“You assumed I’d accept your proposal.”
“I followed a hunch,” he said. “Just like your mom did when she came to see me. I had faith that what we had together was real enough for us to be together. For us to be happy. I believed in us.”
Her mouth tightened, but then quirked up in a smile. “I like that. You believed in us.”
“I did.” He cupped her cheek tenderly, memorizing the way she watched him. All wide eyes, soft smile, and happiness. This was what he’d wanted. To make her happy. “I do. I always will.”
She kissed him gently. “Me, too, Gordon. Me, too.”
Sighing, he cuddled her close as she rested her head on his chest. His heart swelled, and he closed his eyes. This was it. This is what he’d been looking for when he’d left the corps…love.
Even if he hadn’t known it at the time.
Epilogue
One Year Later
Isabelle sighed and checked the time. She’d been in this meeting with the Ambassador for over an hour now, and she was exhausted. All she wanted to do was go back to her room, find Gordon, and curl up beside him. He’d been her rock for the past year, always there for her when she needed him.
And, man, she needed him now.
Because she felt awful.
The ambassador leaned closer, pointing at a map that had been spread out in front of her. “After that, we’ll make a stop in Linnea, and then England.”
“Mmhm.”
She swallowed hard, nausea hitting her like a tsunami. She swirled her wedding band on her finger, a nervous habit she’d started lately. Princesses don’t fidget, her mother’s voice said in her head. The hell they don’t, Gordon’s voice argued.
She kept twisting the ring.
Her stomach rolled like a tidal wave, and she swallowed hard. This wasn’t going to end well. She knew it. The only question was: how long until she could no longer hold the impending explosion of the contents of her stomach back?
“And then after that, we’ll—” He froze, looking at her with a wrinkled brow. His gray hair stuck up like usual, and he’d smeared a bit of pen across his nose. “Are you all right, Princess? You look a little…green.”
“I’m not—” She swallowed down yet another rise of bile. She was obviously coming down with something. Princesses don’t vomit in public. For once, she agreed with her mother. “I need to go.
Now.”
“But—”
“If I don’t leave now, I’m going to throw up all over your maps.” She stood and rested her hands on the wood table. “And you. I need to go now.”
He nodded. “Quite right. Off you go, then. We’ll finish later.”
She walked serenely to the door…until her stomach roiled again.
Then she ran to her bedroom, not looking anyone in the eye, one hand pressed to her stomach and the other to her mouth. When she reached her bedroom, she threw the door open and bolted inside.
Gordon sat at the desk, a bunch of papers in front of him. His crisp white shirt was unbuttoned and rolled up to his elbows, and his suit jacket lay across the top of his desk chair. He’d been studying her country’s policy on immigration when she’d left.
Looked like he was still at it.
“Hey. You’re done early.” He glanced up, a big smile on his face. “Looks like it’s time—shit. What’s wrong?”
She didn’t answer. Just bolted for their private bathroom. As soon as she squatted in front of the toilet…well, it wasn’t pretty. At all. Her stomach rebelliously booted everything she’d eaten in the last five hours…and then some.
When it was over, she looked up.