Page 2 of Reluctantly Rogue

On either Torin or me.

In fact, it’s getting more and more difficult.

But it’s better when I have some warning.

This will be the first ‘and her family’ dinner since my birthday a month ago. The night I stepped over the line and…well, fucked everything up completely.

She’s been to the palace twice since then. I saw her, of course, but I avoided being in any room alone with her as if death was waiting on the other side of the threshold.

Or worse—the only woman I’ve ever fallen in love with.

But having her family here makes it feel more like Torin’s in-laws are coming over and reminds everyone that King Diarmuid is getting impatient with Torin’s reluctance to make their engagement official.

“You shouldn't be surprised,” I tell him, to remind myself that I shouldn’t be either.

“I’m not surprised. Just fucking annoyed. I had to practicallypleadwith him to get him to attend the dinner with Dr. Hill and Senator Waite. They were here to discuss how Cara can help advance green energy initiatives around the world, for fuck’s sake, and he wasn’t interested. Buthedoesn’t care thatI’mnot interested in dinner with Linnea’s family.”

It wasn’t Torin’s pleading that had gotten the king to that dinner with Hill and Waite either. Linnea had talked him into it.

“Come on,” I say, beckoning to him. “I get a better workout with a punching bag.”

If Torin would take another decent swing, thenIcould take a decent swing.

And I’m not admitting it out loud to anyone, but I kind of want to hit my best friend right now.

“I’m not in the mood,” he tells me, wiping the back of his wrist across his forehead.

I roll my eyes. “Listen, Your Highness.” I know he hates when I call him that. “Even princes can get fat and slow.”

“Fine.” The future king squares up. We began circling each other, taking small, soft jabs.

He lands a hard jab to my shoulder, and he grins.

I don’t think he knows that talking about Linnea is a sure way to distract me, but he’ll figure it out soon enough if I don’t focus.

I swing toward his face, and he doesn't duck fast enough. I clock him on the cheek.

I am, of course, one of the very few people who can hit the Crown Prince of Cara.

I am theonlyperson who can hit him without being hit back by someone bigger and stronger. Because anyone else who hit him would be hitby me.

He frowns and rubs his cheek. “Hey.”

“You really think that if you're in a fight, they’re going to just let you bitch and moan about your personal problems?”

“Fuck off.Thought my personal problems were kind of in your wheelhouse.”

If only he knew just how in my wheelhousethisparticular problem of his is.

“We can talk after you land three punches.”

He will never land three punches on me, and we both know it.

“This istraining, not mortal combat.”

I roll my eyes that he even thinks this is close to any kind of combat.

“It’s even bettertrainingif you have consequences for fucking up.” I swing again, missing on purpose, but he definitely does not duck in time. “Torin, pay attention!”

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