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So, it’s a good thing that Prince Sigurd decided to take off because he wouldn’t be too fond of this vacation hygiene plan. Anyway, it saves us from an awkward conversation about my stolen bra.
Poor prince. He probably feels embarrassed that someone found out about his personal kinks. And he probably regrets coming here to ask for his tip money back after watching me nearly injure myself and drown. At least he was nice enough to fish my bra out of the lake and try to dry it for me. I won’t tell anyone he’s probably a panty stealer, and he won’t tell anyone I’m a ding-dong who barely knows how to swim and decided to vacation alone on a lake. There. Even-Steven.
I warm my hands in front of the fireplace and let my eyes wander to the wall of windows overlooking the lake.
“Holy shit!” My heart jumps into my throat when I see, silhouetted against the sunset, a bear skulking around the clearing.
I step closer to the window and take another look.
No… that’s not a bear. Those movements belong to a human.
Um…okay…I’ve got this…
Thinking quickly, I grab the fireplace poker and count to ten as I hype myself up.
I stand perfectly still, watching the man move back and forth from the edge of the clearing to the center. After another moment, I see sparks, then smoke.
Is the prowler building a campfire?
What the hell?
Maybe he’s not a prowler but a squatter.
Gods Almighty. I am doomed to never have this place to myself, aren’t I?
The next second, I throw open the screen door and begin shouting over the clatter of the wood frame banging hard against the exterior. “Leave now and I won’t call the police!”
“Stasi. It’s just me.”
I know that low, rumbly voice.
My heart rate slows, and my shoulders relax. Slowly, I drop the fireplace poker on the ground.
“Y-Your Highness? I thought you’d left. I didn’t see a car…”
He continues skulking around the yard, and I see that he’s hauling firewood from a small, covered structure at the far end of the clearing.
He doesn’t explain himself, doesn’t explain why he doesn’t have a car or a bike. He says nothing at all, just continues to stoke the fire.
I approach, still feeling the hesitancy around stumbling upon a predator in the wild.
“What are you doing out here?”
“Gonna be a cold night,” he says, pausing to watch the sparks surge skyward as his little fire grows.
“And that matters why?”
In the firelight, his eyes slide to me. The prince’s gaze rakes down to my bare feet, pausing momentarily on my exposed belly button. His jaw working under that mass of beard, he lifts those gray eyes to my breasts.
I should cover up because he’s not wrong. It’s a chilly night, and despite the growing fire, my nipples are on the large side and visible through my Hello Kitty crop top.
“It doesn’t. Just lighting a fire to keep warm.”
It seems to take every ounce of strength in him to stop looking at my tits. I cross my arms over them, trying to decipher what he means. Why would an outdoor fire matter when it’s toasty warm indoors?
Looking around at the ground, I see a sleeping mat has been laid out, as well as one of those cold-weather high-tech sleeping bags.
“Hey, Your Highness?”
