I was thunderstruck.
At fifteen, I would have blurted anything to clear my name.
But instead, Evan had done the mature thing. He’d waited for events to turn, sure that Charlie’s mental illness would reveal itself soon enough.
And the alpha had been right.
Confident.
Sure and strong.
I turned wide brown eyes to my lover, filled with turbulent emotion. Because for the first time, I felt I could accurately call Mr. Lincoln my lover. Not someone I had sex with, letting him rule my body. Not someone that I physically craved, helpless at those clever hands.
But someone who was worthy of loving.
Worthy of my adoration.
My praise.
Everything my heart had to give.
And the rest of the meal passed in a blur. I tried to pay attention, saying yes and no when expected, smiling sunnily with my legs demurely crossed. But there was a change in the air. Because seeing Evan in this setting shed a whole new light on the situation. I thought that observing the prince in his castle would turn me off. I thought that meeting the King and Queen would make my heart ice over, underlining the chasm between us.
But I was wrong.
Seeing the alpha here, in his natural setting, made my head spin. My heart turn. My breath go fast.
Because he’s perfect.
Kind.
Charming.
A man with a heart, who cares about others.
So what do I do now?
I can feel myself falling, spinning, tumbling into the vortex. My soul leaning towards his, like a flower turning towards the sun.
But this can’t be happening.
He can’t be my Prince Charming, not for real.
Because there are no Cinderella stories in real life. In the real world, women have jobs, 9 to 5’s where they come home exhausted to two kids and a dirty house. And everything in my background pointed to that.
A job.
My dreams to be a vet.
A humble life with a blue collar man, scrimping and saving with squalling babies clinging to my breast.
Not this.
Not an elegant dinner in a castle with rich people.
Gourmet food, prepared by a chef called Cook, waited on by a butler called Butler.
These were dreams, nothing more.
But what do I do? The worst has already happened. Because I’m falling for my prince … and there’s no going back.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Evan
I sighed with satisfaction and sat back in the limo as it zoomed toward Maggie’s place. Today had been a good day.
Damn if the dinner with my parents didn’t go off better than I ever hoped.
Maggie was absolutely perfect. She charmed my parents so well, they didn’t even know what hit them. Of course, Evelyn loved Maggie from the get go, my mom’s pretty easy to get along with. But even Henry was eating out of Maggie’s hand by the end of the night, nodding with approval.
I’d be Lincoln Conglomerate’s CEO in no time.
It had been so easy.
Why didn’t I think of this years ago?
But the answer was obvious. It was because she was the right girl. With the right female on your arm, everything rolls along smooth. Hurdles that appeared to be major obstacles fall by the wayside, no longer enormous mountains to scale.
Maggie’s perfect for my parents.
Hell, the girl’s perfect for me.
And Henry agreed. After drinks and dessert, my dad pulled me aside with a serious look.
“She’s not your usual type,” he harrumphed, a shot of whiskey in one hand. Seriously, Dad needed to lay off. I could see burst capillaries on his nose, and his face was florid and sweaty like an old man suffering withdrawal.
But I nodded agreeably.
“Yeah, Maggie’s different. She doesn’t want to be an actress or model. She’s into animals,” I said smoothly.
Henry harrumphed again, belly shaking.
“The girl have a degree?” he asked.
“Working on it,” I replied. “Maggie’s in school for her AA. She’ll get her BA later, and then apply to a vet program. She wants to work with rescue animals and nurse them back to health.”
And that got Henry’s admiration. Because none of us have an advanced degree, so Maggie’s desire to go beyond a BA impressed him.
“Hold on tight to this one,” he grunted, taking another sip. “She’s one in a million.”
I shot him a cool look.
“I intend to,” was my reply.
And Evelyn had her thoughts as well. While Maggie was chatting amiably with my dad, my mom pulled me aside.
“Why haven’t you gotten her a ring?” she whispered, eyes aghast. “What girl doesn’t deserve an engagement ring?”
Yeah, it was a little weird that Maggie’s finger was bare. So I nodded.
“Just haven’t gotten to it,” was my smooth reply. “I’m taking her shopping tomorrow, she wanted to pick out her own design.”
“Well you should!” scolded Evelyn, her own ten carat rock glittering under the lights. “It’s shameful that your fiancée doesn’t have one yet! Is that how I raised you?” my mom huffed. “Is that how you treat your women?”
So it was final.
My girl was getting a diamond, and a real nice one too. My wallet was open, and no ring was too expensive, no diamond too big. I was taking her ring shopping and we were gonna make this legit.