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Virgin Bride(171)

By:B. B. Hamel


“Bryce isn’t embarrassing anything,” he said.

“Well, she did slap you,” Lucy answered.

He laughed again, shaking his head. “We like a little fire in Starkland,” he said. “Don’t worry. The media ate it up.”

“Yes, they did,” Lucy grumbled.

“Bryce has been nothing but a model example of a great American girl,” Trip said. “The ministers are all very impressed.”

“Really?” Dad asked.

“Absolutely. She gave me some good advice when the attempt first happened, actually. She’s invaluable.”

“Stop,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m just a drag on your time.”

“Not at all,” he said seriously. “I’ve very much enjoyed spending my time with you.”

“Well,” Dad said, clearing his throat, “I’m glad Bryce is behaving herself.”

“Not exactly,” Trip said, grinning. “She’s trying to, though.”

“Okay, stop talking like I’m not here.”

Trip and Dad both laughed, and I shook my head, annoyed. It was like they already had some secret bond between them, dedicated to embarrassing me. That was going to have to stop, and very, very soon.

Lucy held up her glass. “May I propose a toast?”

“If you want,” Trip said. I grinned at him.

“To Starkland and to our amazing host and king, Christophe Werner von Brunhild the Third. May you live long and, uh . . . prosper.”

I snorted a laugh, and Trip grinned hugely at her.

“That was nice,” he said. “Here, here.”

“Prost,” Dad said, and we drank.

As we began to eat again, I felt the tide in the conversation shift away from embarrassing me and more toward things Trip and my father had in common. They had both hunted as younger men and they both like fishing from time to me. Lucy, for her part, managed not to say anything else so completely awkward and embarrassing.

About halfway through the meal, though, Al came into the room and whispered into Trip’s ear. I saw him stiffen and frown, and then he nodded to Al. He turned back toward the table.

“Well, I’m sorry to be so rude, but duty calls me,” he said. “I must bid you all good night.”

“Thank you so much again, Your Highness,” Lucy said.

Dad spoke up quickly before she had a chance to go on. “Yes, thanks, Trip. We appreciate it. This place is gorgeous.”

“Make yourselves at home. A servant will be by after the meal to show you to your room.” He stood up. “Good night.”

“Bye, Trip,” I said.

He gave me a quick grin and then disappeared.

As soon as he was gone, Lucy turned to me. “I think he liked me,” she said.

I smiled and nodded. “He sure does, Lucy.”

“Oh, I wonder what the ladies back home will think when I tell them all about this.”

I could only picture how that story would go.

We went back to eating and talking like a normal family again. I was so incredibly glad to have my father and Lucy with me. They made this surreal and crazy experience seem real.

And most importantly, Dad seemed to get along with Trip. The conversation hadn’t been forced or awkward. They had real things in common, although they came from such different backgrounds.

I didn’t know why that mattered. It wasn’t like I wanted to be with Trip seriously. I mean, I couldn’t even do that if I wanted to.

We finished the meal, and I couldn’t help but daydream about Trip, his mouth against mine, that gorgeous forest surrounding us. I wished I could see him again, but I knew he had some important work to do.

Once we were done, servants came and took Dad and Lucy up to their room. I said goodbye and headed up to my own room myself.

When I got inside, I noticed a small card set out in the middle of the bed. I walked over, tore it open, and pulled out a piece of paper.

“Bryce, your family is lovely. Glad they’re here. I can’t stop thinking about that kiss, and about that night. Trip.”

I bit my lip and shook my head, unable to stop smiling.

What the hell was happening to me? There was a feeling deep inside me that was struggling to get out. I’d felt it in the forest, too, when Trip had talked about his childhood.

I couldn’t name the feeling, but I wanted to, and soon.





24





Trip





General Hardcourt shook his head, looking dour as always. “I’m sorry, Your Highness. They escaped.”

“Fucking bastards,” I grumbled.

It was nearly two in the morning, hours after the dinner with Bryce and her parents. There had been some vicious attacks in the south, and I’d ordered my men to move in and arrest the killers.