Charmed By The Mountain Prince(34)

Carrying them inside, I unwrap the pieces and look at each item carefully. Fingering the soft silky fabric of the nightgowns and panties, all I can imagine is wearing them for Garrick.

My heart swells with emotion, realizing that if I could rewrite history, I’d never run out of the bar. I would stay, and explain that he was being a horse’s ass.

It’s then that I know, I’m not just falling for him.

I love him.

Because I know he said some shitty things at the bar, but I know without a doubt he’ll come to his senses and apologize. He offered me a compromise—and yes, I was looking for more, but this last twenty-four hours has been a shock to my system, and I know it must be equally shocking to his. We’re forging a life together, when we are both used to seeing things from only our own points of view.

And I know the way he looked into my eyes, the way he touched my skin and held me in his strong arms … I know he will come back here tonight.

I look at the suitcase next to my dresser, noting that I have no plans of packing it anytime soon—unless Garrick is taking me on a honeymoon.

With intent, I place my new lace bras and panties in the drawers in which they belong. Looking out the small window, I see that the sun has set. The day has disappeared before my eyes. I guess I was out shopping a lot longer than I thought.

Giving a blowjob longer than I thought.

Fighting more than I wanted.

I look at the wood stove. The fire is long gone, and I feel a chill spread over me.

I can’t even take a shower to warm up.

Soon enough, though, I’ll at least be able to plug in an electric blanket. Garrick said he would install a stove and electrical sockets.

Is that enough?

Garrick built this cabin with his hands. That’s sexy and strong, and not something I should have so easily dismissed.

Looking around the cabin, I know that this is my home.

I bite my lip, knowing that eventually Garrick will arrive. We’ll fight, surely—but afterward, we’ll make up.

My heart stirs. I want to offer my love to him, starting with my body.

I slip off my clothes, and look in the drawer for a white teddy, the sexiest one of the bunch. I pull it on, and the white lace pulls tight across my nipples, the plunging neckline leaves nothing to the imagination. The thong bottom exposes my ass, and the mesh back is cut out. I can already imagine his fingers stroking across my skin.

I grab a long white silk robe and tie it around my waist, covering the secret beneath. Just as I cinch the belt, the door to the cabin opens.

Suddenly, I’m nervous.

I want to see his eyes so I can better understand him

“Iris?” he calls out.

I step away from the dresser. “I’m here.”

Garrick’s back is to me as he shuts and locks the front door. His broad shoulders remind me he’s a strong, capable man … and I believe he’s capable of loving me.

I believe in him.

He turns to face me, his eyes stern. It surprises me to see him stepping inside from the cold, his face that of a man who lives his life in the mountains. He has a beanie over his hair, no princely crown to speak of. His coat collar is high on his chin and his breath is frosty.

“It’s fucking frigid in here,” he says, clasping his hands together.

“I know. I didn’t know how to start the fire.”

He waves a hand at my words. “It’s fine. I wouldn’t expect you to.”

Confusion envelops me.

He must see it, because he shakes his head, walking toward me. “Damn it, that came out wrong. I mean I should never have left you here alone when it’s so cold out. I should have been here to stoke a fire.”

“Where have you been?” I ask as he turns to the wood stove and opens the door to it, adding a few logs along with kindling and striking a match.

“I looked for you after you left the pub, but I didn’t know where you went.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” I press. “Where did you go, Garrick?”

He stands and walks back to me. This time his shoulders fall, his eyes are on me. I watch him swallow, inhale, then reach for my hands.

“I had to speak with my father.” His thumb rubs circles over the top of my skin. His touch is distracting.

I try to focus. “Why your father? You can’t stand him or the castle.”

“I had to make some plans.” He brushes off my question again.

I’m getting impatient. “What kind of plans?”

“Listen, I don’t want to fight with you. Not again.”

“I’m not starting a new fight, I swear,” I tell him. “We never even finished our last fight when I ran out of the pub.”

“Princess, fight or not, I have to tell you something.”