“Things are . . . well, they’re . . .” How could I tell him? It wouldn’t be fair to either man.

He put both of his hands on my upper arms, in a very soothing and calming way. Too bad it didn’t make me feel soothed or calmed. “I’m here to talk, if you need it. I only charge three hundred dollars an hour.”

It was a sweet attempt at making me laugh, but it felt like my whole world was a gigantic mess and I didn’t know how to fix it.

“It’s probably not okay for me to talk with you about it,” I admitted.

He still looked so concerned. “I understand if that’s how you feel. But it doesn’t change anything for me. I’m here. Anytime and anything you need. Always.” He leaned forward to kiss me on my forehead. It was probably the same way he kissed his sisters, but I wasn’t feeling very sisterly toward him. I closed my eyes and realized how much I missed this. I was tempted to wrap my arms around his waist for a hug. I only just stopped myself.

I shouldn’t compare. I shouldn’t. But here was Dante, the center of a television show, so many jobs dependent on him, a member of a royal family with responsibilities that most people couldn’t even begin to imagine, and he had never made me feel like I was bothering him or like he didn’t have time for me.

Maybe I wasn’t being fair. But it wasn’t fair how Sterling had talked to me, either.

“Is that offer part of your knight-errant quests?” I asked as he pulled away from me. He stayed put for a moment, looking at me, and then he began walking up the stairs.

“A knight, Indiana Jones, whichever hero you need.”

I gasped. Now that, without a shadow of a doubt, had definitely been deliberate.

New Year’s Eve. Monterra. The royal family had a costume ball to celebrate. I had gone as Scarlett O’Hara, and Kat had been Elsa from Frozen, which had been Serafina’s idea. It had been our last night in their country, and we were scheduled to return to the United States the following morning.

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I had pretty successfully dodged Dante’s attempts to talk to me about what had happened in his room. I dragged Rafe along with us whenever we went somewhere and made sure that we were never alone. It all seemed particularly pointless to talk things out, considering that I’d never see him again.

Kat and I walked into the ballroom, and I saw Dante immediately. He had dressed up like Indiana Jones, including the scruff, and he was the hottest man I’d ever seen. I was so glad a fan was part of my costume, as I immediately tried to cool my flushed skin.

Rafe had dressed up as Dr. Who—the Eleventh Doctor, he made a point of telling me later that evening—and Nico had on a Mr. Darcy costume that made Kat more excited than I’d ever seen her.

“There’s Dante,” she pointed out, after Princess Caitlin, who was married to England’s crown prince, had joined us in her geisha costume. As if I didn’t know exactly where he was and exactly which girl he was flirting with at that very moment. “He looks great in his costume.”

“It’s all right, I guess.” I was striving for nonchalant.

Kat saw through it and said, “Please. Like you wouldn’t let him raid your lost ark.”

I wanted to protest, but we started talking about Nico instead. Then Nico came to claim Kat, swirling her onto the dance floor.

At some point in the evening everyone seemed to have disappeared. Leaving me by myself.

I couldn’t believe how sad I felt about going home. I had thought I would be fine, but I had come to care about the entire family, and I would miss them.

Much as I didn’t want to admit it, I would miss Dante the most.

I started searching through the dancing couples to see if I could figure out where everyone had gone. I didn’t see them.

At least the time spent in Monterra had been fruitful professionally. I had finished everything up, and there were no more meetings, nothing that I had to do. I just had to get on a plane back to Brighton University, where I would complete my very unique and sure-to-be-amazeballs thesis, and then graduate. No more distractions for me.

But I wished for those distractions when I accidentally found Salvatore. The noble Duca di Brista sat in a darkened corner with one girl in his lap, and another kissing him. Ugh. He was repulsive. I couldn’t believe I ever let him touch me.




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