His Forbidden Princess (Dirty Royals Book 3)

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His Forbidden Princess (Dirty Royals Book 3) Page 19

by Vivian Wood


  "Nika? Nika, what's going on? You have to tell me. Are you okay?"

  He sounds frantic. I can barely nod. I can't speak. I can't move. I am struggling for breath and there's nothing that Erik can do to help.

  Erik scoops me up in his arms, groaning as he climbs to his feet. He carries me into the bedroom that we've claimed as our own and carefully places me on the bed. He sits right beside me, worry etched on his face. "Is this a panic attack? Are you having another one? Because if you're not, I have to call someone. Just nod if you are having a panic attack."

  I nod frantically. He blows out a breath and looks down at me, his hand coming up to my back. He rubs small circles into my flesh, seeming to think about what to do. "I read that panic attacks only last five or ten minutes at most. And I'm going to stay right here. I'm not going anywhere, Nika. You're going to be okay. You're going to be fine."

  A sense of doom claws its way up from my chest and I close my eyes, sucking in breath after breath. In the back of my mind, I am embarrassed that Erik has to see me this way again. But that feeling is shoved to the side by more immediate concerns.

  Erik doesn't even hesitate. He just keeps up his calming touches and reassuring words. "Everything is fine. Everyone is fine. This will pass. Everything is fine. Everyone is fine. This will pass…"

  I tremble and sweat drips off my body. Squeezing my eyes closed seems to help, in some small way. So, I do that, eventually reaching up and grabbing Erik's free hand, twining his fingers with my own.

  I'm okay. I know that I'm okay. I feel like I’m going to fucking die but I’m okay…

  I repeat those words to myself like a mantra, waiting for the panic attack to subside. After a few minutes, it seems a little easier to breathe. I don't feel the sense of approaching doom anymore. I take a deep breath and blow out a breath, opening my eyes.

  Erik is looming over me, his green-brown eyes deeply concerned. "Nika? How are you feeling?"

  Not trusting myself to speak just yet, I nod. I'm thirsty, maybe thirstier that I've ever been before. I manage to squeak out the word. "Water?"

  Erik looks beyond relieved. He lets my hand go and stand up. "I'll be right back with a glass of water."

  I close my eyes and only reopen them when he sits down beside me again on the bed, pressing a cool glass into my palm. I sip from a glass very gratefully, my heart still pounding. It takes another minute for me to regain full use of my voice.

  "Thank you, Erik. I'm starting to feel a little bit more normal now."

  He looks down at me, his expression somber. He starts stroking my back again, looking worried as ever. "You scared the shit out of me, Nika. I know you didn't mean to. But what set this whole thing off?"

  I look at my glass, avoiding his eyes. I shrug a shoulder. "I might have… gone online and checked Twitter."

  His expression turns sour immediately. "What would make you do that? Why would you do this to yourself?"

  I push out my cheek with my tongue. "I don't know. I guess… I was just feeling like things were good. You know, things between us, things with the royal palace…" I make a helpless gesture. "I'm not used to things feeling fine. Maybe I just… needed to dip my toe back in reality for a moment. And the quickest way that I knew how to do that was to check Twitter and see what people were saying about me."

  His brows rise. "I thought you were dying. I felt helpless. I don't like feeling that way. You have to find some other way of dealing with this, Nika. If that's what really set you off…"

  He looks a little angry and pretty disappointed. My cheeks flush.

  I exhale loudly. "I know. I think… I mean, I didn't know that it would cause a panic attack. But I am not used to being so… happy."

  He takes my hand, placing it against his heart and pressing it close. "I'm glad that you're happy. But this self-destructive little habit of yours? It won't work. I can't deal with it. I won't."

  Pushing myself to a seat, I reach up and touch Erik's face. "I'm sorry. Really, I am. I'll try to figure out another way to deal with it, I guess."

  He frowns. "For the record, I'm happy too. And my father is resting at the cottage, although apparently, he has turned several nurses away at the door. And so, I am just taking it as it comes, trying to keep my mind off of it. And because I need the distraction, I am extra happy that I'm here with you."

  I turned my face up to him, seeking a kiss. He brushes his lips against mine very briefly. Then he pulls back, brushing back a few strands of my hair. “I don’t want to see you hurt like that, Nika. I think you should see someone professionally. For the panic attacks, I mean."

  I screw my face up. “I did talk to a psychotherapist. For a little while, anyway. When I was a preteen, I started to realize how distorted the mirror that the press holds up to the royal family really is. And the press almost always had something to say about me. How much I did or didn’t eat. How I looked in jeans. One time, they wrote that a dress I wore made me look ‘extremely plump’.”

  His eyebrows shoot up. “They called you fat?”

  I nod. “Yeah. Can you imagine calling a twelve-year-old ‘extremely plump’? I still remember how miserable I was. I used to eat chocolate and…” I pause, not sure how much to tell him. Glancing up, I take a deep breath. “I binged on foods and then threw them up. At times, I grew tired of that, so I restricted my food intake very severely.”

  Erik’s eyes narrow on my face. “Are you saying you had bulimia?”

  I look down, embarrassed. “Not had. Have. I don’t believe that kind of disordered thinking about food ever goes away completely. If you think that I don’t know exactly how many calories I’ve had today and how many we’ve burned off fucking, you’re nuts.” I frown. “My point is, I talked to a therapist trusted by the royal family then.”

  He’s silent for a second. I glance up at him, feeling a nervous shiver slide down my spine. He looks somber. “I’m glad you told me.”

  Feeling awkward, I shrug. “Whatever.”

  “Nika,” he says, shaking his head. “I hope you realize that there is more to you than just a pretty face.”

  I roll my eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

  He gives me a little shake. “You’re intelligent. You’re deep. You’re compassionate. If anyone ever so much as breathes a word to the contrary, I’ll fucking kill them.”

  He looks dead serious when he says it. My eyes widen a little bit.

  Erik nudges me. “I mean it. And I meant what I said about you seeing a professional.” His face crinkles. “Maybe you could see someone that has nothing to do with the palace.”

  I arch a brow. “You are so quick to turn your back on the royal press office.”

  He smirks. “They’ll be glad to see the back of me.”

  “What, are you leaving?”

  His smile vanishes. “Eventually.”

  My brow hunches. “Do you want to tell me your plans?”

  He stretches, looking down. “Maybe later. What I really want is to get dressed and then make us some breakfast.”

  He presses a final kiss to my lips then gets up, heading to dress. I collapse on the bed, thinking to myself that telling him about my eating disorder wasn’t at all terrible. He just makes the past seem…

  I don’t know, far away and out of focus.

  And that’s a good thing, so far as I can tell…

  Making a mental note to look up therapists, I close my eyes for a few minutes and wait until Erik calls me to breakfast.

  28

  Annika

  Today is a special day. Not only does the day mark the one month anniversary of Erik and I officially dating. But it also happens to be my birthday.

  I know, I know. It's definitely passé and gauche to make a big deal out of what is essentially just another day on the calendar. Especially my twentieth birthday… I don't even get any special privileges for turning twenty. But even before I open my eyes, a shiver of excitement runs through me.

  I can't help it. I just love celebrating holida
ys and my birthday definitely counts as one of those.

  I open my eyes to find the space beside me in bed empty. I reach out my hand, touching Erik's side of the bed. He has obviously been gone a while because his side isn't even warm anymore.

  I sit up, looking around sleepily. From the sun slanting in the windows of the loft, I would guess that it's still early, probably only eight or nine in the morning.

  I hear some vague banging in the main area of the loft. Pushing off the heavy satin coverlet, I get up and pull one of Erik's black T-shirts on over my head. Then I pad barefoot over the cool stone floors, my eyes widening when I realize that Erik is already in the kitchen.

  He looks up at me from spreading preserves on toast, his face lighting up a little. God, the way that he looks at me just now, his warm green-brown eyes and his cool yellow hair against the backdrop of his big muscular body… I feel lucky suddenly.

  I have warm shivers all over my body and I beam at him.

  "Hey," I say, shoving a hand through my thick sinuous hair. I look at him, trying to decide whether or not to tell him that it is my birthday. It feels a little ridiculous to make a big deal out of it but there's a part of me that definitely wants to.

  "Hey. I thought I would surprise you with a little breakfast in bed. After all, it is your birthday."

  My eyes widen. “How did you even know that?"

  He finishes coating the toast with some kind of glossy fruit preserves and smiles up at me, bringing a plate full of eggs and toast over to me. Then he presents me with a little white vase with a single white rose inside of it, placing it beside my breakfast with a flourish. "I'm a mind reader, that's how."

  I roll my eyes a little, but I can't keep the stupid grin off my face. "Well… Thanks. Not to be ungrateful, but is there coffee?"

  He nods. "There is. Sit down and I'll pour you a cup."

  I noticed that there are mylar balloons and several gift boxes on the far counter. I nod at them as he delivers a fresh cup of coffee. "What are those?"

  He smiles lately. "I think they are all gifts and notes from your family. Kal made a special gift too, and I had it all delivered here."

  I arch my brow. "Nothing from you?"

  He rolls his eyes. "I didn't get you anything so tame. You can't unwrap my present. Hope it wasn't crazy, not getting you designer jewelry for your birthday."

  Shaking my head, I shoot him a shy smile. "You're not wrong."

  I pick up a piece of toast, biting into it. It's crispy and buttery and sweet. I close my eyes, enraptured for a moment.

  I don't know how I'm going to tally that in my calories for the day but damn if I'm not glad that I tasted it.

  When I open my eyes, Erik is staring at me. His expression is intent.

  "What?" I ask.

  He shrugs. "You're just beautiful when you enjoy yourself, that's all." He pushes off the counter and starts heading toward the bedroom. "You should open Kalindi’s present first. Then hurry up with your breakfast because we have a lot to do."

  I shoot him a questioning look, but he is already gone, vanished into the hall where the bedrooms are. I stuff another half piece of toast in my mouth, crunching happily, and I stand up to head to the presents.

  True to form, Kal's present is perfectly decorated. It's the one with the mylar balloons attached, balloons that probably are supposed to be for a younger girl's birthday. But they are the right shade of hot pink with big white bubble letters that say happy birthday. I pick up the hot pink and pale green polka-dotted box that the balloons are attached to. Untying the perfectly knotted green ribbon, I find an assortment of toffees and other sugar free sweets. Under that, there is a picture of me and Kal at age 11, attached to a very heartfelt poem.

  It makes me smile. My best friend has my best interests at heart, no matter whether we see each other on our birthdays or not. Something about that makes me very happy.

  All the other gifts are from Momse and my parents and other palace officials.

  A matching diamond tennis bracelet and diamond necklace. That would be from Momse. I sigh and shove it to the side, rifling through the remainder of the presents. Everything else is neatly wrapped and obviously a luxury item, but there is little evidence that any thought was put into it aside from ‘would a twenty year old girl like this?’.

  It's not surprising. And I am grateful. But I soon move on, finishing up my toast and eating a couple bites of the eggs. I slurp down half the coffee and then put my dishes in the sink, heading back towards the bedroom.

  I'm surprised to find Erik fully dressed and in dark jeans and a dark T-shirt, laying out clothes for me. He chooses something casual, a pink flouncy baby doll dress and a pair of white flats. I cock my head, narrowing my eyes at him.

  "What is this?"

  He winks at me. "Get dressed. I'm not saying that you need to wear this outfit exactly, but you don't need to go overboard on getting dressed up. We are not going to see anyone else today. We're just going to your birthday surprise."

  "Well." I wiggle my eyebrows. "Whatever I can do to make that happen, I guess…"

  In a matter of minutes, I'm dressed. Other than swapping out his practical white flats for just a strappy black heel, I take his suggestions to heart.

  He holds out a length of white silk, just big enough for me to make a blindfold. He nods at the silk. "I'm going to need you to wear a blindfold. Then we can go. We are not going very far."

  Crinkling my brow, I allow him to tie the blindfold on me. I can't see anything, but I can make out my surroundings and tons of sunlight pours in through the blindfold.

  Then he guides me out of the apartment, down the elevator, and out onto the street. I assume that we will get in a car of some sort, but Erik surprises me by just walking a very short distance, maybe three blocks or less.

  I grin as he directs me, holding me by the waist every step of the way.

  "Watch the door, there's a step there…"

  He leads me into a building and up another elevator. Then we step off the elevator and he comes around behind me, steering me to the exact place that I need to be. I can't see much but the place Erik guides me to is filled with sunlight, at least.

  "Okay," he says. His hands are still on my shoulders, his big body behind mine. "You can look now."

  I reach up and push the blindfold up, pulling it off entirely. My eyes widen as I take in the scene before me.

  I'm in a bedroom, standing right in front of a huge fourposter bed. The bed is draped with colorful hanging curtains and covered in soft white comforter. All around tiny twinkling lights are strung around the ceiling. They are mirrored by the candles that are lit on every surface: the dresser, the side tables, the low white satin chaise in the corner.

  The room screams cozy and then whispers expensive.

  The walls are covered with fairy lights and pieces of stiff linen paper, each one with a photograph attached. I'm drawn to the closest one, a photograph of me looking happy on the beach. Frowning, I turn to see another picture. This one is from the arcade, it's me and Erik, clinging to each other and looking breathlessly happy. I step back and look at more pictures… Pictures from our recent trip to the Greek Isles, pictures from our everyday lives at the palace, pictures from the Greta von Grissel fashion show. There are even a few pictures from the last few days. I turn my head and look at the next wall, which has the same pieces of linen paper but instead of the photographs, they have words.

  Kindness. Compassion. Humor. Fun. Style. Intelligence. Snark.

  Each one has a different word, but they all contain something positive.

  Frowning, I look at Erik. "What are these? What is this place?"

  He takes a deep breath, meeting my eye. "It's my house. Newly acquired, I guess you could say. And someday, I hope that you could live here too. I think for now it could be a good place to hide out from the press. I… I want you to love it."

  He draws my attention to a jar of my favorite toffees and a door that obviously leads into a
closet that is empty.

  My heart starts pounding. "Is this all for me?"

  He gives me a funny look. "Of course. Who else would it be for? It's the very beginning of your personal hideaway, I hope." He scrunches up his face. "I paid cash for it so if you don't like it, please say something now."

  My eyebrows fly up. "What, you're kidding? This place must have cost you a fortune! How… How can you afford this?"

  He rolls his eyes little. "Let's just say that I have been known to play the stock market and win big."

  I absorb all of that for a second. Nodding my head, I look around in awe. I didn't even notice that there are the same linen pieces of paper up on the third wall, listing facts about me.

  Loves coffee.

  Hates waiting in line.

  Graduated at the top of her class.

  Would choose the ocean over mountains anytime.

  I raise my hand, walking over to touch one of the cards. For some reason, this is the most touching thing that I've seen yet. My eyes mist over as I read the facts printed on each card.

  "So?"

  I blot at my eyes, turning with a question on my face. "What?"

  He looks down for a moment. And when he looks back up, his gaze is smoldering, threatening to burn me alive. "I know we haven’t been together for that long. But… I was just thinking about your rooms at the palace and how happy you’ve been for the last month, since I took you away from there. I want you to know that you will always have another place that you can live. You don’t have to be a trained seal for the royal family, Nika.”

  My heart pounds.

  My mouth is dry.

  I don’t know quite what to say.

  “This place… it’s for me?” I say again, wide eyed. It’s just so hard to wrap my head around.

  I am officially swept off my feet. I put a hand over my heart, my mouth crumpling.

  “No one has ever done anything like this for me,” I whisper. It’s the hardest thing not to just break down in tears of gratitude right now.

 

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