The swedish prince Episode 26

🌹🌹The Swedish Prince 🌹🌹
🌸🌸(ROYAL r0m@nç£) 🌸🌸
🌹Chapter 26🌹
Maggie’s P.O.V💖
“That I do,” he says, standing up straighter as if he’s suddenly remembering his role in life. “And I’m afraid I’m not here for long.”
I know I expected him to say that but there was a teensy-weensy p@rt of me that hoped he’d counter what I said in my thoughts (“Actually I am here for good. I abdicated, scre-w the throne, I want to live in Tehachapi.”)
nee-dless to say, there’s a cold pinch in my che-st.
“I’ve been re-ading about you,” she says, “and I admit I’m surprised to see you here with no guards or anything. I thought you had to have secret police with you at all times.”
“I do,” he says.
“What?” I immediately start looking around the bar.
He nods at one gentleman at the bar, then another pla-ying pool and one smoking a cigarette just outside the main doors. “They’re with me.”
I watch to see the guy at the bar glance over his shoulder at us.
I expect Viktor to wave at him and say “hey, we see you” or something but Viktor’s face remains impas-sive and he pretends not to notice him. No jokes. He’s alre-ady changed, alre-ady been trained.
What have I missed these past months?
So much.
“Wow,” Annette says. “So I guess I shouldn’t go hit on them and find my own Swedish hunk.”
“No,” Viktor says, giving her a small smile. “They’ve all been trained by the Swedish Security Service to be as boring and efficient as possible.”
“Efficient gets the job done though, doesn’t it?”
I reach out and sma-ck Annette. “Hey, what about your Dude?”
“When you’re older, you’ll realize you should never pas-s up opportunities,” she says with a sigh. Then she looks between the two of us. “Well I think I’m going to head back to Bakersfield now that you two have found each other. p@rty is over. Are you going to be okay here or do you nee-d a ride back to your house? Unless you’re staying at the La Quinta again, Viktor?”
“We have a ride,” Viktor answers for me. “There’s another efficient man in the town car waiting outside. Try not to terrorize him on your way out.”
Annette breaks out into laugher and sl@ps him on the shoulder. “I can see why Maggie is so head over heels in love with you. You have my blessings.” She waves at me before she leaves. “See you, kiddo.”
She obviously doesn’t see the look of absolute horror on my face.
The fact that I want the floor to open up and swallow me whole.
She just let the cat out of the fv¢king bag and that cat is running around us like crazy.
Viktor is staring at me intently and I know, I know he heard what she said.
Maggie is so head over heels in love with you.
I want to die.
I want to kill her.
I want to kill her and then die.
“She seems nice,” Viktor says with a sm-irk and oh my god is he just going to pretend like he didn’t hear it, like nothing happened?
I’m not sure if that’s good or bad.
I clear my throat. “Yeah I want to kill her. I mean, she’s a good egg.”
“A good egg?” He looks adorably puzzled.
“She’s…fine.” I look around the bar because my cheeks are flaring up and ugh everything seems so awkward suddenly.
“Are you re-ady to go?” he asks. “I paid your bill as well, so we can just leave.”
“Viktor,” I tell him. “You—”
“Shouldn’t have? Yes, well I did. And yes, I ti-pped them well. That poor bartender, I’m as-suming she’s the one who had to deal with me before? I can’t quite remember.”
I nod, and he gr-abs my hand.
“Where should we go to be alone?”
* * * *
* * * *
The efficient Swedish secret service agent-turned-driver’s name is Nick.
I’m sure when I got into the back of the black car with Viktor, that he didn’t expect me to strike up a conversation with Nick but as the car weaved throu-gh the streets heading toward my house, I not only learned that he has twin daughters the same age as Rosemary and Thyme back home (for the life of me I couldn’t pronounce their names), but that this is his first time ever visiting America. I told him to at least go to Santa Monica and ditch Viktor for a day, but Viktor didn’t seem too happy about that.
In fact, on the ride back, Viktor’s demeanor grew tense and when I looked over at him, there were more shadows un-der his cheekbones, a grayness un-der his eyes. He looked worn out and I wondered if he had literally just landed–in LA?–and come straight here.
All I do know is that he didn’t book a h0tel room in town, which was fine since I wouldn’t have been able to stay overnight with him anyway. Some things may have changed for me and with selling his car, I’ve been able to have more of a safety net, but I’m still in charge of my brothers and sisters and still have responsibilities, even if I feel like I’ve grown into them a bit more.
And honestly, a few hours with Viktor in a h0tel room would not be enough, I don’t care how wild the S-x is (because it would be wild, right? Viktor doesn’t do tame).
I want him with me the entire night. I want him in my be-d at home. I want him to wake up and look at the same walls I look at every morning, the walls I’ve always looked at. I want to be in his arms and feel safe where I live. I want him to become a p@rt of this life.
But I’d settle for being a tiny fraction of his.
Nick pu-lls the car up on the street and cuts the engine.
“Thanks for the ride,” I tell him.
He gives me a stern look in the rearview mirror. That’s just his face though, stern, with a nose like vulture’s beak. Would be terrifying if I didn’t know that his daughters are obsessed with Harry Styles and so now he is too and can sing every lyric to his latest albu-m.
“He’s not going anywhere,” Viktor says to me. “It’s his job to stay here and watch me all night.”
Nick nods in response.
I stare at Viktor with wi-de eyes. “He’s going to watch us all night?”
Nick clears his throat loudly and I swear he blus-hes. “I’ll be in the car, Miss McPherson. Don’t worry.”
We get out of the car and head toward the house. I glance up at Viktor. “I can’t believe these people follow you everywhere. That must get annoying.”
“You get used to it,” he says in a rather grim voice.
“Must make you appreciate all that freedom you had the last time you were here, huh?”
His eyes take a sad slant. “Yes. It does.”
Being after eleven at night, everyone in the house should be asleep except for Pike but his light isn’t on and I’m not going to test whether he’s home or not. I carefully unlock and open the door and gr-ab Viktor’s hand, quietly leading him throu-gh the house.
It’s funny, I have every right to bring a man home to my room, but Viktor will be the first one since I c@m£ back. Sometimes it feels like my siblings are parenting me instead of the other way around or maybe that’s just what being a parent is all about. You’re both trying not to scre-w up and get caught.
I open the door to my room and usher him inside. He’s seen it before in pas-sing during the times he’s been over, but not like this.
His eyes immediately travel to my armchair in the corner where Viktor the moose sits un-derneath a framed ph0to of my Orgasmic Splash Mountain ride.
I start to explain that it’s my shrine to him, but he quic-kly closes the door behind us and k!sses me.
Hisl-ips and ton-gue strike a fire against mine.
His hands disappear into my hair, down my back, over my che-st, down my sides.
My hands hook up onto his shoulders.
My b©dy presses against his.
In moments we are engulfed in this flame that seems to take over the whole room and it singes my lungs and the only thing I nee-d more than water is him. I thirst for him like nothing else.
We grope and fumble and li-ck and bite, standing right there by the door, clothes r!pp£doff and discarded until we’re n-ked and I’m re-ady for him to take me right there on the floor.
Instead he takes me by the hand and leads me to my be-d, acting so confident and self-as-sured. I feel all my nerves and hang-ups melt away. Though he may be dominant and rou-gh sometimes in the be-droom, I always feel safe with him and even though the last few months have created some distance, I know this is the way we’ll come back together.
He pu-lls back the sheets and blankets that I had hastily made earlier that day and I crawl inside. I know I should probably take more care in ma-king my be-d, being a housekeeper for a living and all, but half the time here I’m just like fv¢k it.
“What are you thinking about?” he whispers as he crawls in the be-d after me, his firm n-ked b©dy sliding in against mine. “Your thinking S-xy face is back and right now I don’t want you thinking about anything but me.” He pauses, reaches down and gives his d!¢k a long stro-ke. “Or my d!¢k. It’s so very fv¢king ha-rd .”
Well, that’s definitely the fastest way to get out of my head.
I stare at it for a second, feeling the de-sire sweep throu-gh me, feeling like I’m both in my b©dy and out of it, one moment everything is normal, the next Viktor is here and he’s n-ked with me in this be-d and he’s whispering dirty things to me, stro-king that big d!¢k of his and…
“Think of me,” he murmurs, and I can’t find the words to tell him that I am. “Think of everything I’m going to do you tonight. It’s been so fv¢king long, mitt persika. My sweet little peach. I want to taste you again and again. I want to make up for all the lost time.”
He positions himself so he’s lying on t©p of me, his warm che-st pressed against mine, his elbows planted on either side of my head. He peers down at me in such a way it unnerves me, hitting me to the meat of my bones. His eyes are kind, curious, and filled with a de-ep longing I can feel pu-ll at me. But there’s something new to them I’ve never seen before. A flash of fear. The same fear I saw in the car on the ride over here, his tense demeanor outside of the house.
“What is it?” I whisper while he runs his f!nger down the side of my face, over my cheekbone, down to myl-ips. He ru-bs his f!nger over them and then opens my mouth, sliding a f!nger inside.
Instinctively, I svçkon it and he closes his eyes, letting out a low m0@n . “This sweet soft mouth.”
Then a faint smile crosses hisl-ips, and though the fear in his eyes doesn’t waver, it softens it.
“Maggie.” His voice is rou-gh, low, coarse. It brings out a flurry of goosebu-mps all over my ba-re skin.
“Come back with me.”
My heart slows down.
I blink at him. “To…LA?”
“To Sweden,” he says. His f!ngerscontinue to trail across my face and his eyes go to where his f!ngersgo, coasting over the rest of my face, taking in every detail. Now I’m as fearful as he is.
He li-cks hisl-ips, his jaw wiggling as if he’s trying to find the words. “I told you I would come back for you. And here I am. I know this is last minute.” I would laugh at what an un-derstatement that is, but my heart is beating so ha-rd I don’t think I can even move.
“I know you may nee-d time. But I couldn’t wait. I don’t have many opportunities to get up and leave and I took the first one I got. I have to go back tomorrow. I only c@m£ to ask you in person.”
Tears rush to my eyes. Tears of sorrow because I’ll have to say no, tears of frustration because I wish he had given me warning, because maybe then I could have said yes.
“I can’t,” I sob, trying to stay quiet. “You know I can’t.”
“plea-se tell me why.”
“Why?” I ask incredulous. “Why?!”
“Maggie.” He exhales, his breath shaking as he stares back into my eyes, searching, searching. “Do you know what it means when I call you mitt liv, mitt allt? Mitt äiskling?”
A lump forms in my throat and the air around us thickens.
“What?” I whisper after a beat.
I’ve translated it.
I know.
But I want to hear him say it in my language.
Maybe then I’ll finally believe it.
“It means, you are my life and you are my everything and you are my love,” he says gently. “You have shaken me to my very soul, rattled the bars around my heart, and I am yours, Maggie, I am yours.”
Dear god.
I want to cry again. The emotion is building in my che-st, squee-zing ti-ght. Heat prickles in my head, tempting the tears, while my heart dissolves into stardust.
Viktor just said he loves me.
I’ve never felt so free and joyous, both uncontained and grounded. His words, his words, his words. They tumble inside me over and over again until I’m smiling, tasting my tears, and…
God. I want to go with him.
It can’t just end like this.
“I love you too,” I tell him, my voice shaking. “I didn’t have a choice. All this time I thought it would go away, that I could blame what I felt for you on something else, that I didn’t know you enough to love you. But look at you. You’re Viktor. To know you is to love you.”
“I think that’s from a song,” he says softly, but he’s smiling.
“I think when you’re in love, everything is a song.”
“Then let’s pl@ya wilder tune.”
One of his hands disappears into my hair, the other trails up the inside of my leg, soft and teasing, inch by inch over my s-en-sitive skin. Adrenaline from his words is pumping throu-gh me and I’m alre-ady shivering at his t©uçh, craving him more than I ever have before.
I am yours, Maggie, I am yours.
And I am his, I am his.
No matter what happens to us, I am his.
He keeps his eyes on mine, burning with new lvst that seems to be struck from a match, blue flames in the darkness, and I’m so turned on alre-ady that I’m we-t to my th!ghs. Suddenly I nee-d him inside me more than I can bear.
“Mitt persika,” Viktor says throu-gh a gr0@nas his hand sli-ps down, his f!ngersfinding my cl!t. I let out a small, anxious g@sp as he teases it, his eyes never breaking from mine. “Come back with me.”
Even if I could, it would take br@in power to sort it out, br@in power I don’t have right now. My mind is shutting down, my b©dy coming to life.
“Don’t think,” he says gruffly as he gr-abs my h!ps and p@rts my legs. “Say yes in other ways.” He reaches for his c0ckand runs the head of it up and down my cl!t, pausing to di-p it briefly inside before bringing it back up. The sound is so loud in this room, so we-t, I worry for a moment that it can be heard outside these walls.
My eyes close, and I surrender myself to this torturous tease. He’s not pushing in—it’s just a slow slide, back and forth, but I feel myself opening for him anyway, my b©dy hungry at first, then becoming wildly desperate for more. I’m both languid and tense, surrendering and spurring him on as he ru-bs against me over and over again.
“Come back with me,” he says again, his voice growing even rou-gher, like my silence is ma-king him angry. “I’m not leaving without you.”
“Viktor,” I whisper, unable to st©p from squirming. I nee-d him inside me. It’s not just about getting off now, it’s about feeling achingly empty and incomplete without him. It’s another way to keep the fear at bay. The fear that he’s leaving. The fear I might say yes.
God, could I say yes this time?
I swallow ha-rd , ma-king a noise that’s nothing short of begging. My heart is starting to sound in my head, my skin is h0t and ti-ght, my n!ppl!s are ha-rd ened pebbles as the sheet brushes against them. I’m going crazy and I can’t handle the teasing anymore. “I want you inside me. I nee-d it. Now. plea-se.”
“Tell me you’ll come back with me.”
“I’ll come with you, here and now in this be-d,” I counter.
That seems to satisfy him. He’s as feverish and worked up as I am.
With a slow exhale, not breaking eye contact, he leans on his elbows and pushes himself in.
Torturously slow.
My head rolls to the side and I g@sp, my hands gripping the sheets because I can feel every stiff inch of him spre-ading me wi-de, ma-king me feel so fv¢king full I don’t know how I lived without him inside me.
He murmurs something in Swedish and starts to pick up the pace, his f!ngersbecome rou-gher as they grip and pinch my skin, holding me like he can’t ever let go.
“Am I hurting you?” he asks, gro-an ing throu-gh the words.
“No,” I say, l!çk!ng myl-ips. I look at him, caught in the heated vibr@ncy of his stare. “But you can if you want.”
He nods and watches me intently as he thrû-sts in sharply. Hisl-ips p@rt as he su-cks in his breath, and his forehead creases in lvst and awe, like he can’t believe this is happening, can’t believe how good it feels, how we’re together again.
“Perhaps that is suited for another night, when we have more privacy.”
He means so that the both of us can be loud. We must have gotten noise complaints at the Roosevelt h0tel.
“Persika,” he m0@n s, his hands sliding to my brea-sts where he pinches my ha-rd ened n!ppl!s. “So fv¢king sweet, you feel so fv¢king good. Tell me you’re mine, I nee-d to hear it.”
“I’m yours, Viktor, I’m yours.”
He’s watching me, watching himself where his d!¢k sinks into me, his shaft we-t with my de-sire. He’s entranced by the sight, the slow push in, the slow pu-ll out.
So good. God, this is so, so good.
Oh…god, yes. Just like that.
Each rock of my h!ps, each roll of his, pushes him in dee-per, makes us connect like magnets. The way his abs clench as he pushes inside, the tiny beads of sweat that gather in the creases, the dampness of his brow. I reach around and tug his firm as-s toward me, wanting more, and he drives in so de-ep that the air leaves my lungs.
“Viktor,” I g@sp, feeling the emotions swirl inside me, a whirlpool that I know will overtake me again before this is over. My head drops back, my eyes closing in shock as I surrender. He’s in me, in so de-ep, and I don’t ever want him to leave. This feels beyond right.
I can’t let him leave.
I won’t.
This man belongs with me.
The thought sets off something de-ep inside, a fire in my core that’s slowly increasing, spre-ading, heating up. It’s going to take over, it’s going to pu-ll me un-der, and I’ve never wanted to come so badly in my life.
“dee-per,” I whisper, my voice choked with my sudden nee-d for him. “ha-rder. fv¢k me ha-rder. Make me come.”
His eyes nearly roll back in his head at that and he responds instantly.
With a throaty growl he starts thrû-sting dee-per, one hand in my hair, ma-king a fist. He leans down, pressing his damp che-st against mine, and k!sses me, quic-k and h0t, tasting like sweat. My mouth is ravenous against his, the nee-d inside me building and building.
And then we find our rhythm, our bodies coming together in synchronicity. He’s pumping into me, working himself into a frenzy and I know we’re no longer being quiet anymore.
I no longer care.
This is my prince.
Right now, he’s my king.
The muscles in his n£¢k are strained as the sweat rolls off of him, and his eyes are lost in a fiery haze, his pupils so dark and nearly covering all the blue. He reminds me of a wild animal caught in the middle of the jungle, re-ady to attack, and the sounds coming out of his mouth are equally as raw and primal.
The be-d creaks, shuffling on the floor with each savage pump and I’m so glad there’s no one below us. The whirlpool of fire inside me is now at a roar and I can’t hold on.
“I’m coming,” I cry out, my voice raw and raspy and drowning with de-sire, trying to hold his gaze. He holds mine back, his eyes watching in torrid fascination.
Then I’m twisting as the Orgasm washes over me. My b©dy jo-lts and shudders and I’m high above this world, fading into the stars, into the black. Only warmth and joy remain as I’m washed up on a far-off shore, pushing all sadness away.
“Helvete,” Viktor gr-unts, pu-lling me out of the haze as he delves into a string of Swedish expletives. His growling, animalistic noises, the sl@p of his sweat-soa-ked skin against mine, the creak of the be-d, all fill the air.
Then he chokes on a long, raw m0@n that he desperately tries to tone down, his shoulders shaking as he comes.
The pumping slows.
His grip in my hair loos-en-s.
He coll@pses against me, his hair damp and sticking to his brow. His eyes take me in, his breath heavy and ha-rd .
“Maggie,” he manages to say after a minute, his voice raw. He’s still inside me and I’m still pulsing around him, the torrent inside me slowing. “I moose ask you a question.”
I’m so taken aback by the joke that it takes me a moment before I let out a quiet laugh.
“But I am serious,” he says, his hand going to my face as he searches my eyes. “Come back with me. plea-se.”
“You know I can’t.”
“No,” he says with a shake of his head, a drop of sweat beading off the ti-p of his nose. “You don’t know that you can.”
He then pauses, taking in a de-ep breath.
“Hear me out.”
* * *
* * *
“Gather around everyone,” Pike yells as Viktor and I hover nervously behind him in the back of the kitchen. “Family meeting!”
I glance up at Viktor and he squee-zes my hand in return.
“There’s no cow on the ice,” he says.
I’m not sure about that one.
Viktor and I stayed up very late last night. It wasn’t just that we made love three times (although that was a factor), it was that he had a plan for me.
Me and my brothers and sisters.
At first it all sounded a little too simple. A little too good to be true. Then the more I thought about it, the more complicated and impossible it bec@m£.
So right now, we’re just winging it, throwing $h!t against the wall and seeing what sticks.
It’s Saturday, so luckily I’m not working and the kids are all at home. When we got up this morning, the first thing I did was go to Pike’s room and have a talk with him, telling him our plan. He’s a big p@rt of it and I nee-ded to prepare him, nee-ded him on my team.
He wasn’t overjoyed with the idea at first since it means some extra work on his behalf. But he’s a good brother and knows how much Viktor and I care about each other. At least he knows that now. Also, this whole thing benefits him as well.
The only thing we left out was the whole prince thing.
That will come.
Callum is the first to come barrelling down the stairs in his pajamas.
“Pancakes, are we having pancakes? Are we…”
He trails off and st©ps dead in his tracks when he sees Viktor standing there.
“The Swedish Chef!” he yells, pointing. “Herdy schmerdy bork bork!”
“Yes, herdy schmerdy bork bork is back,” Viktor says, ma-king his accent thicker to match the Chef’s. “Nice to see you, little buddy.”
“Are you ma-king us pancakes?!” He’s practically screaming.
“Callum, calm down.”
“Perhaps,” Viktor says and then looks over his shoulder out the window where the Town Car is parked. He whispers to me. “If I do I should bring some for Janne outside.”
“What happened to Nick?”
“They have shifts.”
“What are you guys whispering about?” Callum asks, and now Pike is looking out the window at the car with suspicion.
He raises a brow at me and I make the motion that I’ll explain in a bit.
“What’s going on?” Rosemary says throu-gh a yawn as she shuffles into the kitchen, followed by Thyme. They pause before sitting down at the table, looking in unison at Viktor. “What are you doing here?” they ask.
“I’ll explain in a minute,” Pike says. “Where is April? She is home right?”
“I’m coming,” April snaps from the stairway, appearing in the kitchen completely disheveled. She’s the only one who doesn’t seem surprised to see Viktor. Then I remember she saw him last night and told him where I was.
Then I remember she shares a wall with me.
I wince and look away, avoiding her glare as she goes over to the coffee pot and starts ma-king some. Fourteen seems young for a caffeine add!çtion but I have to pick and choose my battles in this house.
“Okay,” Pike says and then points at me. “Maggie has some exciting news to share.”
And just like that it’s all on me.
“Right,” I say and Viktor squee-zes my hand ha-rder. “Okay, here’s the thing. There are going to be some changes happening but they’re all fun changes, okay?”
“Are we getting a new dog?” Callum asks.
I wince again. “No. Not that.”
“What about a hamster?”
“Bearded dragons are really cool,” Thyme says.
“No, we aren’t getting any pets. Listen. Here’s what’s going to happen.” I take in a de-ep breath. “I’m going to Sweden for a few weeks.”
Everyone just stares at me for a beat.
“Like a vacation?” Thyme asks.
“Yes, like a vacation. To be with Viktor in Stockholm.”
“Who will take care of us?” Callum asks.
“I will,” Pike says. “With Rosemary and Thyme’s help of course.”
They both nod eagerly. They’ve been waiting for the responsibility, always bringing up the fact that Mallory in the Babysitter’s Club was eleven when she started babysitting.
“Then,” I add, drawing out the word, “it’s Christmas break. Which means all of you are flying over to Sweden for the holidays.”
“Christmas in Sweden!” I try and sound more enthusiastic.
Blink blink. No one even breathes.
“What if we don’t want to go to Sweden?” April asks with a scowl. I knew I could count on her to say something.
“Then it’s too bad because we’re all going,” I tell her. “And I promise you guys will love it. I promise.”
Callum slowly nods, tapping his f!ngersagainst his chin. “I suppose it will do.” Pause. Bright smile. “Can I meet ABBA?”
I have a feeling Callum thinks ABBA is one person.
“Maybe,” Viktor says.
I punch his arm. “Don’t tease him, he’ll hold you to it.”
“And ABBA knows my mother, I’m pretty sure I could arrange it.”
“ABBA knows your mother?” Pike asks.
“Well, yes,” Viktor says. “Everyone knows my mother.”
Here it goes.
“Why, is she famous?” Callum asks.
Viktor looks at him and nods. “Yes.”
“Why, who is she?” April says, sounding more curious than snarky now.
“She’s the queen of Sweden,” he says with a shrug.
“Shut up,” Rosemary says. “Your mother is not the queen of Sweden.”
“She is. My father is the king.”
“Phhhfff,” April says, turning her back to us. “Yeah right. We might be Americans but we ain’t dumb.”
“That would make you a prince,” Thyme says.
“I know,” he says. “I am.”
“Shut up,” Rosemary says again.
“Rosemary, st©p telling the Prince of Sweden to shut up,” I tell her.
“Pike, tell them to st©p lying,” April says.
I look at Pike. His brows are drawn together as he looks out the window, de-ep in thought. He finally looks at us. “The car that’s out there. Friend of yours?”
“That’s Janne,” Viktor says. “He’s as-signed to protect me.”
“Protect you!” Rosemary exclaims.
“Really?” Thyme says.
Viktor nods. “I’m not joking.”
“Bull$h!t,” April says. “As soon as this coffee is done, I’m going upstairs and not listening to your nons-en-se anymore. And I’m not going to Sweden.”
“But you would get to live in a palace and meet the king and queen,” Viktor says. “All your de-sires would be taken care of.”
“You’re a liar.”
“No,” Pike says, looking down at his phone. “He’s not.” He lifts his phone for everyone to see. It’s the Google Images page of Viktor.
All chairs are pushed back at once, the scr@p£ of them filling the kitchen as Callum, Rosemary and Thyme run over to Pike to get a better look.
They look down at the screen.
Look up at Viktor.
Look down at the screen.
Look up at Viktor.
“Holy cra-p,” Rosemary and Thyme say together.
“Holy cra-p!” Callum yells.
“Yeah. Holy…” Pike trails off. “I can’t believe you kept this a secret.”
I shrug. “It wasn’t my place to say.”
“I don’t like lying,” Viktor says. “But I had to last time. It would have been a security risk if anyone had known it was me.” He looks at Callum. “I am still a good cook though. That wasn’t a fluke.”
And now April slowly comes over to Pike and takes the phone from him. She glances at the screen, doesn’t say anything and gives the phone back. “Can we seriously stay at the palace?” she asks Viktor.
“I don’t see why not,” he says. He looks around the room. “So what do you all say? Christmas in Sweden?”
Everyone exchanges excited glances and then yells, “Christmas in Sweden!”
* * * *
* * * *
A week flies by in a blink.
One minute I’m working my as-s off with extra shifts, trying to get the house in order for Pike to make this job as easy on him as possible, the next I’m boarding the plane for Stockholm, Sweden.
First clas-s!
I even have my own be-d and everything. It’s almost nicer than the be-d I have at home. I even have my own butler, just like Viktor does.
Okay, so the first-clas-s flight attendants aren’t servants but they do bring you champagne and whatever else you ask for even before the flight takes off.
There is a sharp twang of guilt that I’m doing this while the kids are slaving away at school, but the guilt disappears when I realize they’ll be doing the same thing, albeit in coach, in two weeks from now.
Until then, I’m going to be alone with Viktor in Sweden.
🌸T. B. C🌸