An American Cinderella

I kept my eyes shut. “Henry...”

“What happened, Aria? Why did you run?” The hurt in his voice killed me.

“Oh, Henry.” My shoulders slumped. “I can’t be with you. You’re a prince. I’m just an American girl. I’m not special.”

“You are.” He took a step forward. “You are so special.”

“I am only a liability to you,” I replied. I forced my voice to stay steady. “I’m not what you think I am?”

“You aren’t perfect? Beautiful? Thoughtful? Kind? Smart?” Henry shook his head. “No.”

“Henry, there are things about me, about my family that will end up hurting you.” Every cell in my body ached not to say this, but I knew it had to be done. “If you are seen with me, it will hurt you. I won’t do that to you.”

“Aria, I don’t care.” His blue eyes met mine. “I’d give up my whole kingdom to be with you. I want to be your Prince Charming.”

My walls keeping him out were crumbling.

“Please, I don’t want to hurt you...”

Henry’s hands were on my shoulders, strong and safe. He put one hand under my chin, tipping my face up to look at him. “The only way you can hurt me is to make me leave you.”

A tear rolled down my cheek and he brushed it away with his thumb. His touch broke down the last of my defenses.

“How are you so charming?” I asked him.

He smiled. “I’m a prince. It’s part of the job.”

I chuckled softly as he leaned forward and kissed me. His lips were sweet and gentle, the kiss more for waking a sleeping beauty than for passion, yet the heat still seared straight to my soul.

He tucked his hand into my hair and our foreheads pressed together. I could feel the tension fading from his shoulders and my heart didn’t hurt so much because he was near me. My hands tightened on the fabric of his shirt, afraid that he might disappear if I let him go.

“I have to tell you something,” I said softly. “It’s not a good thing. You might even hate me for it.”

“I could never hate you,” he whispered. “Never in a million years.”

I took a deep breath and looked up at him. “I need to tell you about my stepmother. I need to tell you that she wants me to steal secrets and that she will use me to get to you the moment she finds out about us. And, I need to tell you just how much she can destroy me, and thus you.”

“It sounds like a long story.” He smiled and touched my cheek. “Come and sit with me. We’ll sort this out.”

I took his hand and together we sat on my small couch. With a shaky voice, I began to tell him just what kind of a mess he had gotten into by falling in love with me.

Chapter 27

I confessed everything. I confessed to taking the picture, to not telling anyone just how much trouble I was in, and to what my stepmother was expecting of me. I told him all of it without keeping anything back.

And while it felt good to tell someone, I felt miserable at the same time. I was giving him this burden in addition to the ones he already carried. If he had fallen in love with just about anyone else, there would be no trouble.

Instead, he fell in love with a girl who was going to be convicted for selling secrets because her stepmother would stop at nothing to destroy her.

“So, that’s why I ran,” I concluded lamely. “I panicked when you told me who you were. I’m selling your country’s secrets and my stepmother will use you like she uses everyone. You’ll never be safe around me.”

I was sure he was going to hate me. I was sure that he was going to sigh, tell me that this was too much, and walk out the door.

Henry was silent. I could hear my neighbor’s TV on a commercial and somewhere outside a car alarm went off. I didn’t dare look at him. I just stared at my hands.

And then he reached for me, taking my hands in his. They were warm and strong as they wrapped around mine. There was gentleness and kindness in his touch. I looked over at him, unsure of what I would see in his face.

“It’s nothing we can’t face together,” Henry said with a soft smile. He looked confident and unfazed by my entire story.