Chapter Nineteen
Nineteen
LAILA
“You know what your problem is?” Lady Jane asks. I look up from my book to find her pointing at me with an accusatory carrot.
Even if I don’t say anything, she’s going to tell me what my problem is. I slide the bookmark inside the pages and close it, putting it on the table. I was having a quiet lunch to myself here in the kitchen, just me and my book, a mug of tea, and some cheese and crackers, but then Lady Jane showed up, on some carrot stick diet, and hasn’t stopped talking since.
“What is my problem?” I ask her.
“You need to get laid.”
Thank god I don’t have a mouthful of tea, or I would have spit it out.
“Excuse me?”
Her smile curves around the carrot she’s eating. “You heard me. You need to get laid.”
I attempt to swallow, willing my cheeks not to go pink, but they feel a little hot already. “Why do you say that?” I say after a moment.
“Because,” she says, gesturing to the kitchen. “Look at where you are. It’s Sunday afternoon, your one day off, and you’re here. In this bloody kitchen. Reading a book!”
I roll my eyes. “I happen to like my book.”
“You should be out there.” She jabs her carrot toward the window. “Downtown. In the bars. Meeting men. Or women. Anyone. Hooking up, having fun.”
I give her a steady look. “I’m quite happy the way I am.”
“Nah,” she says dismissively. “You’re becoming one complicated Norsewoman.”
“What?”
“I know this is a tough job, I really do, but you’re cracking a little under pressure.”
I open my mouth to say something, but sympathy flashes in her eyes and she quickly carries on.
“I know you just lost your grandmother. I know how hard that is. That’s why I worry about you, darling. I don’t think it’s healthy for a woman your age to have no friends, to be cooped up in this house all alone.”
“I’m not alone,” I protest. “You’re here.”
“I’m an old woman,” she cries out, laughing. “You need friends your age. Or maybe a man who can show you a good time.”
I know what she’s getting at. The problem is, I’m too tired to try to deflect. Because she’s right. I do need a friend. I need someone to talk to. And Lady Jane is that friend.
I push back my chair and stand up. “I’m going for a walk. Care to come along?”
She frowns at me, her brows tangling with her bangs. I’ve never gone for a walk with Lady Jane before.
“Sure,” she says, putting her carrot sticks back in the glass container. “Let’s go.”
It’s not long before we’ve got our boots and coats on and are stepping out into the snow. It’s sunny today, and I wish I’d brought my sunglasses.
We walk off down the driveaway and toward the road. It’s been quiet here the last few weeks now that the holidays are over. Magnus went into Oslo with Einar and Ottar for fun, and even though it’s James’s day off, he went along with them anyway. Ella and the boys are somewhere in the house.
“So what’s on your mind?” Lady Jane asks me. She has short legs compared to me and has to move them twice as fast to keep up. “Are you about to confide some secret in me? Because I know I have a reputation as a bigmouth, but I promise I can keep it in the vault. Believe it or not, I have many people’s secrets there.”
“Good to know,” I tell her, giving her a stern look. “Because what I’m about to tell you, you can’t tell anyone.”
“I promise,” she says, making the sign of the cross over her heart. “Swear to it.”
I take in a deep breath, trying to figure out how to say it when there is so damn much to say. “I’m in love with James,” I blurt out.
Well, shit. I definitely didn’t mean it to come out like that.
Lady Jane stops dead in her tracks, an incredulous look coming over her face. “You what? You’re in love with him?”
I press my lips together and nod, afraid of what else I’m going to say. I mean, I don’t even think I knew I was in love with him for certain, just that I was falling for him. And yet it just came tumbling out. “I think, anyway.”
“No, you are,” she says. “Oh, I see it now, darling. I see it. I really thought you were just going to tell me you were sleeping with him, though.”
“I’m doing that too. Or I was. We keep…I keep trying to break things off.”
“What for? You have a man like that giving you some loving, you hang on to that.”
“It’s complicated,” I try to explain. “For one, it’s not allowed.”
She shrugs. “I can see how it would be frowned upon, but it’s not like there is a bloody rule book of dos and don’ts…” She trails off. “Actually, maybe there is.”
“Pretty sure there is,” I tell her as we head down a path through the trees, snow falling off the branches around us like icing sugar. “There is protocol. Ella mentioned it to me when I got hired, just as an aside. The king and queen are especially sensitive about scandals since Prince Magnus is a reformed bad boy with the sex tape and all the gossip from before he met Ella.”
“Does it say anything about shagging the bodyguards?” she asks. “Because I’ve got my eye on Einar.” She wags her brows.
I burst out laughing. “I don’t think so. But even so, I know I would get in trouble.”
“Right,” she says thoughtfully, brushing her bangs out of her eyes. “So I suppose that’s something to worry about.”
“Yeah. It is. I mean, we got away with it once. I don’t think we’ll get away with it again,” I say.
“You what? Where? Oh my god. You were shagging up at the Fairfaxes’, weren’t you?”
I bite back a smile, trying not to look proud, but the last few weeks of shagging must be visible on my face.
“You harlot,” she cries out, smacking me on the arm. “I knew it! I called it the day he arrived, didn’t I?”
“You did.”
“So why are you telling me now?”
I shrug. “I guess I trust you. And honestly, back then, I didn’t want anything to happen. Things had ended badly between us. I wanted him to stay as far away as possible.”
“What happened?”
I run my hand over my face and sigh, looking down at the snow between us. “I did a dumb thing and blurted out how I was feeling, much like I just did with you. I told him I was falling for him, and he just freaked the fuck out and wouldn’t talk to me after that.”
“James did that?” she asks with an air of disbelief and disappointment. “Fucking men, huh?”
“Yeah. So you can see why I wasn’t happy to find out he’d be working alongside me again.”
“But now you’re sleeping together,” she says.
“That’s right.”
“And you’re not just falling for him this time, but you’re properly in love with the Scottish bastard?”
“I guess so.”
“Hmm,” she muses. “I can see why you needed to confide in someone. That’s a tough thing to deal with. On the one hand, you’re getting all the sex you want, if you want it. On the other, you’re in love with him, and if you tell him, he might end up running again.”
“Exactly. I’m fucked.”
She nods. “Yes, it appears you might be. But do you have any idea of how he feels?”
I shake my head and stop walking, looking at the snowy clearing, the tall pines around us. I take in a deep breath. “No clue.”
“Well, is he any different now with you than he was then?”
“Yes,” I say, and I don’t even have to think about it. “He’s very different. He’s more open, more vulnerable, more affectionate, more…involved. Tender. Like he doesn’t just want my body; like he wants all of me. Maybe my heart and my soul, I don’t know. It’s too much to ask for when it comes to him because I still see that fear inside him, the fear of getting hurt, of losing himself again.”
She lets out a long exhale, giving me a sympathetic look. “Well, that may be your answer there. You were falling for him before, now you’re in love with him. Isn’t it possible that this time it’s different for him too? You’re not going to know unless you tell him.”
I shake my head, my heart feeling constricted. “No. I can’t do that. I can’t go through that again.”
“Then it looks like you’re going to have to find out how he feels, one way or another,” she says. “Why not pull him aside one night and see?”
I smile. “You know that pulling him aside will only lead to sex.”
“So then at least you’re getting something out of it. Come on, let’s go back and make some tea. My toes are frozen. I’m not made for this bloody weather.”
···
Despite the pep talk with Lady Jane about James, I don’t actually work up the nerve to pull him aside and talk to him about how I feel. It’s been a week now, and I’ve done nothing to deal with it, my love for him turning into a festering mess inside me, until I must be bleeding out through my pores. Every time I see him now I feel like I can’t breathe and my gut churns and my heart beats wildly, as if to remind me that it’s still here and it wants what it wants. I’m lovesick, and it sucks, and I don’t think James has any idea.
But today we’re going out with the family to Holmenkollen, the ski jump in Oslo where one of Ella’s environmental charities is holding a competition, and I’m looking forward to being out of the house and around civilization. The more distance I can put between James and me, the better, if I’m going to be a wreck around him. And once he’s in bodyguard mode, he becomes even more untouchable.
We ride to the event in two separate cars, but because I’m with the boys, James is with me. Even being in the close confines of a car with him makes my blood run hot, despite the fact that Bjorn and Tor are yelling and bouncing around in their seats at the excitement of seeing some ski jumping.
“Ah, field trips,” James says as we get out of the car, breathing in deeply as he looks around. Holmenkollen is located at the top of the five-hundred-meter mountain that overlooks Oslo, giving stupendous views of the city and harbor. Up here the snow is deeper, the sun brighter, and the air fresh and cold. There’s a large black wooden chapel up here as well, which we went to for the Christmas ceremony, and next to it the Royal Lodge where the king and queen spend a lot of their holidays.
James gives me a small smile before he slips on his sunglasses, then his face turns into a mask, and I know he won’t say another word to me until we’re back in the car going home.
I bring my attention to the boys and do what I can to keep them in the background and out of the way as we follow Magnus and Ella through the crowd toward the podium, where an even larger crowd has gathered. We Norwegians love everything to do with skiing, and this sort of event is no exception, especially at Holmenkollen, which is serviced by the Oslo Metro line, making it easy for anyone to come and visit.
To be honest, the crowds are making me a little uneasy. The distraction from James feels good at first, but after a while there are just too many people and too much to focus on. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve gotten used to the isolation at the estate, but today seems especially overwhelming.
And I’m not the only one who feels it. Bjorn is starting to get anxious, and even sweet Tor is getting fussy and squirmy. I hold on to both of them with an iron grip, keeping them far behind their parents as Ella starts to make her speech about what the charity did for the Norwegian environment last year and the new goals for this year. The whole event is basically an excuse to get the public reinterested in Ella and Norway’s environmental initiative. Despite being a country funded mainly by oil and gas, Norway already has some hearty subsidies when it comes to electric cars, making it the country with the most electric cars per capita in the world. The number of Teslas on the street rivals California.
“I want to go on the ski jump,” Bjorn cries out, tugging me in that direction.
“Bjorn,” I say, bending down to whisper to him. “You know you have to be quiet while your mother is talking. Remember last week when you said you would behave.”
He grumbles something under his breath, and I do not want to know what it is, but at least he calms down for a moment. I take the reprieve to glance around. James is standing just to the side of us and behind while Einar is at the side of Magnus and Ella. Both of them seem especially cagey today, their heads constantly swiveling. There are so many people here, and it’s only now that I’ve noticed a few protesters being held back by police, members of the oil and gas industry who aren’t happy with all the new environmental policy, no thanks to Princess Ella.
Ella pays them no mind and continues with her speech. When it’s over, Magnus leans in to the microphone and announces that the ski-jumping competition has officially begun, and everyone starts clapping.
“The boring bit is over now,” Bjorn says, tugging at my hand, and I have to bite back a laugh at that.
I put a hand on Bjorn’s shoulder and start guiding him away from the crowd, with him in front of me. “Okay, let’s go see the ski jump.”
I squeeze Tor’s hand to get him to follow, and as I do so, I glance over my shoulder at James. It’s so hard not to look at him, and I don’t expect him to be looking my way.
But he is looking my way. I can’t tell exactly what he’s looking at under his sunglasses, but he’s facing me, and his brows start to come together like he’s about to be upset or yell or something.
Instinctively I whirl around, looking at the crowd, just in time to see a tall, skinny man with a scarred face approaching me. He’s coming fast, his strides assured, and in his eyes I see only malice and a frenzied mind.
He means us harm , I think absently, fear numbing my brain.
He’s coming straight for us, not slowing down, and I see in his hand the glint of a knife.
I grip Bjorn’s shoulder hard enough for him to cry out, and I quickly shove him behind me, putting myself between the man and the boys. I hear someone in the crowd shout, “He’s got a knife!” Or maybe it’s me who says it. All I know is that I can’t let any harm come to my kids, even if it means I’m about to be stabbed.
The man opens his mouth in a garbled scream, spittle flying, the knife raised, and while everyone seems to be moving around us, no one seems fast enough to prevent the man from stabbing me right in the heart.
Except for James.
Suddenly he’s all I see, his big strong body in his fine tailored suit throwing himself in front of me and taking the brunt of the attacker.
I scream, stumbling backward, terrified that the man just stabbed James, and there are hands behind me, holding me up. The boys are screaming and Magnus and Ella are yelling as Einar swoops in to hustle them away from danger.
And all I can think of is James, my James, and I watch as he wrestles the attacker to the ground, bending the man’s arms so that the knife is dropped. James makes quick work of him, pinning the man down with his knee, holding his hands above his head, and for one horribly inappropriate moment I imagine James using that move in the bedroom, before the harsh reality of what’s actually happening slams back in.
“Laila,” Ottar says from behind me, grabbing my shoulders and pulling me and the boys away, but I’m fighting against him, trying to see if James is okay.
“James,” I cry out, a choked sound. “Is he okay?”
“I’m sure he’s fine,” Ottar says. “Please come with me. That’s an order.”
I’ve never had Ottar order me around before, and the gravity in his voice makes me listen. Lady Jane then swoops in and takes Bjorn and Tor, who are bawling uncontrollably, absolutely terrified.
We’re quickly shuffled away into the car, doors locked and guarded, waiting for the news about James and the attacker. Eventually Bjorn and Tor calm down a little, thanks to Lady Jane trying to tell them a story. I’m absolutely useless until I know what has happened to James. If he was stabbed, if he was hurt in any way, I don’t know what I’d do with myself. I’m suddenly filled with remorse over not having told him my true feelings earlier.
Finally, I see Einar, with Magnus and Ella behind him, walking toward the car, and behind them I see James.
He looks the same as before, his jacket a little rumpled, but no signs of blood or injury. The only difference is the hard set of his jaw and the flexing of a hand at his side, no doubt a product of all the adrenaline that’s running through him.
I exhale audibly, relief flooding my body as the doors open and Magnus and Ella enter the car, reuniting tearfully with the boys and fawning over me. Magnus tells me the man was part of an extremist group and that he meant to kidnap one of the boys in protest of Ella’s environmental initiative. James was able to disarm him without incident, and the man is now in police custody.
But though no physical harm came to James, it’s when he climbs into the front seat and slides his sunglasses off that I see how affected he is. It’s in the way his eyes meet mine and how the man I see staring back at me is full of nothing but fear.