The Finale

by Leigh Walker

  “Winnie will appreciate that.” I grinned, pushing my worries about what Mira had said to the back of my mind. I couldn’t wait to see my family.

  “I’ve had word they’re waiting for us downstairs.” We left the suite, followed by the camera crew, and descended the grand staircase. I saw my mother, brother, and sister in the lobby below, admiring the hotel and chatting with Mira Kinney. With the prince at my side, the stars winking through the skylights, the roaring fire, and my family so close, my heart soared.

  Dallas stole a glance at me. “You’re radiant.”

  I smiled, my heart full. “I’m very blessed. No matter what happens, I’ll keep this moment in my heart as a happy memory.”

  He squeezed my arm. “It’s just the beginning.”

  My sister caught sight of me and clapped. “Gwyn!”

  At that, I moved as fast as I could without breaking my neck to get to her. “Winnie!” I wrapped her in a hug and twirled her around, her pretty little ball gown ballooning around her. I kissed her cheeks, careful not to smudge the hint of sparkling pink blush—Mother must’ve allowed her a bit of makeup.

  “Let go,” she whispered against my chest. “I’ve got to curtsy for His Majesty.”

  Her solemn tone made me giggle. “Yes, of course.” She curtsied perfectly for Dallas while I gathered my brother in my arms, peppering him with kisses. “Hello, Remy! There’s a good boy. I’ve missed you so much!” He squirmed beneath my grasp, but I didn’t let go until I’d kissed him and told him I loved him a hundred more times.

  “Let go,” he groaned. “I’ve got to see the prince!” As soon as I released him, he went to Dallas. The prince grinned down at him, then they did some elaborate handshake that Remy had taught him the last time we’d visited.

  “Hello, my dear.” My mother was suddenly beside me, pulling me in for a formal hug that rumpled neither of us.

  “Mother.” I squeezed her back, careful of her dress.

  “I think they like him.” My mother smiled as we watched Dallas with my brother and sister.

  “What gave it away?” I snorted, feeling left out as Winnie and Remy fawned over Dallas as though he were the Easter Bunny. “I didn’t get a curtsy or a special handshake.”

  “They’re so excited over this. They’ve spoken of nothing else for days.” My mother chuckled, then shrewdly looked me over. “You look well, Gwyneth.”

  Checking that the cameras were focused on the prince and not us, I pursed my lips. “An endless supply of healthy, delicious food, luxury clothing, and a whole hair-and-makeup team will do that for you.”

  She arched an eyebrow, and I noticed that her auburn hair was expertly smoothed, and her own makeup was flawless. She was wearing a brand-new gown, dark blue with gold brocade adorning the front. “Speaking of looking good.”

  She shrugged prettily. “His Highness sent a team for us. I could get used to this, you know. I’d like to get used to it.”

  I sighed. “I’ve no idea what’s going to happen, Mother.”

  She tsked. “He’s refurbishing an entire city for you. Have some self-confidence, child. I raised you better than that. ”

  I looked at her again, her elegant features set off by the professional makeup. And then to my horror, I remembered Balkyn, starving and sunken-eyed in the dungeon of the palace. I reached for her hand and squeezed it. “Oh, Mother. You have no idea what I’m up against.” I couldn’t tell her about my brother, and I refused to tell her I’d learned that my father was at large and very ill. Neither of us could do anything about it at the moment except worry, and I vowed to protect her from that. The less she knew, the safer she was.

  “What’s the matter?” A veteran mom, she knew how to keep her voice low enough not be overheard.

  “I can’t tell you.”

  She gave me a sharp look. “Is this about our family? The episode with that other girl—the one from Eleven—was all about her parents and their support for the royals. I knew it meant trouble for us.”

  I shook my head. “It might end up being all right. But I don’t know yet.”

  “I wish the war had never happened. I wish they’d never left us.” Years of practice kept my mother’s eyes dry and clear, her back straight. You’d never know that, inside, her heart was broken.

  I reached for her hand and squeezed it. “I wish that, too.”

  Trumpets sounded, and half a dozen white-liveried servers came to the lobby. They bowed with a flourish. “Dinner is served.” Delicious smells wafted from the dining room.

  Winnie and Remy followed the waiters, skipping, and Dallas warmly greeted my mother. He offered her his arm and clasped my hand, too, and I was reminded of our walk with the queen. It was a funny feeling, having us all together. It seemed right, somehow. As if we all belonged together.

  My heart would’ve been light, and this would’ve been perfect, but the delicious meal awaiting us and the happiness of being reunited with my family served only to remind me of our missing pieces, my father and brother, who were alone and without.

  But I was my mother’s daughter. I put on a brave face and smiled for the prince, my family, and the cameras. You’d never know that inside, my heart was also broken.

  “I’m stuffed,” Remy groaned, then held up his hands to the prince. “Carry me? My stomach’s too heavy—I can’t walk.”

  Laughing, Dallas hoisted him and carried him through the lobby. We’d feasted on crab cakes, beef tenderloin, kale with lemon, and for dessert, cupcakes and chocolate cream pie. I could barely walk myself.

  I caught Winnie frowning at them and knew she was jealous. “C’mere. I’ll carry you to the car. And we’ll win.”

  “It’s not a race,” Dallas protested. But I didn’t listen. I quickly stepped out of my heels, grabbed Winnie, threw her into a piggyback position, and ran to the car. Winnie giggled the whole time and pumped her fist when we got there first. We tucked my siblings into the waiting car, a sentinel behind the wheel, and I kissed each of them. Dallas and Remy did their fist bump. Then the prince kissed both my mother and Winnie’s hands. “Thank you for a lovely evening.”

  My mother beamed. “Your Highness, your kindness knows no bounds. We are honored to dine with you. I daresay I even approve of leaving you with my daughter overnight.” We’d offered them a suite, but it was late, and my mother wanted Winnie and Remy to get a good night’s sleep in their own beds. We were meeting again in the morning for a ribbon-cutting ceremony at the clinic.

  He coughed. “I will keep her safe, my lady, and I will protect her honor.”

  She smiled at him. “I know you will.”

  They drove off into the night, and Dallas reached for my hand. “It’s late.” My heart rate kicked up as I nodded, following him inside. I grabbed my shoes but didn’t bother to put them on. Weary from the long day, we took our time climbing the stairs. Even the production crew seemed tired. They dragged their equipment along, still filming, but several of the human team were yawning. Once we reached our suite, Dallas turned to Mira, the production crew, and the sentinels. “Leave us.”

  Mira frowned. “Your Highness, we had an agreement—”

  “And the agreement was that you could film everything except when I told you that you couldn’t. I am exercising my right to privacy and a good night’s sleep.”

  Mira crossed her arms against her chest. “With all due respect, Your Highness, you don’t sleep.”

  He cleared his throat, undeterred. “I’m also protecting Miss West’s rights. So go to bed, all of you, or at least take a break. We’ll all be bloody up and back at it at the crack of dawn.”

  Mira’s shrewd gaze flicked from the prince to me. “As you wish, Your Highness.” They immediately left us, except for the sentinels who would guard our doors throughout the night.

  Now I was alone with the prince, and I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

  “Come.” Dallas led me into the suite, unbuttoning the top portion of his uniform. Just the brief glimpse of his
chest had my heart somersaulting in a way that almost made me feel sick. He poured himself a glass of wine, then another very tiny one for me. “Here. You look like you need this.”

  I accepted it but set it on a nearby table. If a peek at the prince’s chest had me on the edge of a coronary, I needed to keep my wits about me.

  He sank into the chair beside me. “What’s wrong?”

  “Uh… I guess I’m a bit nervous about being alone with you.”

  He shook his head. “That’s not what I meant, but we can discuss that in a moment. I meant, what was wrong all through dinner? You were just going through the motions. I could tell something was troubling you.”

  I melted toward him. “You could tell, huh? You know me better than my own mother.”

  He cocked his head, as if waiting for me to go on.

  “It’s my brother.” I sighed. “And my father. I realized tonight that I have to hide everything from my mother in order to keep her safe. Plus, what good would telling her the truth do? It would break her heart even more. But it was hard to relax and enjoy the evening simply because it was so wonderful. Balkyn is starving himself to death, and my father might very well be dead. It’s hard to enjoy myself when others I love are suffering so much.”

  He reached for my hand and kissed it. “And this is why I want to be with you, Gwyneth. Because you feel things so deeply. You do not have a selfish bone in your body.”

  “Of course I do.” I shook my head. “I stuffed myself silly with crab cakes and chocolate cream pie while my brother rots in a dungeon. I’m a hypocrite.”

  “You don’t see yourself the way I do. I see a loving sister, a dutiful daughter, and a patriot.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “A patriot? How’s that?”

  “You were brave enough to come to the palace. You’ve been brave enough to weather the storm since you’ve been there. You’ve done that for your people, to give them hope.”

  “Dallas, I was ordered to come to the palace. And about being brave since I’ve been there—I rather think my survival instincts have kicked in. Fight or flight, you know.” I blew out a deep breath. “While we’re speaking about my role in the competition, I should tell you, Mira Kinney has a few thoughts on the topic.”

  Dallas had another sip of wine. “I’m sure she does.”

  “She wants me to be honest about my father, about my family’s rebel connections. She talked to me about it earlier.”

  He considered me. “And what did you say?”

  “I said your father would see me hanged.”

  He put down his glass. “Over my dead body.”

  I bit my lip. “I don’t know… I don’t know what to do.”

  “Come here.” Dallas pulled me onto his lap, and heat rushed through me as he played with the delicate silk of my gown. “I don’t want you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. That being said, I have ideas about how I want to govern moving forward. Those ideas include being more honest and more inclusive of the real experience of our citizens—the rebel experience. Not the propaganda of my father riding in on a white horse and saving the settlements.”

  I swallowed hard. “I understand that, and I agree with your sentiments. But I don’t want your father to hate me any more than he already does.”

  Dallas nodded. “I understand. Let’s leave it alone, for now.” His voice was soft. “Let’s talk about what else is bothering you—being alone with me tonight.”

  “I’m not bothered.” A hot blush crept up my neck. “It’s just that we’ve never been this close together before. Unsupervised.” The more I thought about it, the redder I became.

  “You don’t need to be nervous. As I told your mother, your virtue is safe with me.”

  I swallowed hard. “I know.”

  He tapped me under the chin, bringing my gaze to meet his. “You should go to bed now and get some rest. Tomorrow is another long day. There’s a lock on your door. Use it, so that you may be comfortable.”

  “But I trust you one hundred percent—” I said hotly.

  “It’s not to lock me out.” Dallas chuckled darkly. “It’s so you can lock yourself in.”

  “Oh, you…you…” I spluttered, my fists clenched. “Of all the egotistical, presumptuous, cocky, conceited things I’ve heard… Ugh!” Red-faced, fuming, and muttering curse words, I shot up from his lap and stormed to my room.

  As I locked the door, I could still hear him bloody laughing.

  Chapter 12

  It Could All Be So Simple

  I stomped around until, a moment later, he knocked.

  I unlocked the door and glared. “What?”

  Dallas looked sheepish. “I’m sorry. I was only teasing.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m so sure.”

  He reached for my hand, but I pulled away.

  “Gwyneth.”

  “What?” I had very little patience left, and I could still see the top of his pale, muscular chest. Must. Get. A. Grip. And not on him, although it was very tempting.

  He stepped closer, and my heart did another somersault. “Please accept my apology.”

  I sighed. “Fine. There’s some truth to it, I suppose.” My gaze again flicked to the flash of his chest peeking through.

  “You’re not the only one who feels that way.” He came closer still, putting his hands on my hips. “May I please kiss you good night?”

  His proximity—his big hands against my hips, his scent, his gaze burning into mine—undid me. I couldn’t even pretend to hesitate. “Of course.” I immediately sank my hands into his hair and crushed my lips against his.

  He moaned and pulled me closer.

  Our tongues connected, and in that moment, time stopped. A hot flash of desire, stronger than I’d ever felt, burned through me. Dallas tightened his grip on my hips, deepening the kiss, and I pressed against him.

  He pulled back a moment later, his chest heaving. “Well. That was…something.”

  “Was?” I asked a bit desperately. “I’m quite sure we aren’t finished!”

  “But we have to be.” He released me, looking strained. “I must be a gentleman.”

  “Says who?”

  He chuckled but took another vexing step back. “Good night, Gwyneth. I’ll see you in the morning.” He took my hand and planted a chaste kiss on it.

  “Fine.” I frowned, a bit sourly, as he left.

  He stuck his head back into the room. “You really should lock that door,” he growled. “Maybe more for me than for you.”

  That cheered me a bit.

  It took me forever to remove the bobby pins from my hair. I sighed in relief as the long waves fell around my shoulders, free from restraint. I hummed, still tingling from the kiss, as I dug through my clothes. Finally I found what Evangeline had packed for me: a pair of blush-pink silk pajamas. I put them on, brushed my teeth, and crawled into bed.

  And then I sat there, wondering what Dallas was doing. I got out of bed and tiptoed to the door before knocking.

  “Gwyneth?” Dallas called from the other side. “Are you knocking on your own door?”

  “Yes. I didn’t want to barge in on you. May I come in?”

  “Of course.” I found him on the couch, facing the windows and looking at the night sky. He’d changed, too, into a plain gray T-shirt and navy mesh athletic shorts. Having never seen so much of his skin before, I stopped and stared.

  “Gwyneth?” He raked a hand through his hair, making it stand up in the wild spikes that I loved. “Don’t you need to get some sleep?”

  “Yes, well. About that. I was thinking.” I stared at his biceps, barely able to form a coherent thought.

  “And?” Dallas chuckled, clearly amused by my behavior.

  I finally snapped out of it. “And, as you’ve vowed to protect my virtue, wouldn’t it be all right if… I mean, if…”

  He waited for me to go on.

  “If you spent the night in my room?”

  There was no more chuckling. Dallas’s e
yes sparkled, but he looked hesitant. “Where in your room, exactly?”

  I swallowed hard. “In my bed. With me.”

  He sighed, a strangled sound. “Gwyneth, that’s not a good idea.”

  “It would be okay—we could just have a sleepover.” When he looked utterly lost, I continued, “Humans have their friends sleep over sometimes. You put on pajamas, have snacks—though we needn’t do that,” I said quickly. “And then, you know, you gossip. And fall asleep later than you should.”

  He arched his eyebrows, and did I imagine it, or was he blushing? “And would our sleepover involve kissing?”

  “Maybe a little?” I offered, hopefully.

  He chuckled. “I would love to have a sleepover with you. But I reserve the right to flee if I feel I can’t behave myself.”

  “Fair enough.” I held out my hands. “Come with me.”

  He followed me into my room, and we climbed into the enormous bed. I snuggled against him, thrilled to feel his bare skin with my fingertips. I lightly stroked his arms, and electricity crackled between us. It was suddenly very, very hot.

  He looked at me skeptically, his eyes burning. “Is this what you normally do on a sleepover?”

  “No. But I quite prefer this.” I leaned up and drew him in for a long, deep kiss.

  This time was different. We were in bed together, every inch of our bodies able to touch. I ran my hands down his broad chest, then his arms, my fingertips tingling from the feel of his skin. Dallas positioned himself over me and sank his hands deep into my loose hair. He deepened the kiss, and I moaned, arching my back. With his large physique, he emanated a brute, throbbing power. I clung to him, wrapping my arms around him and bringing him even closer, quite possibly in an attempt to pull him through me.

  “Whoa, whoa.” He broke the kiss, breathing hard. “I’m sorry. We have to stop.”

  “Why?” It was as if he was taking my favorite scone away, only a million times worse.

  “Because.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I can barely control myself around you, and I must.”