Page 24 of The Thing About My Prince

“Okay.” I withdraw my arms and pull my shirt down again. “If I’m going to expect you to bare your soul to me with all the traumas of your life so I can write your book, I guess it’s only fair I’m totally truthful with you too.”

He folds his arms and nods while pulling his lips inward to form a thin line.

“Time to sit for takeoff.” Melanie’s voice right behind me makes me jump.

Guess I’m a bit edgy.

“Two minutes,” Oliver says to her over my shoulder before turning his gaze back to me. “Go on.”

“You know how you feel like your whole future depends on this book being a success?”

He nods.

“Well, mine does too. I wasn’t entirely honest when I said my next job is signed and sealed and nothing can affect it.”

“Judging from the way Melanie is pacing, you have more like thirty seconds to explain that.”

“The part about me getting the war correspondent position I’ve always wanted is true. But the part I didn’t tell you is that it’s dependent on me writing your book. And if I don’t meet the deadline, I end up with no job at all.”

That is not information I ever wanted to share. Information is power. And it’s always best to not let anyone have anything on you. But now that I’ve revealed the giant weakness of how very, very much Ihaveto write this book, I have to believe he won’t take advantage of it. And hope that he’ll see that if I am trusting him, he can trust me.

I can’t remember a time I’ve ever felt more vulnerable.

“Well, that’s not what I was expecting,” he says. “But your ability to sum up what’s clearly a very complex situation in less than ten seconds is impressive.”

“And it means that while I’ve spent my whole life hating the wealth and privilege that you’re the absolute epitome of and you’ve spent your whole life hating reporters, it is in both our interests that we get along here and work together for the sake of our futures.”

His eyes scan my face for a second before he says, “Why the venom for people like me?”

I drop my head, shake it, and sigh. This is not the time or the place for that story. “That really doesn’t matter, nor is it the issue.”

And I’m becoming less certain by the second that I have anything at all against him in particular.

“Whatisthe issue?” he asks.

“That right now, given the bizarro situation we both find ourselves in, I’m the best person to help you, and you are the best person to help me. We need each other.”

“I have to get you seated for takeoff now.” Melanie’s so close her sharp breath whizzes by my ear.

Oliver’s gaze settles on mine, his eyes searching my facein a way that makes my chest tremble—purely out of nerves that he’s about to tell me to get lost one final time.

He squares his broad shoulders, which rise on a long inhale and fall slowly on a long exhale.

Then he takes his seat and nods to the one opposite.

I let out a strangledohthat releases all the pent-up tension, panic, and stress I’ve been carrying since I read his text earlier, and sit.

“I promise you, Oliver, you will not regret this.”

“Youprobably will though,” he says.

I fasten my seat belt and buckle up.

CHAPTER NINE

OLIVER

I wish it wasn’t such a clichéd drizzly, gray Scottish morning as we roll up to Glenwither Castle where my parents wait inside, presumably with expressions as inclement as the weather.