Page 25 of Royal Charmer
I halt at an unexpected dead end in the palace, where I thought the stairs would be. Crap. I thought it was left, long hallway, right, right to the stairs. Where am I? They should have signs around here. Of course, now that I’m desperate to get to my laptop to write all this down, I can’t find a servant anywhere to help. I could dictate into my phone, but I know more will come out with my fingers on the keyboard if I can just get to my laptop and let it flow. I might even have the first chapter.
I pull out my phone and text Lucas.I’m lost and I need to get back to my room STAT.
A text pings back a moment later.Where are you?
I don’t know! If I knew, I wouldn’t be lost. I went left and then right, right.
I look around and text again.There’s a Viking warrior shield on the wall. I’m in a dead end. Still on the first floor.
Don’t move.
I pull out the notes app on my phone and type a couple of sentences as quickly as I can for chapter one.
“Found you!” Lucas calls. “You’re in the west wing, and you want to be in the east wing.”
“Okay, let’s go.”
He offers me his arm in a gallant gesture that momentarily stalls my brain. I stare at it, his gray shirt stretching across a nicely rounded bicep, close enough to touch. He wants me to touch. His aquamarine eyes meet mine—theyarestunning—a ghost of a smile crossing his lips. “You did want me to pull out all the princely stops, right? As your duke inspiration.” He’s playing the Regency fake-engagement game for me!
My lashes lower, warmth stealing through me. “Yes, thank you.” I place my hand on his forearm, instantly feeling his warmth through the soft fabric of his shirt as he leads us out of the dead end. My mouth goes dry, my mind absolute mush. I am living my story, and it’s surreal. It’s a game. Can’t forget that.
He walks with a confident, regal air, seeming even more princely fiancé. “My pleasure, Miss Segal.” Even his voice is drier and more proper, reminiscent of the duke in my mind.
“Thank you, Your Grace.” And then I’m so excited, I break character. “This has already gotten my brain cranking! I’ve got the beginning and middle.”Though I’m rapidly losing it, given your proximity, I add silently.
“That’s good news, Miss Segal.”
“Please call me Alice.”
“Only if you address me by my given name.”
“Yes, of course, Lucas,” I whisper and then get quiet. I’m extremely conscious of just how close he is, how warm his arm feels, how good he smells, like spice and soap. This is how the duke will smell in my story.
“So, Alice, how will it end?”
“Happily,” I say absently. “My stories always end happily.” But exactly how? I don’t know.
“I meant our engagement. Not the fictional one.”
“I don’t know. What do you think?”
“We found we weren’t compatible.”
“There needs to be a better reason than that.” I think on this. “I’d really prefer if it wasn’t another woman. My readers already know I called off my wedding because my fiancé cheated.”
His brows shoot up. “You told your readers?”
“I shared the wedding details for months on social media. It was romantic and on brand for me. I had to explain why it was called off.”
“Won’t it look bad that you’re engaged again so soon?”
“I’m not going to tell anyone. I told my readers I was taking a break from social media to heal. But you’re right, realistically, with you being who you are—Prince Lucas Rourke, world’s most eligible royal bachelor—eventually the news will get out, so we should know how the engagement ends to manage the message.”
He looks thoughtful. “Maybe you get a job offer overseas, and I don’t want to uproot since my place is here. That happened to me in real life before, just another example of how I’m rooted in Villroy.”
“That totally works, except I would switch it up, make it like adventure calls. A new business venture in America that’s quite lucrative. After the war of eighteen twelve in America, there was a huge push for American manufacturing and construction of a transportation system.”
“Ah, Miss Segal, it seems we’re back in Regency times.”
