moving to the UK.” His eyes narrowed. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I adore you and want to spend the rest of my days at your side,” I earnestly replied, rising up just enough to place my lips to his. He drew back after a second to stare right into the core of my existence. “Are you mad? You’re mad. Wait, I know why. I dreamed a dream and didn’t discuss the dream with you, thereby making the dream a solo dream and not a couple dream.”

“I’m not mad. I’m confused by that reply slightly, but not mad, just…” He lowered himself to brush his lips over mine. “You wishing to move to London to be closer to me is hard to grasp. I’m just…you’ve shown me so much openness and love. You’ve gently proved yourself to be trying hard to become a new man. I do love you, Harold. Deeply. I never stopped. Even when I should have, I couldn’t let go. Flipping that unrequited love to hate was easy. Hate is simple, instinctive, but love takes courage, conscious effort, and vulnerability.”

“I was scared to be vulnerable too, Rani. Terrified, to be honest. Being the palace wild child was much easier; it kept my heart safe.”

“Same. But now you’re gifting it to me on a platter.”

“With some fava beans,” I whispered and got an affectionate eye roll. “I’ll always requite you, sweet.”

“I see that. Slowly, I am seeing that.” He kissed me hard, possessively, and with such enthusiasm that we found ourselves having a glorious shag—as my sister-in-law would call it—that left us winded, giddy, and fashionably late for breakfast.

***

“I wish you would change your mind,” I wheedled as I dressed for the family birthday dinner at home. The festival had been a rousing success. We’d all worked overtime on it, and our participation was much appreciated by the people of our little island nation. We’d left them to it, preferring to watch the fireworks that would pop off in an hour from the balcony outside the throne room. Our exhausted security details much appreciated it. Houghton was overdue for a vacation after this past month of being on call every day for sometimes fourteen hours.

“I’m not going to barge in on the family dinner. I’m a member of the staff,” Rani replied while tying my tie into a precise Windsor knot. “I rather miss this aspect of being in Anders’ employ.”

“You miss dressing princes?”

“Mm, yes. I prefer undressing them but dressing them is nice.” He peeked up through thick black lashes and snickered softly at my scowl. “I never undressed your brother. Well, other than that one time he got horrendously drunk at a party. But that night all I did was remove his shoes and tuck him into his bed.”

“Hmmm.” I snuck a kiss. “I suppose I should thank you for taking care of our littlest prince.”

“Yes. You should. Just like I plan to take care of you.” He patted my chest softly. Someone rapping on the door pulled me from admiring the way his nose sat on his face. “Enter,” he called out, stepping back a space for decorum’s sake. Frode stuck his head in. Rani gave him a quick, short bow. “Your Highness, Prince Harold will be ready momentarily.”

Frode strode into the room looking handsome in a dark gray suit with a soft pink tie. “No rush. Karina and the nanny are struggling to get the boys into their suits. Why father insists on ties and suits for the men and dresses for the women for a family birthday meal is beyond me. Do you care if I wear a suit to your birthday dinner?”

“I don’t care if you wear a grass skirt with a coconut bra to my birthday dinner,” I replied honestly. “You know Papa.”

“That I do.” Frode sighed, giving Rani a once-over. “You’ll need to dress as well, Rani.”

“Oh no, Your Highness, I’m not attending.”