I want a princess

not an English prince.” He rolled his eyes. “Obviously.” “Oh, right. I forgot we’re not the only ridiculous country in the world.” He arched a brow. “I take it you’re not a monarchist?” “Are you

“Magnus? Your name is Magnus?” For some reason, the idea that she’d been calling him the wrong name all this time bothered her more than the fact that he was, a

confirmation. The huge man nodded. “So where’s Helgmøre? Will those pictures show up in the British press? Because—“ Ruben held up a hand. “You don’t need to worry about the pictures.” “I don’t? Why not?” He and Hans shared a look. “They’ve been dealt with.” Cherry frowned. “Jesus Christ, what did you do?!” “Nothing! Nothing bad.” Then he appeared to reevaluate that sentence. “Well, actually…” She didn’t like the sound of that. Or the way he was looking at her, with wary concern, as if she was a dangerous animal that could turn on h

ther heavy. “Cherry.” She moved on to an ornamental bulldog her dad had given her as a kind of weird flat-warming gift. It had a decent weight to it. Hefty, but light enough for her to throw it with some force. Now to choose the first victim. “Cherry.” She looked up, the bulldog in one hand. “What?” Ruben looked at the ornament warily. “Could you put that down?” “Why?” “Please?” She watched his jaw clench. And said, “No.” “Fine,” he si

er. But Ruben didn’t seem to comprehend the danger. He crossed his arms and stared her down and said, “I did it to protect you. Okay? You don’t know how—“ His voice broke off, and for a minute he looked almost… lost. So lost that she forgot, in that very minute, to be furious. When he spoke again, his voice was stiff and formal. “No, you’re right. I—I have put you in an untenable position, without your knowledge or consent, and for that I apologise.” “Oh,” she said sweetly. “You apologise. Well that’s just grand. Can you also guarant

t five, GMT. Lunch for her sister. Their parents, as usual, were worrying overnothing. Imagine how they’d worry if they found out about tonight. Cherry: Don’t worry, I’ll be there Having committed to their virtual Netflix date, she left the chat and pulled up Maggie’s name. Cherry: Problem She bit her lip, then continued. Cherry: Secret Magz: Shit, you never pull secret. Finally done something wrong? Cherry: Shut up. Not exactly Magz: So spill With a sigh, Cherry typed out an abbreviated version of the afternoon’s events. She didn’t mention Ruben’s fiancée comment. Maggie’s outrage would be a fearsome and tiring thing. One minute passed. Then another. And then the phone rang. “Oh my God. A prince?” “You shouldn’t be calling. It’s too expensive.” “Relax. It’s an internet call and I’m on wifi.” Cherry could almost hear her little sister’s eye roll, and it set her teeth on edge. She loved Maggie—but sometimes she envied her sister’s ability to ‘relax’. It was hard to chill out with financial ruin breathing down your neck. But then, Maggie wouldn’t know anything about that. No-one wanted her to. “Yes, he’s a prince,” Cherry sighed, pushing her envy away. “And knowing my luck, there’ll be pictures of us splashed across the papers tomorrow morning.” “Hardly,” Maggie snorted. “I’ve never heard of him, so I doubt anyone else has. It’s not like he’s a prince prince. You knowpeople only care about Brits.” Cherry had had the same thought herself, but hearing it from Maggie’s lips steadied her rock

ye, Cherry Pie.” “Goodbye, Magnolia.” She h