Lone Prince by Lilian Monroe
Rowan
I wakeup to something wet nudged against my cheek. Then I feel the slow rise and fall of breath beside me, and I smell the unmistakable scent of dog.
Opening my eyes, I freeze.
It’s a wolf. Holy shit, there’s a wolf in my bed. What kind of godforsaken place is this that wolves roam the hallways? My heart takes off, and the beast opens its eyes. Pale blue, with a dark rim around the edge.
A husky.
My heartbeat doesn’t slow, but the panic inside me ebbs away ever so slightly. The dog lets out a huff, his tongue sliding out to lick the edge of my ear. I flinch at the wetness, huffing out a laugh.
“Hey, puppy,” I say to the dog that most definitely isn’t a puppy anymore. But all dogs are puppies, aren’t they?
The dog makes a low noise, nudging my face with his cold, wet nose. Slowly, tentatively, I lift my arm from beneath the mass of blankets and reach for the husky’s head. I stroke his fur, letting a soft smile tug at my lips.
“Good boy,” I whisper, giving him a long scratch that earns me a rumble from the dog’s chest. “At least, I think you’re a boy.” I grin. “This is a nice surprise. Maybe this place isn’t so bad, after all.”
“I see you’ve met my dog,” a voice says from the doorway. I pause my scratches when I see the Prince of Nord leaning against my doorway. How did he get there without me even noticing?
Sitting up, I glance under the covers to make sure I’m still wearing clothing. Flannel pajamas. Phew.
My eyes crawl back up to the Prince’s, and it takes all my self-control not to gape. His crisp, white shirt has the top button open, giving me a glimpse of the muscular chest beneath it. His arms are crossed, all bulging biceps and broad hands.
Even from all the way across the room, he exudes power. Masculinity. Heat wraps around my core, reminding me that I’m a woman.
I shouldn’t be thinking this. He’s royalty. I’m not. I broke up with my boyfriend because I was determined to make it on my own—the last thing I should be doing is fantasizing about someone else.
Or maybe that’s the best thing to do?
I’m not going to be here long, anyway. What would it hurt to indulge in a few innocent thoughts?
I clear my throat. “Good morning, Your Highness.” I dip my chin. “I’m sorry. I just woke up and he was here.”
“Chief came straight here last night,” he replies, clicking his tongue at the dog. Chief stands up from my side and hops off the bed, padding on the plush carpet toward the Prince.
I miss the weight of the dog’s body next to mine, but I force a smile. “Oh. He came to me? Why?”
“Fuck if I know,” Prince Wolfe spits, shooting me a glare.
I wince.
He rests a hand on the dog’s head, and he looks like a wild, tribal king showing me who’s in charge. I’m so very keenly aware that I’m in bed. That he’s only a few steps away. That there’s heat licking the inside of my stomach in a way I haven’t felt in a long time.
The Prince’s eyes sweep over me once more. He tilts his head. “Are you going to do any work today, or are you just going to lie in bed all morning?”
Heat turns to anger, flaring bright in my chest. Rude.
“I was hypothermic less than twenty-four hours ago,” I snap, then immediately blush. He’s royalty, after all. But fuck if I’ll let anyone speak to me that way. I had enough of that from my ex, and I left him behind in Farcliff. No one gets to talk to me like anything less than an equal.
“You were. I hope you learned the importance of appropriate clothing. I don’t exactly make a habit of saving damsels in distress.” His amber eyes flash, a deep well of contempt flowing just for me.
How wonderful.
“I learned that I could count on you to undress me when I’m unconscious,” I spit, meaning the words to sound like an insult—but the Prince’s lips curl into a smirk, and I draw in a sharp breath.
He chuckles gently, still stroking his dog between the ears. “Is that a request for more of my services? I’d be happy to undress you while you’re awake, if you prefer.”
“Don’t make me barf.”
Lie.
My body heats up at the thought of the Prince’s hands on me. Are they as rough as he is, I wonder? Or are his palms smooth and soft? Would he grip me tight and cage me in, showing me just how wild he can be?
The Prince stares at me like he can read my mind. “Don’t kid yourself, princess. I see the way you look at me.”
“Oh, good. You really are arrogant and rude. I was worried for a second. I thought that might have been an act last night.”
Prince Wolfe tilts his head, a playful light shining in his eyes. “You know nothing about me, do you?”
“I know you enjoy being an ass.” Ahh, shut up, Rowan! This guy is literal royalty, and I’m running my mouth. Am I drunk? Can I blame this on hypothermia?
“I’m not an ass,” the Prince says, pushing himself off the doorway. His eyes grow hard. “I’m much worse than that. Now get out of bed and get dressed. The office is ready for you. I have some issues to discuss with you regarding your preliminary designs for the palace.”
“You’ve looked at my designs?” My brows tug together. Then, for the first time, I notice the dark smudges under his eyes. The drawn skin. The deep tiredness that seems stitched into his very being. Did he stay up all night looking through my work?
Instead of answering, the Prince clicks his tongue for Chief to leave the room.
“Wait!” I call out. The Prince pauses, glancing over his shoulder. I motion to my phone on the nightstand. “There’s no reception on my phone. I’d like to call my grandmother.”
“The cellular network is down on account of the storm. You can use the satellite phone once we’ve talked over the design issues,” he says, his voice hard.
Ice freezes my veins as my jaw hardens. How dare he. I grit my teeth. “You’re going to use my grandmother as a bargaining chip for your stupid design ideas? I need to speak to her. Now.”
He arches an eyebrow. I cross my arms. Tension heightens between us, and I do my best to look tough. My lips pinch together, but it’s less out of anger and more to stop my bottom lip from trembling.
The Prince stares at me for a moment, then walks away.
My heart beats erratically. I feel flushed and cold and confused.
Why is he here? This wasn’t supposed to happen. It was supposed to be me and Grandma for a few weeks. She said she’d take me up the mountain in a snowmobile. I’d do some research and finalize my design, then head back home.
No Prince. No royalty. No drama.
Looking at the open door, I sigh. Of course he wouldn’t close it behind him. That would be far too considerate. Big Bad Prince Wolfe doesn’t close doors when he leaves rooms. He probably has an army of minions scurrying behind him to clean up after His Royal Jerkness. He probably expects me to kiss the ground he walks on.
Screw. That.
I refuse to curtsy for that asshole. Sure, he saved my life. He brought me in when I could have died, exposed to the elements—but he’s made me feel like absolute garbage ever since. Mocked my choice of clothing, when everyone says they’ve never seen a storm like this so early in the year. And I haven’t been able to speak to my grandmother, who was a huge reason I came up here in the first place. Yet he expects me to jump out of bed and discuss the design of the castle?
Who cares about the design of this stupid place! Even the best architect couldn’t save this gothic, dark, gloomy hellhole without the use of a very big bulldozer.
Sliding out of bed, I stomp across the room and slam the door. Letting out a long breath, I drop my chin to my chest. My body feels weak, and I’m worried for Grandma. The last thing I want to deal with is a moody prince who thinks he owns the world.
Padding to the bathroom adjoining my room, I inhale sharply. Floor-to-ceiling marble. Soft, white towels. Gleaming chrome finishes with a rain shower bigger than my head. There are luxury soaps and shampoos and conditioners, and even a brand-new electric toothbrush for me to use.
I strip off my pajamas and with them, my thoughts of the Prince. I wash all my bitterness away and tilt my head toward the stream of water, thinking of my grandmother. Everyone says she’s safe and she’ll recover. They say she had a fall, but she’s resting at the hospital with the best doctors in the kingdom. Still, I worry.
When I get out of the shower, I’ll find the satellite phone the Prince was talking about and I’ll call her. Her voice will soothe me, and she’ll tell me what I should do. I’ll make sure she’s okay, and then I’ll book the first available plane or helicopter or bus or train—whatever mode of transportation will get me out of here quickest.
Without Grandma here, I have no reason to stay. I’ll spend the next couple of days doing my research, then I’m leaving as soon as the storm lets up.
Away from this northern wasteland, and away from the Prince.
Turning the taps off, I let out a sigh. As soon as I open the shower door, my skin starts prickling with goose bumps in the cool air, and I rush to wrap myself in a giant towel. Mm…fluffy. When I open the door to the bedroom, my eyebrows jump. Someone’s been here to make the bed and bring a tray full of breakfast. Croissants, steaming-hot coffee, fresh fruit, eggs—the works.
Maybe I shouldn’t leave right away. I grin, attacking a croissant as my eye catches another bundle near the door. A big, black phone that almost looks like a walkie-talkie rests on the floor near the door. Beside it, a card with nothing but a phone number on it and one letter. W.
Wolfe?
My heart thuds against my ribs. Did the Prince send this? Found the number for my grandmother’s hospital room and everything?
I shake my head.
He has minions. One of his minions did it. Not him.
Still, he listened to my protests and heard me when I said I wanted to talk to Grandma. That counts for something, right? Is this the same man who demanded I get out of bed and do some work? The same man who resents the fact that he had to help me yesterday? The same man who isn’t even supposed to be here?
I bite my lip, doing my best to ignore the fluttering in my belly.
Fine, I’ll admit it. He’s gorgeous. He’s all broad and strong and manly. When he talked about undressing me, wetness leaked out of me like I was a hormonal teenager lusting after her first crush.
But he’s an asshole. I don’t care if he saved my life. I don’t care if he does something nice, because he’s infuriating and rude and arrogant and—
Ugh.
It would be so much easier if my body would cooperate. Stop seeing him as a big, powerful man with intoxicating eyes. Stop imagining what he’d look like naked. Stop getting wet and hot and twisted up inside over a man who will never be mine.
Never, ever, ever.
Shaking the thought of the Prince away, I dial the number on the card. My grandmother answers on the fourth ring, her soft voice immediately making my anger evaporate.
“Hey, Grandma,” I say, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Rowan, honey.” Grandma sighs. “They told me you had to walk from the station. I’m so sorry, baby. I had everything organized and then I had to go and slip on the ice and break my hip. I’m getting old.”
“I want to see you.”
“I’m fine, Rowan,” Grandma replies. I can hear the smile in her voice, but she sounds tired. “I’ll be up and walking in no time.”
“What did the doctor say? Was it a bad break?”
“Don’t you worry about me. The royal family made sure I have the best doctors here, and they said they don’t need to operate. I just need some rest. As a bonus, I get to avoid that big storm. I’m lucky.”
“I’d hardly call a broken hip luck.”
Grandma chuckles. “You just square away the design and get the pictures and details you needed from the palace. They told me the Prince arrived at the same time as you.”
“Yeah,” I answer, biting my lip. “He’s…Is he always such a…”
Grandma sighs, filling in the blanks when my voice trails off. “He was a very happy baby, but things changed when he got older. You know the King and Queen died when they were young, and the Prince felt like he had to take care of his siblings. His sister’s older, but he was always the protective one. Then there was everything with his fiancée…”
“What happened?” I frown, raking through my mind for memories. I remember reading something about his fiancée dying a few years ago, but I mostly go out of my way to avoid news of Nord. Reminds me too much of my mother and the ancestry I’ve never felt a part of.
Grandma makes a soft noise. “The Prince has a protective spirit. He’ll warm up to you.”
I scoff.
Grandma pretends not to notice. “The Summer Palace still tends to loosen him up. Don’t you worry about him. His bark is worse than his bite.”
“As soon as I’m done here, I’ll come straight to see you.”
“Okay, honey,” Grandma says. “I love you. Be good.”
When I hang up the call, I stare at the phone for a few moments. Grandma’s okay. She sounds strong. She might not be beside me, but maybe at her age, it’s better to spend the winter somewhere south of here. This could be for the best.
But my plan still stands. As soon as I’ve had this meeting with the Prince and I’ve gotten the pictures and details I need, I’m gone. When the storm lets up, I’ll be on the first train out of here.
