Taunting Callum (Big Sky Royal 3)

“Did you just say snobbery?”

“They will talk about your late husband and the accident that killed both him and your daughter. They’ll talk about your childhood. They’ll infiltrate your life so completely, you’ll feel like a prisoner at times.”

“You’re really doing a great job of selling yourself here, Your Highness.”

His jaw tightens. “You think that your past, where you come from, would make me not want to associate with you. But what you need to think about is my past and where I come from. It isn’t always beautiful homes and fancy cars. It’s work. It’s media. And it isn’t private. Never that.

“So what you need to decide between now and tomorrow morning is…do you want to continue this with me? Your history doesn’t dissuade me in the least. But mine might discourage you, and I’d rather know that now than after I’ve finished falling in love with you.”

I bite my lip, soaking in every word he said. This isn’t to be taken lightly. This isn’t something to be viewed through the rose-colored glasses Gretchen wears.

Callum’s right, I need to think about this.

Because I’m falling in love with him, too, no matter how much I’ve tried to convince myself differently.

He leans in and presses his lips to my forehead.

“Thank you for dinner.”

“You don’t have to go.”

He sighs, then kisses me again.

“I do. But I hope I’ll see you at eight tomorrow. I’ll tell security to expect you.”

And with that, he turns and walks out of my house. I follow to watch through the window. David meets him at the car, and they drive away.

Was David standing out in the rain the entire time? Why didn’t I think to ask?

Because it’s not normal to have a bodyguard with you everywhere you go.

I keep myself busy with cleaning the kitchen. When that’s done, I decide to go ahead and paint that bathroom. No time like the present, right?* * *I didn’t sleep in.

In fact, I didn’t sleep much at all.

Because Callum was right. I had to do some serious thinking about what he said. I’ve seen the media coverage of the royal family. Last year, when Ellie married Liam, the press tore him to shreds because of his military past. They interviewed family that he hadn’t seen in years. All my life, the royals were front and center in the tabloids.

And now, because I met a prince absolutely by chance, I could be on the precipice of that same fate.

How in the hell did this even happen?

Oh, yeah, because I thought they might like some scones for breakfast.

I gather my handbag and sunglasses and check the time.

I have to pick Callum up in fifteen minutes.

And, yes, I’m still going.

At about four this morning, I’d almost talked myself out of it. I wanted to keep Greg and Emma’s memories safely tucked away, my past forgotten, and move on with my quiet, peaceful life in Montana.

But then I considered never speaking to or seeing Callum again, and the pit in my stomach was unbearable. No, I don’t look forward to my past being slung in my face, but I’m not ashamed of it either. I’ll stand right up to anyone who wants to say anything shitty about my husband and kid.

And my piece of shit mother wasn’t my fault.

I’m a good citizen, with a thriving business in a community I adore. If anyone wants to say anything bad about that, well, let them. I’ve never been one to give a rat’s ass what anyone thinks of me.

Cunningham Falls is quiet this morning, now that the tourists are all gone, and we’re back to being a sleepy little town. I roll past Drips, satisfied when I see a short line of regulars at the counter through the window.

When I reach the gate to Sebastian’s home, I’m immediately let in and shown where to park.

“His Highness would like for you to meet him at his quarters in the boathouse,” a security guard tells me. “I’ll be happy to escort you.”

“Thank you.”

I follow him down the path that leads past the main house, the former guest house that’s now the headquarters for security, to the boathouse, where I visited before when Ellie was staying here.

The security guard keys in a code to the door, opens it, and then nods for me to go in.

“Thanks again,” I say before climbing the steps to the apartment above. I knock on the door, and almost immediately, Callum opens it. “Good morning.”

“You came,” he says, his face full of surprise.

“You didn’t think I would.” It’s not a question.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t have blamed you if you hadn’t. Come in.”

He steps back, allowing me to walk into the apartment. I love this space with its open floorplan and expansive views of the lake.

“I almost didn’t come. For a couple of hours during the night, I thought of sending you a thanks, but no thanks text.”