Page 3 of Royal Games (The Royals of Monterra)

“One year?” I repeated the words back to him. He nodded. One whole year? Maybe they kept track of time differently in Monterra and it wouldn’t be as long as an actual year. Because there was no way I could do this for twelve months. And knowing him the way that I did, he really would stay the entire year. Rafe always kept his word.

Christmas was only a couple of weeks away. He would leave then, wouldn’t he? He had to go back to his family’s palace to celebrate with all of his brothers and sisters. Then I remembered that he’d mentioned something about his oldest brother getting married at Christmas. He would definitely have to go home then.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. I would just keep living my life, staying busy, and he could do whatever he planned to do and leave me alone. I would just have to call on my inner Spock and remain calm and logical. I’d make sure he kept his distance.

“I don’t know what you think you’re going to accomplish, but let me tell you now that staying here for an entire year is going to be a waste of your time. I can’t forgive what you did.” I turned to go.

“Genesis,per cortesia...” Italian. He had to slip into Italian. It always made my insides go all aflutter. He reached out to take hold of my arm, and my nerve endings exploded like a thousand glitter bombs where he touched me. I jerked away from him before I did something really idiotic. Like tell him all was forgiven and we should start discussing names for our kids.

“Don’t,” I warned him, my erratic heartbeat pounding wildly in my stomach. “Don’t touch me. Just leave me alone.”

In that moment I didn’t know if I was more upset with him or with myself.

I started back toward the house, but I saw my aunt in the kitchen window, watching us with a worried expression. I couldn’t deal with her questions or further matchmaking attempts. Forget the shower and the nap. I would go to work now. I could use the extra hours after missing the last few days.

Stomping through the snow-crusted side yard, I headed for my blue Ford farm truck. My purse was still inside the farmhouse, but my keys were in my pocket. It was an old habit of mine because I had a tube of pepper spray attached to the key ring and having it made me feel safer.

Hearing Rafe’s footsteps crunching the hardened snow behind me, I hurried my pace and reached the safety of my truck. I loved Old Bess, especially because she had been my mother’s truck, but she was a temperamental thing. I said a small prayer to the vehicular gods before I slid the keys into the ignition. “Please start. Please, please start.”

No such luck. Just a clicking noise. My heart thudded louder as Rafe came closer. “Come on girl, I promise to get you the premium stuff next time. You’ve got to get me out of here.”

He was nearly to the truck, and I tried one more time, turning the key as hard as I could. Still nothing. The engine refused to turn over.

“Really, universe? Is this how we’re going to play this?” I asked in frustration before laying my forehead against the steering wheel and taking deep breaths.

He tapped against my window. So much for my dramatic exit. “Can’t one thing in my life work the way it’s supposed to?” I muttered as I manually rolled the window down. I probably shouldn’t have been surprised. Everything else in my life was currently falling apart around me. Why not Old Bess too?

“It sounds like the battery is not working properly,” he said. “That happens a lot in Monterra. Starting an engine in cold weather puts strain on the battery. When is the last time you replaced it?”

How could he just stand there, all gorgeous and serene, like nothing had just happened between us? Like he hadn’t just shattered my entire reality?

“I don’t know.” I gripped the steering wheel tightly, staring straight ahead. Had he always smelled this good and I had just forgotten? Like summer, the ocean, soap, and sexy man all rolled into one.

“I’ll go get my car and give you a jump start.”

“No!” I yelped. I waited a beat, willing myself to calm down. “I don’t have time for that. I have to get to work, and then there’s a town meeting where I have to report on how the church bazaar planning is going, and help the kids with the talent show rehearsal, and then I have homework, and I need to do my dailies inWorld of Warcraftand ...”

He stood silent, and I glanced up at him. To my surprise, he was angry. “I thought you were going to start telling people no.”

I remembered that conversation very clearly. Months ago he’d told me I was doing too many things, and that was before I’d started deliberately trying to put myself in an early grave by being busy every minute of every day. He thought people in my town took advantage of my desire to help.

“I ... I can’t.”

“Why?” he demanded.

“I just can’t.” Partly because I had chosen this path to keep him off of my mind, but also because I honestly couldn’t explain why, when someone asked me for help, I never said no.

In fact, the only person I ever managed to say no to was Rafe. I was about to tell him as much, but I decided against provoking him when I saw that Aunt Sylvia had moved into the living room and was now watching us from the front window. We were like her own personal reality show. I let out another deep sigh. We needed his money. He had apparently charmed her into liking him and giving him a lease. I just had to wait him out. I could be polite and distant until he went away.

“I worry about you taking on too much,” he said in such a gentle way that my heart nearly broke all over again. He reached up to push an escaping tendril of hair away from my face. I felt the tips of his fingers burning up my skin and had to move my head away.

“You don’t get to worry about me anymore,” I said, my seconds-old resolve to stay nice forgotten.

He looked thoughtful. I glared at him while a smile played at the ends of his lips. “Let me drive you into town. I know where the diner is. What time will your shift be over? I can pick you up.”

Logically, I understood that he was being nice. That this was a courteous and chivalrous gesture, and that if any other person on the planet had made it, I would have accepted. But it was Rafe. The still tender and overly emotional part of me did not want to be trapped in a car alone with him.

“No, thank you. I’ll call Whitney for a ride.” It wouldn’t be the first time she’d had to pick me up on her way in, and given my truck’s desire to make my life as difficult as possible, most likely not the last time either. I scooted across the seat and let myself out on the passenger side to keep some distance between us. I headed back to the farmhouse.

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