CHAPTER ELEVEN
W HAT L EXI REALIZED over the next weeks was that trusting her husband meant she began to trust him with her heart. She was falling in love with him.
At first, she thought it was a side effect of the love she felt for her son. She was utterly enraptured with Prince Eryk Rolf Alexander Thorolf. He cried loud, consumed gallons and slept hard. He had fine blond hair and piercing blue eyes and smiled when he dreamed. He had two doting and underworked nannies because Lexi liked to keep him where she could see him.
She especially loved seeing him with his father.
That’s when she began to recognize what was happening to her. Magnus would show up in the middle of the day and say, “I only have a minute before my next meeting, but I wanted to see what sort of trouble you two were getting into.”
It was never more dramatic than nursing or snuggling while she read a book, but Magnus would kiss her and steal Rolf from her arms and tell him state secrets in Isleifisch before he handed him back and kissed her again.
She would just melt through those hit-and-run moments of affection, then she would begin counting the minutes until he came back for the evening.
Almost from the first night they had brought him home, after Rolf was bathed and fed, Magnus would take him to see the queen.
Lexi half suspected Magnus did it so she would get used to trusting that it was safe to let her baby out of her sight for a half hour. It caused her the normal amount of new-mother anxiety, but she also knew that her son needed to bond with his aunt, since Katla would provide him guidance on the role he would one day assume.
One evening, Magnus hadn’t turned up by the time Rolf usually went up so Lexi took him. She was still recovering from her surgery, so she was moving slowly.
“You carried him up the stairs yourself?” Katla scolded. “Why didn’t you take the pram and the elevator?”
Because that was an even longer walk, but Lexi didn’t say so.
“Do not set back your recovery, Lexi. You need to attend that summit in New York with Magnus next month. Otherwise, your countrymen will think we’re holding you hostage.” She held Rolf aloft. “You’re such a big, strong boy, aren’t you?”
Lexi took her at her word. A few nights later, Magnus swept into their suite muttering impatiently, “These people who don’t know how to end a meeting without telling you what they’ve already said.” He looked around. “Where is he?”
“I sent him up.” She set aside the book she was reading.
“Is he walking already? They really do grow up fast.” He picked up her feet and sat, then set her feet in his lap, exactly as he had done so often while she’d been pregnant.
“Ulmer said that since we’ll be in New York over American Thanksgiving, he thinks I should host a charity dinner.” She wrinkled her nose. “At first, I thought he meant serving meals at a soup kitchen, which I’m happy to do, but he means putting on a whole...thing.”
“Why are you reluctant?”
“I was hoping I could stay here in the palace. Maybe never go outside again?”
“Ah. Well, I thought I could finally have someone prettier than Ulmer standing beside me while I make all my appearances.”
“It’s a tight race,” she said with a grimace. “I’m not feeling very pretty.”
“Why the hell not? Because I’m not crawling all over you, telling you how irresistible you are?” In a swift move, he was between her legs, wide hands easily dragging her hips down the sofa so he could loom over her and plant a long, lazy kiss on her mouth.
She caught her breath in surprise, then relaxed into the kiss, letting her leg curl around his waist. Her arms twined around his shoulders and she burrowed her fingers beneath the binding on his hair, looking for the heat of his neck.
“This sex ban is torture.” He nipped lightly at her chin. “How are you not aware that I’m ogling your breasts at every opportunity? You are very, very beautiful, goddess. Let me show you off.”
“People will judge,” she said in a plaintive whisper, stroking his beard. “I didn’t care before. Well, I did.” It had hurt like hell. “But it was only me they were judging so I could stand it. Now they’ll judge you for marrying me. It doesn’t matter if I make a mistake or not, they’ll find one and everything I do will reflect on you and Rolf.”
“It will,” he agreed in his no-nonsense way that always seemed to pull the rug on her. “But you are such a fierce warrior behind this angelic face of yours.” He swept his fingertip along her brow and down her cheek. “I know that you’ll slay them in your sly, ruthless way.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” She pushed at his shoulder.
“Oh, please. You win people over with laser-focused charm. Even Ulmer has started to hyperventilate if he risks disappointing you. ‘The princess will be waiting, sir,’” he mocked. “I caught the cook having a little cry because you gave her some things to send to her niece for her birthday. How did you even know it was her niece’s birthday?”
“We were chatting. She’s a fan of Paisley Pocket. I was being nice, not manipulative.”
“I know. I’m not insulting you. It’s a strength . That’s why I want you by my side, Lexi. I’m proud of you. I like being out with you.”
His words went into her like the sweetest blade, pushing tears into her eyes. Did he really say he was proud of her?
Magnus didn’t say anything he didn’t mean. She’d learned that much about him.
They kissed again and she clung to his shoulders, thinking, I’m falling. This is what it means to fall in love.
It was a visceral sensation that was both beautiful and terrifying. In another world, falling in love with her husband would be ideal, but as she regained her physical strength, she was losing the battle to keep her heart.
Did she need to guard it, though? Magnus was incredibly protective of her. As they began making appearances across Isleif, the slightest overstep by anyone was glared into apologies by her ferocious husband.
That was the real reason people fell over themselves to please her, she suspected wryly. But his defense of her built her confidence in their marriage and herself.
By the time they landed in New York, she had almost convinced herself she was not that old person the trolls loved to vilify.
They arrived to a crowd rabid with excitement and a friendly press conference that was mostly photos. Lexi did one softball interview with a morning show where she talked about being a new mother. Rolf made a brief appearance, sending the studio audience into coos of adoration. Being his father’s son, Rolf scowled once at the lights and cameras, then ignored them in favor of rooting for her breast.
Lexi then attended a handful of meet-and-greets with Magnus, shaking hands with the president. She spent a couple of hours helping serve lunch at a shelter and visited children in a hospital.
High on her success, she came into their hotel bedroom to find Magnus undressing for his shower. She was in her robe, having just showered herself, since they were expected at a mixer this evening.
“I just did something scary.”
“What’s that?” He pulled off his belt and threw it on the chair.
“I told the nanny that we’ll be out for several hours tomorrow, so I think we should have a small rehearsal. I pumped two bottles and told her to see if Rolf will take one when he wakes. Then I said I was going to rest for an hour and not to disturb me.”
Magnus slid his gaze to the bed, then the clock on the table beside it.
“You’re invited,” she clarified. “In case you didn’t know what day it is.”
“I can count,” he assured her as he padded toward her.
When his hand came out, she thought he was going to scoop her around the waist and drag her into him, but he turned the lock on the door behind her.
Then he used both hands to wrench open the robe, throwing it to the floor and leaving her naked and cutting off her scream of shock. She slapped her hand over her mouth, laughing, certain the staff would hear her, but he was already picking her up so her legs had to wind around his waist while he walked her to the bed and came down on top of her.
“I will make every single one of the next sixty minutes count,” he promised as he dragged his mouth to her throat and left a wet kiss there.
“The doctor said it might be uncomfortable. I might need lube. There’s some in my makeup bag.” She looked toward the bathroom.
“I’ll fetch it if we need it.” He looked up from circling his tongue on her distended nipple, then reached between them to tear her underwear away, leaving a small friction burn near her hip. “But we never have before, have we?”
And down his mouth went, pausing to skim lightly over the numb line of her scar before he parted her folds and anointed her, preparing her. Driving her to the brink of orgasm within moments, then leaving her panting and whimpering in loss as he stood to tear off his own clothes.
When he came back down on her, she opened arms and legs to welcome him. She groaned with delight at the feel of his splayed hand possessing her ass, holding her steady as he carefully forged into her. She bit her lip, experiencing a virgin-like sting, but reveling in it because his nostrils were flaring and his eyes were blazing and he shook with the effort to hold on to his control.
She loved him, she acknowledged as a brilliant glow filled her. She loved this man who claimed her, groaning in helpless need, and folded himself across her.
This was the man she had met in Paris, the one who consumed her, but it was also the man who had come to know that she liked a caress in her lower back while they made love. One who knew he could rise on his knees and arch her over his arm and tell her to make herself come so he could feel it. One who held back so he could arouse her again and again, tipping her over the edge and picking her up until she was glassy-eyed with sexual excess, utterly his.
Then he unleashed himself, letting his shout of gratification fill the room.
And, because they still had eleven minutes, he dragged her into the shower where he gently soaped her and set tender kisses on her heavy eyelids and told her she was too sexy for words and that she would be his downfall.
She laughed, drunk on eroticism, but that word—downfall—came back to her later, haunting her.