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Of course, I have to tell him the truth. Probably should tell him the entire truth, about the fake engagement. All of it. After all, I owe Topher my father’s life. He risked his own reputation to prove my father innocent all those years ago. His own reputation and prospect as future king suffered as a result. So I owe him nothing but honesty in return.
And yet. Chloe’s asked me not to say anything. And for now, there’s not a reason Topher has to know the rest, other than the fact he might be upset if he finds out later and I wasn’t the one to tell him.
“I can explain, mate.” I lean forward in the seat, the phone still pressed to my ear. “When I arrived, there were no other hotel rooms available. There’s this festival in town, and well, I didn’t really have any other options.” A pause. “And of course, I’m sleeping on the floor between the bed and the door in the safest defensive position. Not that I expect any trouble while we’re here.” Tapping one foot against the wooden porch floor, I feel a pinch in my gut at the lie of omission. I should tell him about Stephanie. About Ricky.
But then, he might tell us to cancel the whole thing. To come back to Kentonia right away. That would crush Chloe. And it honestly is my professional opinion that those things were both flukes. We need to be careful, yes, and that will mean continuing our pretense, but I do believe Chloe can pull this off.
I don’t want her feet cut out from under her—the freedom she’s enjoying, however temporary, stolen from her—before she’s had a chance to prove it to herself.
I can practicallyhearTopher thinking from across the pond. The silence is louder than a herd of elephants in a stampede.
Finally, “If it was any other man sharing her room, I would be on the next flight over to make sure he never walked again. But it’s you, so I have no need to worry.” A pause. “Idon’thave any need to worry, right?”
“Of course not.” That he would even have to ask whether I would ever take advantage of the princess is almost insulting—especially given how well he knows me. And hopefully my tone of voice, which would likely be considered insubordinate except for the fact right now we’re talking as friends, demonstrates that to him.
“Good.”
There’s more he has to say. I can feel it.
I stand up and pace—both to get the blood pumping warmth through my veins and to give me something to do other than wait. “Well? Get on with it.”
“It’s just …” A grunt comes over the line. “When I told Lauren that I’d sent you along as Chloe’s bodyguard, she found it amusing.”
I freeze. “Amusing, how?”
“She has some ridiculous notion that you care for my sister.”
“Of course I do. You know that.”
“No, not as a brother would. Like a man would.”
I can’t tease out what he’s getting at—does hewantthat to be false? True? Would he care? Would he be hurt if I told him the truth after keeping it inside after all this time? But he’s the one who told me “off-limits” over a decade ago, so I assume he’s just feeling out the situation, analyzing every angle with that big brain of his, trying to compute what this could mean if I truly do care for the princess as a man and not a brother.
Also … how does Lauren know? I thought I’d been so careful to hide my true feelings. Perhaps I’ve been a fool, let my guard down somehow.
All I know is that confirming my feelings will do absolutely no good. Topher will likely pull me from duty, Chloe will no longer have a fake fiancé cover story, and Lauren and Topher won’t get a dream wedding that’s personalized to them and their tastes.
But still, I hate the idea of lying. So I go a different route. “You know me better than anyone, Toph. Doyouthink I have feelings likethatfor your sister?”
“At one time, I might have.” He’s careful, slow, with his words. “But no, I haven’t seen any evidence of that.” Then he breathes out an audible sigh.
Of relief, I presume.
My stomach flips over. Is he relieved because the idea of Chloe withmeis so terrible? Does he think so little of me as a man of honor? Or does it have to do more with my family’s reputation and how being with me would mar Chloe’s?
That’s what I suspect, given the fact that he trusted me enough to send me here, after all. As a bodyguard, at least, he thinks I’m good enough.
But as a potential husband for his sister? No. He likely thinks she’s destined for more than being dragged down by an association with a Shaw. Even though he himself helped clear my father of all wrongdoing, the prejudice against my family still exists in our country a decade later. Documentaries have been made. Conspiracy theorists have entire podcasts related to the attempted leaking of the king’s secrets to Russia and how they believe my father to be the ringleader. There have actually been signed petitions calling for me to be removed from my position in the palace because some assume I’m there to carry out the rest of my father’s dastardly plans.
Topher doesn’t care about any of that. He doesn’t care how that gossip might affect him. And thankfully, many years later, he’s managed to get the people on his side again. But his sister? He’d never want her reputation blighted by mine.
And neither do I.
“Glad we cleared that up,” I say, resuming my spot on the bench and leaning back, one arm lying casually across the back of the swing. “Now, tell me how things are going there. And don’t leave out a single sexy detail.”
He chuckles. “Nothing sexy here, I’m afraid. My day started with a meeting with Parliament—”
“Ooo, tell me more.”
