Page 49 of Rags to Royals

Cian's eyes lock on mine. “I get engaged.”

Both girls gasp.

“What?” Mariah asks. Her eyes bounce between Cian and me

Cian sets down his piece of pizza and dusts his hands together. “That's the deal. I’m here because I’m supposed to get married in a couple of months. But I had to see your mom first. If we spend eighteen days together and end up being just friends, I go back to Cara and marry the woman my grandfather has picked.”

Greta's eyes are enormous. “But what happens after eighteen days if you really like each other? What if youdon’tget over Scarlett?”

The corner of Cian’s mouth curls up. He’s looking at me again. “Then I thinkScarlettshould marry me.”

The next gasp is even bigger and more dramatic than the first. I’m hoping they don’t have food in their mouths or they might choke to death.

I look at him with wide eyes, but he’s already grimacing. “Should I have not said that in front of your daughter? You all kind of hang out as friends and for a second there I forgot…” He shrugs. “And it’s what’s on my mind.”

“Marrying Scarlettis on your mind?” Greta asks.

He gives me a look that’salmostbut not quite apologetic. “Yeah,” he admits.

I almost laugh. What am I supposed to do with him?

I look at Mariah, who is grinning like Cian just told her she can have four puppies, two ponies, and a new car for Christmas. “We talk about everything around here,” I tell him. “Probably more than we should sometimes.” I roll my eyes. “Like Ioftenthink about how my fifteen-year-old daughter and her best friend should probablynotknow about my weekend tryst with the undercover prince in New Orleans.” I give the girls a pointed look.

They both just giggle.

“Yeah, she would have told me that you proposed anyway,” Mariah tells Cian.

“He didn’tpropose,” I say quickly.

“Ican,” he says. “If you’d like me to. There’d be abigring.” He gives Mariah a wink. “And a crown.”

I shoot him a look that I know he knows meansknock it off. He just grins.

Then he says to Mariah. “I just told your mom the situation with my grandfather and everything.”

“That you need to get married. And that you really likeher?” Mariah clarifies.

He nods. “Yeah.”

Oh my God. Does he know what ‘knock it off’ means? I look at Henry. He just shakes his head. Which clearly means ‘no, he doesn’t’. Henry is a bit of a mind-reader, I think.

But I truly don’t think that Cian O’Grady very often has thoughts, feelings, plans, or intentions that he isn’t comfortable sharing out loud with whoever is around. Sure, he's used to keeping his true identity a secret, but his heart is on his sleeve. If I’d realized that in New Orleans, I would have also understood that I was being romanced by a real prince with real money and power way back then. Because it's becoming clear he didn’t lie to me about a thing. That ‘oh I intend to be your prince charming in every way and come to your rescue however you need me’ wasthe full truth. Just like the ‘I know it’s crazy but I’m falling in love with you, Scarlett,’ was how he truly believed he felt.

Those memories are doing me no favors. Especially when I’m able to conjure the exact timbre of his voice when he said it, and how his hands felt on my skin when he said it, and how good it freakingfeltwhen he said it.

“Don’t get all worked up,” I tell Mariah and Greta. “Eighteen days is more than enough for Cian to realize that I am not princess material.”

“But,Mom,” Mariah says, leaning toward me. “You couldsodo that! I mean Abigail is the one that lives at the palace and has to do the official stuff.”

She glances at Cian and he nods. I sigh.

“You wouldn’t have to do that boring stuff or like wear dresses all the time or anything. But think of all the important people you’d meet!” Mariah gushes. “All the cool places you could go. And all the money you’d have! You could do so much charity work!” She leans further, her butt coming off her chair seat. “It would beso, so cool!Cian would be my stepdad!”

Greta is bouncing in her seat. “You would be aprincess!Oh my God! Princess Mariah! That soundsso great!”

I can’t even look at Cian. I give them both a frown. “Mariah, Greta, that’s enough. This shouldn’t be about Cian’s money and title or you being a princess.”

God, that is all so bizarre. What world am I in?

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