Page 6 of Breathtaking

After a few measured breaths and a little finger and toe wiggling to test out my limbs that are numb with shock, I’m pretty sure I’m okay. The car... not so much. And who knows—maybe I’m overreacting. Maybe this isn’t so bad... maybe it’s just a little fender bender that my overly dramatic brain is blowing way out of proportion.

Wouldn’t be the first time.

Doubt it will be the last.

Only one way to find out.

The snow gently falls around me as I step out into the freezing street and immediately regret the beautiful blue Louboutin’s that make my ass look incredible and my legs look longer than your average eleven-year-old’s. What can I say? I’m short and love heels. It’s not like I dressed for a snowstorm, a spooked Bambi, and an irresponsibly placed tree.

Fuck my life.

I wobble on the slippery asphalt as I slowly make my way to the front of the car, with absolutely no clue what I’m looking at but feeling like I should at least look—right? The giant tree-shaped dent and the actual tree still there confirms my fears. I’m screwed. “Bloody hell. I broke it.”

Can this night get worse?

I should know better than to ask. Headlights approach and slow as a sleek, black SUV drives by... because why wouldn’t they?

The first time I’ve slipped my security in years and I’m going to be murdered on the side of the road in Kroydon Hills, Pennsylvania, like the focus of some bad true-crime podcast.

I can see the headlines now—Her Royal Highness, Princess Lennon Allison Windsor Dead at Twenty-five. The Cause—Her Own Stupidity. My father will be so proud.

Backup lights flash in front of me, and I cringe.

Umm... the only thing worse than a car driving by me on a dark, snowy road in the dead of the night is one stopping and backing up because they think I look like easy prey.

Damn it.

I’m going to die.

I will never ditch Maria again if I survive this.

Never.

I take a hesitant step toward the driver’s side of the rental, hoping I can make it to my purse and my phone before this crazy person pulls out a gun.

How’s the crime rate in Kroydon Hills?

Big boots crunch in the snow, and I look over my shoulder to find a man in a dark coat and black boots having gotten out of the SUV.

This is not happening.

Time to move... I open the door.

“Lennon?” That voice... It stops me dead in my tracks.

Oh, you have got to be kidding me.

I might actually prefer a murderer to the man that voice belongs to. The one I would recognize from an ocean away. The same one I could go a lifetime without seeing again and it would still be too soon.

“Maddox?” I’m not sure why I bother asking when I know deep down in the depths of my soul, it’s him. He seared himself there years ago when he stole a little piece for himself. “What are you doing here?”

I turn back and slide on black ice... because everything about this night isn’t already humiliating enough. And of course, Maddox’s fast hands catch me before I’m ass first in the snow like a real-life prince charming.

Only this man is no prince.

More like a rake.

“Careful now,piccola principessa. Pretty sureIbelong here. You, however, last I heard, were in London. Or was it Elwyn?” His brilliant blue eyes harden, watching for a reaction.

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