Page 78 of Royal Icing

She could see everything as clear as if it was already happening. Birthday cheesecakes, family dinners with Ruby, mountain hikes with Cooper. A baby girl with Leo’s dark eyes.

She couldnotbe thinking this way, especially not about someone she had known for barely more than a week. This was insanity. Her brain needed to shut the fuck up, and she needed to get back to work before she ruined both their lives.

“I need to get to the kitchen,” she said, voice barely more than a whisper.

His grip tightened on her. “No.”

She slithered out of his grip. “I have to. Thank you for everything. This was the most perfect date I’ve ever had. I just wish it could last longer.”

Forever, even.

He caught her hand. “Will I see you tomorrow?”

“Won’t you be volunteering?”

“Not all night.”

“Tomorrow, then.”

He pulled her in for a last kiss, and she threw her clothes on and scurried away before she ruined everything.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

LEO

Leo lay in the dark,staring at the Christmas lights shimmering on his ceiling.

His sheets still smelled like her, and her absence from his arms was like a vacuum.

This was a problem. He had never intended to get entangled with Emma. A week ago, he had been laser-focused on the community project, utterly certain of his path forward.

But now his priorities were muddied. He couldn’t stop thinking about Emma. The twitch of her rosy lips when she smiled at one of his dumb jokes. Her waterfall of hair swinging around as she danced. The warmth in her green eyes when she talked about her mom. And the fact that she would be going home after the gala.

He was panicky at the very thought. Their connection had been so instantaneous, it stole his breath. They fit together like perfectly planed wooden joists placed by a master carpenter.

But she wasn’t his.

His mother would never allow him to date an American. That had been the refrain in this house for his entire life. But suddenly, he couldn’t care less what she thought. Why did sheget to tell him how to live his life? He was a grown man, and he would love whoever he wanted to.

Wait, what the fuck? Love? Why was that word even in his vocabulary? He had barely known Emma for more than a week. It was impossible.

But in that week, she had saved his life. Saved his sister. And wound her way into his heart with that irresistible smile and gentle fortitude.

Whatever was going on with Emma—whether it was love or just lust—it wasn’t worth throwing away over some medieval idea about mixing blood.

He couldn’t let her leave. He wouldn’t.

He leapt out of bed like he was about to rush off and tell her all this. But he stopped with a hand on the doorknob.

Her dream. He hadn’t ever been part of it. What was he going to do, demand that she uproot her entire life and move to Lynoria? And besides, he had a duty to the people of this country. He couldn’t leave. And she couldn’t stay.

And beyond that, she was fiercely strong, so independent. Thriving even under insurmountable pressure that would have made him crumple in an instant. She deserved to have what she had worked for her entire life. He couldn’t do anything to compromise her plan. Even if he shattered his own heart in the process.

It didn’t matter what he was feeling. This was bigger than he was. But maybe he could do something to help her, something to take some of the pressure off.

He threw some clothes on and sent a text to Emma’s mom.

Three hours later,he slunk down the hall to the kitchen. His parents had retired to their rooms, and most of the staff had finished their shifts and gone to bed.