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Thorne Princess(62)

Author:L.J. Shen

Ransom was sitting across the garden on an antique white bench, casually conversing with a man I was pretty sure was from the CIA. I still couldn’t believe I’d made this man break one of his rules and have sex with me. Kiss me. A powerful buzz shot through me.

“Hello, all.” I smiled to the audience, peppering the gesture with a little wave. “Truth is, I’ve had a whole speech prepared and memorized for the occasion, but of course, me being me, now that it’s time to say something, I’m going to take a page out of my eyeliner’s book and just wing it.”

Chuckles erupted from across the table, accompanied by light claps.

I turned to look at Hera, whose tight smile collapsed like a poorly-constructed LEGO tower.

“Hera and Craig, Craig and Hera.” I sighed, knowing how stressed out my sister must be. “So perfectly matched, I couldn’t come up with a more fitting couple even if I tried.”

So far, not even one lie, and a very minimal dose of passive-aggressiveness. I was sure the unhappy couple could read between the lines. My hand shook slightly while clasping the champagne glass when I felt Craig’s eyes burning a hole through my cheek. My gaze stumbled to Ransom on instinct. He gave me a curt nod.

Continue. You are standing up for yourself. Fuck them.

“Hera is a woman of many facets. Daughter, sister, doctor, fiancée, a philanthropist. Craig is…you know, Craig.” I hitched one shoulder up. Everyone laughed, well-aware he was not as decorated and celebrated as my sister. “Some of you may wonder—how does a couple stay together for so long? Fifteen years and counting. People are dynamic. They change, evolve. Well, not these two!” I toasted the champagne glass in the air. “Craig and Hera have stayed exactly the same as they were when they first met. Which is why their relationship works.”

Hera shifted uneasily. Craig wrapped an arm over the back of her chair, shooting my dad an unreadable glare. Maybe he hoped Dad would cut me off. Surprisingly, he didn’t.

“Now, moving on to Craig, my new brother-in-law!” I said cheerfully. “Good ol’ Craig. You think you know him, but trust me, this one is full of surprises.”

Craig flashed a painful smile, nodding along, as if we were good friends. The silence blanketing the tables told me people were starting to catch up on the fact that I wasn’t being necessarily straightforward. I needed to wrap this up quickly.

“When I first saw these two together, I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that they were truly meant for each other. I believe that’s still the case. Identical dreams and aspirations, not to mention moral compasses, make these two so right for one another. While it is true that I don’t spend much time with them, I can honestly say, every time we are in the same room, it feels like I’ve never left. They sure know how to create an atmosphere.”

Albeit a shitty one.

“Hera and Craig, I wish you a long, continuous marriage, full of headstrong children who mirror you in every way. To Hera and Craig, everybody.” I lifted the glass in the air.

People cheered, clinked their glasses, and drank. I slanted my gaze to my sister and her husband. They both stared at me vacantly, pale and shell-shocked.

“I improvised.” I smiled sweetly at them. “You don’t mind now, do you?”

When the wedding was over, Ransom tucked me in one of the limos heading back to my parents’ mansion. He sat in the corner opposite from me. I raised the partition between us and the driver as soon as we slipped inside, turning to face him.

“You survived,” he observed, flicking cigar ash from the dash of his blazer.

“Trust me, I’m as shocked as you are.” I was so glad we were alone now. He was beginning to feel more and more like home.

“I’m not shocked. You never give yourself any credit.”

“Ransom?”

“That’s my name.”

“I’m going to Los Angeles tomorrow,” I stated, rather than asked, not leaving him much room to object.

He stared at me dispassionately, mulling this over. “Give me a few days.” This time he asked, not stated.

“No.” I erected my spine, taking a deep breath. “I gave you plenty of time. Los Angeles is not going to become safer in the next day or two. I find Texas triggering. I want to put some distance between myself and Hera and Craig. Surely, you can understand that.”

He did. I knew he did, because he rubbed his knuckles against his sharp jaw, hissing in frustration.

“L.A.’s a den of vipers,” he said quietly.

“To me, Texas is worse.”

“Don’t you have friends in New York?” he inquired. “Someone you could visit?”

I smiled, appreciating that he wasn’t fighting me on this. “I don’t have friends anywhere, remember?”

“That’s not true.” He pressed his lips into a hard line. “Now, you have at least one.”

My heart soared in my chest. We shared conspiratorial grins. This was my chance to talk to him about what had happened between us yesterday. About our night of passion. But there was something so perfect about this moment, the tranquility of it, I didn’t want to ruin it.

Tomorrow, I told myself. Today, you faced the wedding. One battle at a time.

“Proud of you, Princess Thorne.”

“What happened to Brat?” I quirked an eyebrow.

Ransom shook his head. “Hera snatched that title five minutes into our first encounter.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Thief.”

My parents’ Ford Escape Hybrid pulled onto the tarmac of the small, private airport next to their airplane. I shuddered at the thought of the carbon footprint, but this was Ransom’s ultimatum if I wanted to go back to Los Angeles.

He was adamant about not passing through LAX.

Mom got out of the passenger seat, rounding the car to hug me.

“Thanks for coming, Bunny. I know you prefer shorter visits, and I appreciate the time you’ve made for us.” She winced. Well, at least she didn’t chide me for that wedding speech. “You pulled through wonderfully.”

“Yes, Sugar Pie. We hope you’ll grace us again with your presence this Thanksgiving.” Dad joined us, as Ransom pulled our suitcases out of the trunk.

No chance in hell they were seeing my face before next year.

I smiled tightly, giving them each a swift hug before inching toward the stairway of the plane. “Thanks for the hospitality. We’ll…talk.”

Maybe.

On the plane, it was only Ransom, one flight attendant, the pilot, and me.

“Where’s Max?” I buckled my seatbelt as we got ready for takeoff.

“Already in L.A.”

“How come?”

“Put him on a paid leave.”

“Why?”

“He wasn’t needed.”

“Sounds like code for wanting the coast clear,” I teased, smiling.

The flight attendant came to sit next to us, buckling in, too.

Ransom smiled warmly at me. “Get your ears checked, Princess.”

I decided not to press the subject. After all, we weren’t alone. Also, I didn’t necessarily want to know what Ransom thought about the night we’d shared at my parents’ house. A rejection would crush me. Not knowing where I stood was just as hard, but I prolonged the conversation as long as I could.

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