Page 143 of Reluctantly Rogue

“He does,” Torin says. “He’s also the one the staff comes to when the podcast and other media outlets ask the palace for statements and comments. He came to ask me what was going on.”

“What did you tell him?”

“That Christian invited Linnea to D.C.,” Torin says with a shrug. “And that she wanted to go.”

“Dammit Torin!” I snap.

“I was planting seeds for what Ithoughtour plan was,” he says. “I didn’t know what was going on with you two.”

Right. Of course. The fucking plan. One of several I haven’t been following.

I shove a hand through my hair. “What did your grandfather—or rather the palace—tell the podcast?”

“That Linnea and Christian had met before about mutually beneficial programs and that she was in D.C. following up.”

I sigh. I suppose that works.

“Believe me, he played it down.” Torin leans in. “Heobviously doesn’t want anyone speculating that Linnea and Christian are romantically involved.”

“Then why did your grandfather invite Christian to Cara?”

“He didn’t. I did,” Torin says. Then he shrugs. “Mostly to annoy the king. But judging by the fact that you all looked to be having a good time bowling and thatyouhadn’t told me anything aboutyourrelationship, I thought maybe you’d appreciate me inviting him here.”

I feel Linnea’s hand on my thigh and I look over at her. She gives me a smile. “This isn’t Torin’s fault.”

I take a breath. She’s right. He assumed everything was going according to plan. That I was doing my job. As always.

“I didn’t even realize there were social media posts,” she tells Torin.

“I take it you weren’t spending these last few days scrolling your feeds?” He gives us both a knowing look.

Linnea doesn’t even blush. “No. We gave the outside world very little thought, actually.” She squeezes my thigh. “But we realize that now we’re back to reality and we need to face the fact that things are a little complicated now.”

“They are,” Torin agrees.

I stroke my thumb up and down along Linnea’s neck. “This wasn’t my intention when I got on that plane,” I tell him. “I did fight it.” I look at Linnea. She gives me a smile that wraps around my heart. “I just couldn’t do it. Seeing her with other people was too much. The idea of not being there if she needed me, when she was upset or hurt or sick, was worse than anything that can come of us being together.” I take a breath. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes, Torin. I’m even willing to risk pissing Diarmuid off. Or…giving up our friendship as it stands. Though I certainly hope that doesn’t happen.”

After a moment, Torin nods. “I should have seen this coming.”

Linnea and I exchange another look.

“Really?” I ask him.

“Of course. You’re both fantastic. Given a few days alone together, of course you’d realize that.”

“Oh…well…I realized it long ago,” I say.

“Me too,” Linnea adds.

I love that now when I feel love and warmth for her fill me, I can act on it. At least in some situations. I grasp the leg of her chair and pull her close to me, the chair scraping across the stone floor. Then I cup the back of her neck again and kiss her temple.

I won’t be able to do that in every room, with every group of people. Not for a while anyway. But it’s a fucking relief to be able to do it now in front of Torin.

Torin studies each of us, one at a time. “I’m not surprised now that I see you together. You’ve always been easy around each other. Sharing looks, comfortable together. I know you stay up late talking when Linnea is here.”

“We’ve been resisting it for…”

“Months,” Linnea fills in.

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