She was refreshing.
“Are you him?” she asked without turning around. Her voice had a bored tone to it, as if she weren’t being held prisoner in a foreign country by a man she didn’t know—or didn’t know she knew. “Are you the prince who ordered me to be detained?”
He opened his mouth to answer her, but before he could…she turned around.
And he forgot what he was going to say, who he was, or even why he was here. The second she met his eyes, she froze, too, and she stumbled back, a hand pressed to her chest. “I… You…”
And then she fell silent.
After a few moments, he dug his fingers into his palms and forced a small smile. “Hello, Alicia. Long time, no see.”
She dropped her hand from her mouth, her fingers twitching. “Leo?”
He nodded once. “Yes.”
“But…” She took a step forward.
He waited for her to finish her sentence, but she didn’t.
She closed the distance between them, each step she took making his heart beat faster than before. By the time she reached him, it was a miracle it hadn’t given out on him completely.
Slowly, she reached out and touched his cheek, her lips parted in surprise. “Is it really you?”
“Yes.” He curled and uncurled his fingers, then brushed her hair off her face, unable to resist feeling her skin against his again. She flinched. “It’s really me, my lady.”
“You look good,” she said, her voice lost in wonder. “Really good.”
Heat slammed through him. “So do you. You’re even more beautiful than I imagined you would grow up to be.”
“But you’re—” Stepping back, she slammed her hands against his chest angrily. And then she did it again. “You asshole.”
He caught her wrists in his hands, clenching his jaw. “I know this is an unbearable situ—”
“God, I can’t believe this.” She jerked free and stumbled back, her eyes narrowed on him. “Why are you in this castle? Did you see me on the news?”
He lifted a brow, not understanding why she’d ask him that question. He wore the royal crest on his chest, and clearly he belonged here. It was then that he realized she still didn’t know who he was. But if she didn’t know that he was responsible for detaining her, then why was she so damn angry with him?
Could she still be that angry he hadn’t written her?
Because she hadn’t exactly written him, either.
He didn’t know why he never picked up a pen, or sent an email, or why he’d waited so long to write her back then. It was almost as though if he did, then what they shared would be over. As if writing would make it less real. Didn’t make sense, but he’d been young. He’d also been afraid that she might find someone else, and that probably would have broken him. And by the time he realized he was an idiot, it was too late. It seemed silly to write to her, and after all, she hadn’t sent him letters. Years passed. Life happened. He’d missed his opportunity with her…
But then, she came back into his life.
And suddenly, the opportunity wasn’t missed anymore.
“Yes,” he said drily, hesitantly. At some point, he’d have to tell her who he was. Obviously. But not right now.
“Oh, thank God.” She rested a hand on his chest, right where she’d hit him moments before, only now she was all sweet eyes and soft lips. “Can you get me out of here? Your crazy prince has abducted me for no reason.”
He flexed his jaw. “Crazy?”
“Well, yeah, why else would he hold me captive?” She shook him a little bit. “I’ve never even met the guy.”
“Well, actually—”
“You’ve got to get me out of here.” She gripped his shirt and fisted it with both hands, her voice soft and desperate. “Please.”