Royal Hearts (Love At The Lake #2)

Chapter 21

Twenty-One

CAT

H e stomps his boots at the back door of Vikingstrong. Snow clings to both of us as he enters the mudroom off the side of the rustic castle—me leaning against the doorjamb to catch my breath because I refuse to lean on him.

“This snow really came out of nowhere.” He’s smiling, bigger, wider than I’ve seen to date. He’s glad we’re still alive, I guess? “Doesn’t usually fall so heavy in town or on the lake, it’s got to be a record. Did you bring the chill along with the drama, Bloom?”

The snark that used to riddle his tone is no longer there. After falling off a horse and almost losing him in a snowstorm, we’re both awake in a way we weren’t before. Now, he’s playing with me. “I’m from the Bay Area, you ninny,” I say to his retreating back.

The rafters and the eaves above the door are all carved wood. I can feel the history, the charm, and the warmth of the place seeping from the mudroom inside, beckoning me to enter.

He spins, catching me off guard with a direct look. “Why aren’ t you wearing the coat I gave you? Why won’t you let me help you instead of hobbling on one foot in a snowstorm?” When I don’t respond, he huffs a disgruntled breath. “Ignore that it’s me offering the help if you must. The coat is Prada . And as for the ankle, if you don’t let me help you I’m afraid you’re only going to make it worse!”

That makes me laugh. No one has ever worried about me this much.

“You can’t buy people with gifts, Winter.” The words burst from my mouth, I can’t stuff them back in and I can’t help hating the way his face falls when he hears them. “Sorry, that was mean about the coat. Maybe I thought that’s what you were doing at first . . .”

“But not now?”

Slowly, I shake my head. “It’s not what I think now,” I say, looking up at him. “And my ankle is fine. It’s just twisted. I’ll walk it off here in a minute when it stops throbbing.”

“You’ll do no such thing.”

“I shouldn’t even be here,” I counter. “We have to get back up the mountain.”

“Why not?” His bottom lip puffs out and I’ve got an unrealistic urge to stroke my thumb across it. The way he helped me when I slipped from the horse, the way he worried. The way I worried for him when he went into the trees and didn’t come back for what felt like a very long time. “Let me take care of you, like you’ve taken care of me.”

It’s possible gifts are how he shows his affection—like the coat, the mailbox, and the sweet little key. I guess that does track, in general gift gift-giving terms of endearment.

But if I let him take care of me in that way . . . A tiny voice inside me is screaming to be careful, tread lightly. I don’t need anyone to take care of me. Even with a bum ankle and a snow storm on the way.

“Cat, I’m serious,” he presses .

“It’s not that easy for me,” I blurt, even though my mind is swimming and I honestly don’t know how I feel about him anymore. “To let someone in.”

“Can’t you elaborate?” he asks, pushing two hands through his hair. It slicks back with the wet snow, away from his face so there’s no hiding from his searching eyes. “If it’s because I was such an ass to you before, I’m sorry. I was so wrong about who you are.”

The request feels like a challenge, even though part of me knows it’s not. “I carry my own bags. I cook my own dinner. I don’t depend on anyone.” I throw my arms out wide and catch myself on the doorjam when I wobble on my bad ankle.

“But, why?” He stomps through the hall, back toward the doorway where I lean, and scoops me up.

“Hey, you can’t just do that!” He carries me over the threshold and toward a cozy cream and blue kitchen with lots of warm wood.

“Yes, I can. When you need help, Bloom, I’ll give it.” I scoff but I don’t fight him further. I’m about done fighting him, I think.

He notices my letting him manhandle me, and he gazes into my eyes. “Where I’m from, we take care of each other. Maybe not my immediate family, but my people, my culture.”

When he plops me unceremoniously on a counter, he opens his mouth again as if he’s going to launch into another scolding, or another lesson, or maybe even another question as to why I am the way I am, but Annie comes running in with fluffy slippers on her feet, knitting needles poking from a bun in her hair.

“I told him to leave,” she gasps, out of breath. “I was in my cottage, minding my own business with Penny Lane and my knitting, and saw the cars on the streetside monitors. We really should have security for this—hello, Ms. Bloomfield.”

“Cat,” I correct her, remembering our friendly conversation over the phone a few weeks ago. She smiles warmly at me.

“Who’s here?” Winter demands, paying no attention to her and fussing with removing my coat that’s soaked through from my roll in the snow.

My eyes slide over the room, a mix of creams and whites with dark wood furniture. On a carved table near a large window, there’s a stack of cream stationary and red calligraphy pen.

“Anker, in the living room. Little menace, he’s got the team with him.” While she is worrying with her hands, the look on her face is all determination.

“Who’s Anker?” I ask.

“My parents’ PR, and his team of lackeys. He’s the reason they got on board with Royal Hearts . It was all his idea, no matter he’s known me since I was three and is aware how much I hate cameras invading my life.” He takes a deep breath and turns back to Annie who’s pulling tea cups off a shelf. “I didn’t see any vehicles—my parents?” I watch his hands fidget and without thinking, reach for his arm, squeezing once to ground him.

“No, they’re still in Demark,” Under Annie’s gaze, Winter laces his fingers through mine, but if she thinks anything of it she doesn’t say. “I think the team parked down the road so they wouldn’t get stuck down here, storm coming and all. Seems Anker has been sent with a message to deliver.”

My head snaps from Annie to Winter, and I watch as all the color drains from his face.

“Wait here,” he says grimly. “Annie, can you make tea? She took a spill.”

“Poor dear.” She’s already rummaging in cabinets and filling a kettle.

I start to push off the counter but he holds firm in front of me, “I’ll come with you,” I insist.

“You don’t need to see this, Cat. They’re not a pleasant group.” He almost looks embarrassed. “I have no idea why he’s here. No one notified me of his visit.” His shoulders stretch as he leans over the counter, a hand braced on either side of my thighs. He breathes deep, as if inhaling me. “You should go. ”

My back stiffens like a rod. “Right, like I said, I shouldn’t be here. I’ll—” There’s no way for me to get back to the lodge on my own, I’ve got no plan. Still, I try and push myself off the counter. Expecting him to move.

He doesn’t budge. “No. I mean, you should go up to my room. Get dried off, and Annie will bring you tea and dry clothes. When I’m finished with this, I’ll come to you.”

“I’m really good with unpleasant people,” I say, pushing him back so I can gingerly hop off the counter. But he’s there, with hands around my waist to brace my landing. “Lead the way.” I motion to the door Annie came from. Winter eyes me to confirm this is what I want, so I say, “Please.”

“Anker, team,” Winter strides into the room, knowing good and well I’m hobbling with my head up behind him. I tuck into a stuffed chair quickly and watch him face a small man with long, slick hair, still wearing a thick wool coat, his soggy boots melting into the carpets.

“Thank you for seeing us.”

“You didn’t give me a choice, did you?” That venom I used to think was reserved only for me is back in full force, even more so than I’ve ever heard from him. It’s becoming clearer by the second how he’s grown up, and why he’s been so guarded.

“True, on request of the king and queen. So, I’ll get to it.” He eyes me over Winter’s shoulder, Winter takes a step to obstruct his view. The rest of the team sits as Annie comes through the doorway with a silver tea tray.

“Would you like a cup?” Winter gestures to a tray.

“No.”

The tray goes untouched as the people in the room look anywhere but at the two men standing toe to toe in front of the large stone fireplace decked with red poinsettias, and long, skinny, green velvet bows.

“You requested your own PR for this project after refusing to work with the Crown team. However, we’ve become aware of a personal relationship and the Crown cannot abide it—your people do not like it.”

“Nothing you’ve just said matters to me,” Winter responds easily. “Is that all?”

“Not quite. It’s come to our attention you adjusted the fee we’re paying the little American company. You insisted on paying them much more than the going rate for their services. Why is that?”

I sit up and listen harder.

“The king and queen can afford to be generous,” Winter deadpans. “What of it?”

“We also know you’ve personally invested in a new project with some new writer and a little screenplay. Do you actually plan to make a film?”

“This is all none of your business.” Winter waves him off again. “These are my personal investments.”

“Doesn’t sound like a prince who’s looking for a bride to bring back to Denmark and take the crown, does it? Add that to the fact you’re canoodling with your PA for the world to see. This is a warning. Save your image and make our people feel comfortable with a prince willing to take a wife and settle down. Right now, they don’t trust you. According to our polls, they don’t even like you.”

My heart breaks for Winter as he stands there, head high, and takes this abuse.

“Is that all?” But he weathers it, keeps his cool and his composure.

“Yes, that is all.”

“See yourself out, Anker,” Winter says, his face neutral though we can all hear the anger in his voice. “And if you can’t make it out of town, don’t come back here. Sleep in your car, for all I care, you weasel.”

When they’ve left the room and I’ve found my voice, I manage, “Is that who’s been running your life? ”

He exhales, long and dejected. Then rearranges his face, as if he’s been dealing with this kind of torment for years.

“Did he say, you paid Allyn?—”

“I paid for services your company is well known for providing. If I padded the number a little, it’s only because I’d heard you once, saying the company was struggling.”

“So, it’s not all about getting back at me, tormenting me?”

“Ah, hell.” He smiles sheepishly and crosses his arms over his wide chest, “You’re Frannie’s sister. You’re going to be family in a way when John finally proposes. And you love your job, so much so, you’ve dedicated your life to it. I saw a way to help. To apologize for misinterpreting you. So, I did.”

“And Liam’s screenplay?”

“How did you know?” Now he’s caught red-handed, but he holds his stance and comes clean. “He’s a nice kid. He’s worked for Ben renting boats most summers, and I heard you were floating his screenplay to a few crew members. Ben and I made some inquiries, then some calls. Holiday tries new businesses like he tries on hats. That’s all.”

“You’re going to make a movie with your buddy?”

“Maybe. Or we’ll help him find the right partners. Money doesn’t create happiness, Cat, but it does open doors.”

“But you’re the bad guy!”

“Am I?”

“You let me believe you were. You’re making his dreams come true,” I breathe, seeing Winter Larsen morph before my eyes from my nemesis to the most selfless, generous, thoughtful man I’ve ever known.

“I’m sorry, too. About how I treated you before,” I blurt.

“Come on, Bloom. Let me find you something dry to wear.”

Before I can decide whether or not to follow him, there’s a clamoring of paws and I’m accosted by a furry bear.

“Lola, down!” A shaggy dog the size of a minicar jumps up and plants her paws on my chest. “Off,” he shouts again.

“She’s missed you,” Annie says, poking her head in. “Nibbles to get you through the night are on the counter. I’m off to the cottage before I can’t even leave on foot.”

“You want me to walk you?” Winter scratches his head. “I know it’s just by the barn, but still.”

“You stay put. If I can’t make it I’ll come back and bunk with you two.”

He looks stricken but tries to smile back at her and she laughs down the hallway until we hear the door snick shut.

Lola’s paws are knocking me off balance since I only have one leg to stand on and I try to plant my feet. I get a gigantic lick to the face. “Well, hi.”

“Now, she’s trying to warm you up.”

“By eating me?”

“Lola, come.” The dog immediately turns and runs for Winter. She plops her big bottom at his feet and looks up at him with the biggest, sweetest eyes. “This is my girl, Lola. She had a litter of puppies a few months ago and we’re weaning. She’s needy right now, aren’t you, girl?” He drops to a crouch and smothers the dog with kisses and cuddles. It’s disarming, knowing what I know about him now.

I shake my head to snap out of it, but I can’t not look at him. Lola licks his cheek and Winter turns to mush. He hugs, scratches, and kisses her all over.

His eyes cut to mine, but I don’t look away. I let myself take him in like this. His big hands, his full lips, his blue eyes, and how easy he is in his cozy home with his dog.

“Robbie’s not showing up anytime soon,” he says, watching me watch him with curiosity. “It’s just as well. I prefer giving Lola her dinner.”

I follow him to the kitche, Lola under our feet, and watch as he drops a scoop of dog food in a blue toile bowl and throws a few pieces of steak on top from a bag in the refrigerator. Lola wastes no time and gets right to it, tail wagging .

“You’re a good dog dad.” He gives me a shocked look in response to my unfiltered compliment. I shrug. “You’re sure no one’s coming for us?”

“It’s a tight road up the mountain, they can’t turn and head back down in a sleigh like you can on a horse. No way the van could make it on icy roads. I guarantee, they got through the pass, turned around at the lodge, and found they couldn’t get back down. This snow is intense and you don’t mess around with that while traveling through the pass.”

“It can’t be that bad outside, it just started coming down. Your team got out, it seems.”

“Thank fuck for that,” he says. “That’s why they parked at the top of the mountain. Like it or not—” The lights in the house blink, stutter like a sentence ending in ellipses, and then wink out. “I can’t take credit for making that happen, but it does punctuate my point nicely.” He pats Lola on the head before she curls up in a plaid dog bed by the kitchen door. “It’s you and me tonight. Don’t worry, a backup generator will kick in by morning.”

“Morning? We’ll freeze.”

“I’ll keep you warm, Bloom. If you’ll let me.”