“And yet you ignored it.”
“Ignored? More like fled from it. Or endeavored to flee. My attraction to you, Highness, wasn’t simply obvious, it was unthinkable. It was doomed.”
She giggled. “And see how that turned out. I willed it into fruition.”
“Thank God.” He hitched his knee so their legs tangled beneath the covers.
“Absent your strong will,” he went on, “or, perhaps working in conjunction with it, we can do our part to nudge them in the correct direction. When I worked as royal fixer, my job was to determine the most expedient solution to any given problem, with the fewest extenuating circumstances, the fewest players—or, I should say witnesses—and the most binding results. They didn’t hire me for long, measured coercions that spanned years; I delivered results in a fortnight. This problem wants the same efficiency in my view. We’ve a tortured, exiled prince living like a lonely wild man in the forest and a spinster fiancée being stalked by an entitled coward. Their attraction is not only obvious, thus far it’s proven to be very motivating. He’s out of the forest. He’s consented to stay on at Mayapple. We must strike while the iron is hot.”
“How useful you are, Killian,” Elise breathed, delving her fingers into the whirl of hair on his chest.
“And you thought my only function was sex.” He closed his eyes, pressing his head into his linked hands. He could bask in her touch for eternity.
“Not youronlyfunction. Although I do seem to find myselfconstantlypregnant.”
“You love being pregnant.”
“I lovebecomingpregnant,” she corrected, “and I love my girls, but I do not relishbeingpregnant. No woman does.”
“I’ll bet Lady Ryan will. She has that look about her.”
“How could you possibly know this about her.”
“I’m trying to be clever and failing. Let me just say, she desires a family.”
“Fine. Has your fixer’s brain determined how we might facilitate their attraction?”
“The shortest, simplest route is to keep them close in proximity and working toward a common goal. This is the real reason I offered him a room in the stables. If I hadn’t, he would’ve returned to his camp and called once or twice more, monitoring Lady Ryan’s problem from afar. He’s been hunted and haunted and—understandably—he’s very easily spooked. Think of how long you allowed the British royal family to, for all practical purposes,hideyouaway? He’s still hiding; he’s not yet had a motivating event to embolden him. He’s getting very close, I’d say, but not yet.”
“She is the motivating event?”
“He seems very motivated to me.”
“And taking on our wretched cousin Maurice is their common goal?”
“Now you’re thinking like a fixer,” Killian said. “I have some additional ideas to encourage them; butI need to make some inquiries in London. I’ll send a messenger tomorrow. If you can summon your friend Sister Marie, she’ll be needed before this is all said and done—if nothing else, to find a priest to marry them.”
She looked up to him. “You’rethatcertain? We’re to the point of finding a priest?”
“Forgive me, I’ve yet to mention my secret weapon.”
She rolled against him. “Do tell.”
“Before I say it, I must secure a promise of gratitude from you. Because it’s a very potent and effective secret weapon. It’s practically guaranteed.”
She chuckled and pulled herself on top of him, sliding onto his chest and hips with a delicious little murmur. “And what, specifically, am I to be grateful for?”
“I’ve advised him to keep his handsoff. Off of her.”
“You what?” She pushed up on his chest.
“Trust me on this, Highness. Time-honored method of pushing lovers together: telling them they must, must, must—above all else—keep apart. It’s what I told myself when I fell in love with you. And see where that got me?”
But Elise was shaking her head. “I don’t know, Killian. Gabriel seems very earnest and cautious. What if he restricts himself based on this terrible advice; advice that you don’t even mean?”
“He won’t restrict himself,” breathed Killian. He unlinked his hands and slid them to her knees, tugging her legs on either side of him. “I’ve seen the way he looks at her. He’ll not be able to resist. And if he abides by my suggestion—if he’s perfectly able to keep his hands off of her—then we’ll know I’ve misjudged their situation. And we’ll leave it. An experienced solicitor can send your cousin packing with no harm done. Lady Ryan and your brother will go their separate ways. But I haven’t misjudged; I’d put money on it. Be patient. Pretend you don’t notice. Let’s keep them close and working together.
“In the meantime,” he rumbled, rising up to capture her mouth in a kiss, “about that gratitude...”
