Prince of my Panties (Royal Package 2)

A tree can fall at any time, smashing carefully laid plans to pieces. None of us knows how long we have left, and whether I beat this curse or not, I want Jeffrey to know that he is loved.

By me. For now and always.

The light shining in his eyes as I pull away is all the confirmation I need that I made the right call. “I love you, too. And I’ll see you soon.” He squeezes my hand, and then he’s gone, running across the grass to our campsite and the shadow of the Jaguar.

I jog in the other direction, following the ranger to the SUV and climbing into the back as she says, “Thank you so much. You’re doing a wonderful thing.” The man in the driver’s seat murmurs his agreement as he backs up and heads for the park exit.

As he drives, the woman turns in her seat and meets my gaze in the light from the dashboard. “I met this man and his wife when they checked in a few days ago. They seemed like such sweet people, and they have a new baby.” She sighs, pressing a hand to her heart. “I can’t stand to think about it. He has to be okay. That baby has to know her father.”

A new baby. A sweet couple.

I suppose there’s still a chance the man I’m rushing to help save is a stranger, but I know better. The marrow of my bones hums with the feeling that the future is a boulder rolling downhill.

Or I’m the boulder, and there’s no escape from gravity.

Yes, I’m the boulder.

When I follow the ranger into the two-story clinic in the small town of Devi, the staff rush through the necessary paperwork and hustle me to an exam room.

Seconds later, a nurse in faded blue scrubs hurries in, tripping over her tennis shoes as she sees my face. “Oh my God. You’re one of them, one of the—”

“I am. And I’m ready to donate.” I hold out my arm.

“Are you sure you meet the criteria?” The nurse frowns. “They told you about the weight requirement, right? You have to weigh at least—”

“Take my blood. Now,” I say, bouldering over her.

“But, I—”

“Now.” I narrow my eyes on hers, daring her to make me get out of this chair and fetch another nurse to get the job done. “A man is dying, and I’m his only chance. No other donor is going to get here in time.”

The nurse’s expression wavers, but after only a beat, she gives in, setting her metal tray of supplies on the table beside me. “Okay, but if you feel faint, let me know right away.”

“I’ll be fine.”

I am not fine.

I hate blood. Always have, always will.

The second the needle goes in and the red stuff starts to rush out—I have good veins, apparently—the room begins to spin.

I quickly look away from my arm.

That helps a little, but I’m still too hot, too cold, hot and cold at the same time, my skin breaking out in a light sweat up and down my spine. Less than a minute in, I realize I’m probably going to pass out, but I also know I have to hold on long enough to turn the tide for this man.

For Rafe.

I know it’s him. Rafe, my childhood friend, my first love, that dear soul who will always live in my heart no matter how many years have passed or how much he hates me. I will always care for him and wish him the best. I would never have known what to do with all the things I feel for Jeffrey if I hadn’t practiced loving with Rafe.

He taught me so much, gave me so much.

And now I’m going to give him this. I refuse to lose consciousness until at least one of those bags is full.

I ball my free hand into a fist and curl my tongue behind my teeth, pressing it into the roof of my mouth as the room tilts back and forth, the horizon line no longer a dependable thing.

“You’re doing great,” the nurse murmurs.

I see her tap the bag of blood in my peripheral vision, and the tilting of the world becomes a spin. My lips go numb and my stomach pitches, but right when I’m positive I’m going to toss my dinner, pass out, or both, I hear Jeffrey in the lobby, and the fist tightening around my ribs loosens.

“I’m looking for my girlfriend. She was rushed here to donate blood.”

Aw, his girlfriend. That’s me!

I take a deeper breath, and the tingling in my lips fades enough for me to call out, “I’m in here!”

Someone outside warns, “You can’t go back there, sir,” but Jeffrey’s footsteps are already thudding down the hall. A moment later, he appears in the doorway, his features tightening with concern as he studies my face.