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Isabelle whirled around, her eyes wide. “George? What are you doing here?”
“Seeing the opera, just like you.” He came inside their box, his blond hair immaculate. He wore an expensive, custom made suit, and he looked handsome. “I invited you, if you recall.”
She crossed her arms. “Who’d you bring with you? A princess who doesn’t horrify your sensibilities?”
“Mine?” He laughed. “I wasn’t the one who was horrified. It was everyone else. And I’m alone. I went to your room, but you weren’t there, so I came here, hoping you’d still come.”
“Why are you looking for me? You’re the one that called off the”—she finger quoted—“sure thing between us. And earlier today, when I came to see you, you refused to consider the possibility of us still working together for our countries.”
“No, I told you that we, as in me and my people, needed to think about it.” Sitting down beside her, he crossed an ankle over his knee. “I’ve thought about it.”
Her heart sped up. “And?”
“And I think with some damage control, we can still make it work.” He grinned, tapping his ankle with his left hand. “You’re not the only one who makes mistakes. I have things I’d rather not become public fodder… But I keep them private. I don’t dawdle with employees of the crown in public places like some other people I know.”
Her cheeks flushed. Princesses don’t open themselves up to criticism from their peers. But she had. Oh, she had. And she deserved every jibe he took.
“Your advisors would never let you marry me. I’m a scandalous name now. You can’t possibly want that for your country,” she argued.
“We could swear that you were with me at the time of the alleged photos. Say they were photoshopped. Faked for profit.” He gave her a knowing look, her brows drawn tight. “Even though we both know they’re not.”
“They’re not, and I don’t regret what I did with him.” She stared right back at him, refusing to flinch. “We weren’t engaged yet. We didn’t even know each other the first time it happened.”
Something twitched in his cheek. “It happened more than once?”
“Yes.” She gripped her dress. “It did.”
?
?How many—? Never mind. It doesn’t matter.” He waved a hand. “I can’t say I liked hearing about it, or that the news made me happy, but it’s not a deal breaker in my eyes. We can still make this work, as long as you refuse to see him again.”
She blinked. “B-But I’m here with him now.”
“Then leave with me. Walk out right now, and this can still happen.”
Hesitating, she glanced at the door. Gordon wasn’t there yet. She couldn’t walk out on him like this. Couldn’t leave him without an explanation.
“My people want me to marry him. Pretend we fell in love over here in America and spontaneously got eloped. Make it romantic, so the people will swoon,” she said.
“What will that gain your country, besides a pauper king?” He shook his head. “Together, our countries will be formidable. Together, we could have a unified front. One that the whole world—even the great mighty America—will respect. Would you give all that up for a rough American security guard?”
Her heart twisted. He didn’t have a right to talk down on Gordon, as if he didn’t mean anything at all. As if he was dispensable. “He’s not—”
“Just marry me, Princess Isabelle.” George pulled a ring out of his coat pocket, and she choked on a laugh. She’d been so sure Gordon was going to propose to her tonight… And now George was doing it. “Will you marry me, and unite our people for the greater good?”
Oh holy mother of all things royal. This was happening.
What should she say? Her brain told her to take him up on the offer and do right by her people. But her heart wouldn’t stop thinking about a certain brown-haired, brown-eyed man who made her smile, and run in the rain. Who made her happy.
Princesses always do what’s best for their people…not themselves.
“I—I don’t know.”
He leaned in and kissed her, his warm mouth fitting over hers. She started to lurch back, but he cupped the back of her head tenderly with one hand, his touch soft. With his other hand, he held hers lightly. She froze. The kiss was pleasant and sweet, but he wasn’t Gordon. It didn’t feel right. How was she supposed to marry another man when it felt so…so…wrong?
She broke off the kiss.
It might be a mistake, but she needed to turn him down. If Gordon was going to propose to her, then she couldn’t accept this man. It wouldn’t be fair to anyone involved, no matter what the rest of the world said. “I—”