Page 23 of Tempted By the Princess

She didn’t need to say the rest. That once she went back to her real life I wouldn’t be in it. I knew it. I would have said it myself. I was too old for her. She wasn’t even thirty yet, she still had her whole life ahead of her, while I was facing down middle age. People grew and changed a lot in their thirties.

I was also too middle class for her. Lacking in the kind of pedigree that would make her parents think of me as a suitable partner. I wouldn’t know what fork to use at a fancy banquet, and I’d suck at making small talk during some state dinner. While I didn’t care about any of that, Genny’s parents would. And since Genny cared what her parents thought, no matter how much she pretended that she didn’t, eventually she’d reach the same conclusion. She and I didn’t fit. There was no future for us.

It made me want to extend our time as much as possible.

“Sure, stay as long as you want. We still have some episodes of Ride or Die to watch anyway.”

Genevieve

It wasn’t the most romantic proclamation, but Carrie was willing to let me stay, to let us explore this heat between us. I knew I was prolonging the inevitable showdown with my parents, but I couldn’t resist spending more time with her.

I stared into my coffee and tried to sort through my feelings. I’d already been half in love with Carrie before we had sex. Well, okay, that was a lie. I’d already been in love with her, there was no halfway about it. I’d never felt this way about anyone, but how could things possibly work out between us? It wouldn’t be fair of me to drag Carrie into my world, and she’d hate it anyway.

I could step back from my royal duties of course. I’d already been separating myself from that world a little more each year. It wasn’t that I needed to be a princess and go to parties for any ego-related reason, it was more about my sense of responsibility. I’d grown up privileged thanks to my country and my status in the royal family. It seemed selfish and ungrateful to throw it all back in people’s faces.

Maybe we could just date on the down low while I was in Seattle? I didn’t like the idea of keeping Carrie a secret, but for the most part I had anonymity here. Unless some overeager reporter started following me around, I could probably have a relationship with Carrie and keep it out of the public eye. If she wanted one.

“You look like you’re thinking awfully hard over there.” Carrie’s dry tone broke my reverie.

“Just spacing out,” I lied.

I could tell by the look she gave me that she didn’t believe that for a minute, but she let me off the hook.

“I’m going to take a shower,” she said. “It’s a beautiful day today and the weather is supposed to be perfect. How do you feel about going for a hike?”

“I’ve never been hiking.”

Carrie frowned. “It’s walking outside in nature, you haven’t done that?”

I shrugged. “I mean, I’ve walked in city parks before and stuff. But I haven’t gone anywhere… rugged.”

“Okay, that’s it. You cannot be a real Washingtonian if you don’t hike. It’s practically against the law in the Pacific Northwest.”

“Well, I hate to have the Nature Police coming for me,” I smirked.

“Great, we’re going hiking. I know the perfect place.”

***

Hiking was different than I expected. In the movies people wore cute clothes and were smiling and happy as they walked over neatly groomed trails and stared out at beautiful vistas. It looked fun and easy.

This was not fun and easy.

The scenery was definitely beautiful. But the trails were uneven, full of trip hazards, and muddy as hell from recent rain. The mud sucked at my borrowed shoes with every step, and I’d tripped over roots so many times that Carrie had taken to calling out ‘root!’ every time one appeared.

We reached an overlook and I practically wept with joy when Carrie suggested we take a break. We sat side by side on a big rock, staring out at a valley below us. We were high enough that it seemed like we were on top of the world. The valley reached out beneath us, mountains in the distance, while birds sang from within the tree canopy.

“I love coming up here,” Carrie said as she handed me half of her protein bar. “It’s beautiful.”

“It is,” I agreed. “How far did we hike?”

I’d pulled up the hem of my shirt to wipe off some of the sweat that was dripping down my face, so I thought I’d misheard her when she said, “Only about a mile and a half, maybe two.”

I pulled my shirt down and blinked at her. “We’ve been hiking for hours, and we went less than two miles?”

She smirked, then pressed a button on her watch. “Lemme look. We’ve gone one point eight miles in just about an hour.”

Damn, that was the hardest walk of my life. Then again, I couldn’t remember a time I’d walked two miles on flat land, so it probably shouldn’t be a surprise that walking two miles uphill through mud was difficult. I really needed to do more than go to pilates I guess. My cardio fitness sucked.