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48 HOURS AGO…
Chapter1
Jonah
* * *
I’ve been having sex dreams about my best friend’s fiancée.
Very fucking dirty sex dreams.
I’m extremely displeased by this.
But no amount of reminding myself she’s taken, can never be mine, is completely off-limits seems to help.
And it’s all I can think about as said best friend swings and jabs at me.
We’re just going through the motions. I make Torin do this periodically to try to keep him on his toes when it comes to self-defense. He’d much rather run and hike, and head to his ranch and ride his damned horses. But I insist that he at least pretend to know how to throw a punch.
Not that hereallyneeds it. He’s now surrounded by security twenty-four-seven.
And he’s living on a remote island in the North Atlantic where everyone loves him.
No one here really wants to kill him. Or even hurt him.
Except maybe his grandfather, once in a while.
And me on the rare occasion I think about the fact that he is supposed to marry the only woman toevermake me think for even a moment of being disloyal to my position. Or, worse, my friend.
He swings and I sidestep.
I really should let him hit me. Maybe that would make me feel better about the things I’ve thought about doing to his future wife…
Torin lands a punch right to my jaw and my head snaps back.
Okay, that was an accident. But it hurt. And I deserved it.
I step back and shake my head. “Nice shot, Your Highness.”
He frowns, dropping his hands. “How the fuck did I do that?”
There’s only one way—I’m distracted. And feeling guilty. “My amazing training,” I tell him.
He scoffs. “You’ve been training me for eleven years. I don’t think that’s it.”
I lift a brow. I don’t think we should discount thatentirely. I’m very fucking good. But he’s scowling. He’s definitely not himself today either.
“What’s wrong with you?” I wipe my hand over my sweaty face.
“Nothing. Haven’t you heard? I’m a fucking prince. My life is full of rainbow-shitting unicorns.”
Okay, wow. He’s never been exactlyenthusiasticabout his role as Crown Prince of Cara. That’s no secret to me. But Torin is annoyingly optimistic the majority of the time because he’s convinced that things usually go his way, eventually. Because…things usually go his way, eventually.
I probably only need one guess as to why his mood is crap today. “What did your grandfather do or say?”
“Linnea and her family are coming for dinner tonight,” he says.
I suck in a quick breath, able to disguise it as exertional breathing. Fuck. This dinner-with-the-soon-to-be-fiancée-thing happens periodically, of course. But it never gets easier.