Felix and the Prince (Forever Wilde 2)

I felt my face heat up.

“Well, yes. Of course I like him. What’s not to like? Look at him,” I babbled. “He’s beautiful. Plus, he’s smart and sweet and—”

As I spoke, Felix’s eyes widened comically until Hen laughed.

“I’m not sure he knew that, brother,” she teased. “Maybe you should tell him instead of me.”

Despite my burning face, I forced myself to meet Felix’s eyes. “I do. I like you,” I said stupidly before clearing my throat. “In case that was somehow unclear.”

“I like you too,” he whispered. “But…”

And there it was. But.

Of course there was a but. There could be nothing but a but.

But the press. But the fact that the king couldn’t be gay. But Felix lived in Texas and I lived in Monte Carlo. But we only just met. But… but…

“Yeah,” I murmured, running my hand through his hair before tucking his head back down on my shoulder. “But.”

Hen’s forehead creased in worry as she caught my eye over Felix’s head. She mouthed the word sorry, and I shook my head to dismiss her. It wasn’t her fault things were the way they were.

They just were.

Two hours later, the security team gave us the all clear and we were able to move up to the kitchen. It was still very early morning, but there was no way anyone was falling back to sleep so soon after the flurry of activity that had awoken us.

Mari and Bert had most likely been secured in a different antechamber and made their way to the kitchen shortly after we did.

“Merry Christmas, Lior!” Mari’s face was bright with holiday cheer, and I was happy to see the security protocol hadn’t diminished her good mood. “Henriette, dear, how did you sleep? Wait, where is young Felix?” She craned her neck to look around the large space.

“He’s changing his clothes in the other room,” I said. “He’ll be here shortly. And, ah, he knows about me now. Obviously.” I tilted my head toward the handful of uniformed guards helping themselves to the coffee machine.

Mari’s face fell. “Oh dear. Is he upset?”

Before I had a chance to answer, Felix wandered in and beat me to the punch.

“Yes,” he said with a wink toward me. “Upset he let me feel guilty about sneaking around the royal wing of the castle last night.”

I could tell despite his attempts to be congenial about everything, the news was bothering him.

Mari turned to me with a glare. “You didn’t.”

“Oh, come on. Isn’t it more fun to sneak around a place than to feel like you own the damned thing?” I was kidding, of course, just trying to make the conversation light to keep from ruining the morning. But I could see the moment the words sunk in with Felix.

“You own the damned thing,” he repeated faintly before glancing up at me. “You own Gadleigh Castle… This is—” He swallowed. “This is your house. One of them. One of your houses. A royal castle is… is one of your houses.”

I approached him slowly, the fear of scaring him off a very real thing tightening in my chest.

“Felix,” I began.

“No. Oh, no. It’s fine. I mean, yeah. It’s a little crazy, right?” His eyes were bright with burgeoning panic. “But it’s cool. Totally fine. No big deal.”

His breathing quickened and his eyes darted around the large kitchen space, landing on the royal guards, the giant medieval fireplace, and the rich tapestry hanging above with the Grimaldi coat of arms on it—a majestic lion surrounded by the royal crest.

“Oh god,” he croaked.

“Felix,” I repeated.

“I need to go back to my room,” he said before swallowing and turning to go. “I’m sorry.”

“Fuck,” Hen said quietly from behind me. “Don’t let him go, Lio. He’s freaking out again.”

But my feet were frozen in place. There wasn’t a damned thing I could say to halt his panic. And considering we weren’t really more than an extended, albeit fantastic, one-night stand to each other, I wasn’t sure it was my place to try and reassure him. What exactly did Hen expect me to say? That I was there for him? That I cared about him and didn’t want him upset?

Well, that last part was for damned sure true, so maybe it was worth trying to at least be there for him right now. Even if there was no such thing as long-term potential between us. I couldn’t bear to see him confused and hurting.

I moved quickly toward where he’d disappeared out the side door. Jon noticed and followed me as I bolted across the gravel pathways toward the carriage house.

Once I was inside, I slowed my pace on the stairs to his apartment, racking my brain to try and come up with something to say. I knocked softly on the door before trying the handle. It turned easily and allowed me to crack the door open.