deep down, she’d never let me be her pillow if she were awake.
I try to push that thought away, pretend she’s leaning against me on purpose. Pretend she’s sitting next to me on this plane by choice and not because Mum assigned her this seat. But my gut knows perfectly well that if it were up to her, she’d be one row back.
With him.
But that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy having her head on my shoulder for as long as it lasts.
I wake up a couple of hours later and pleasure lances through me when I discover M is still snuggled against me. I smile down at her for a long moment, then look past her out the window, where the sun is just rising…over Ireland!
Much as I don’t want to wake her, I don’t want M to miss her first sight of Ireland even more. Gently, I touch her arm, the one that’s not pressed against me, then shake her just a little. She stirs, then opens those amazing green eyes, looking adorably confused. But then she wakes up for real—and immediately pulls away from me, obviously embarrassed.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” She struggles to sit upright. “I didn’t—”
I grin down at her. “No, it’s fine. I hated to wake you, you looked so peaceful, but…look out the window.”
She does, and gasps. Because Ireland is spread below us in every conceivable shade of green, dotted with lakes and crisscrossed by roads that are getting bigger and bigger as we start to descend.
“Wow, no wonder they call it the Emerald Isle. It’s beautiful!”
I’m grinning again, drinking in her pleasure and sharing it. “Isn’t it? I knew you’d like it. And I promise, you’ll like our, uh, final destination even more.”
I keep an eye on those two disloyal Royals as we go through Immigration. They’re near the front of the long non-E.U. passport line, which means they must have come to Earth via Montana instead of Ireland. Unfortunately, M and Rigel have to wait in that line, too, while the rest of us breeze through the E.U. line.
“Guess we’d better go find our bags,” Dad says. “Anyone want to wait here for the others?”
I volunteer, since I’m watching M like a hawk anyway. She and Rigel are standing way too close to each other, in my opinion, even if those Royal Echtrans are already through and gone. They’re not all lovey-dovey like when I first got to Jewel last fall, but they still act more like a couple than a Bodyguard and the person he’s protecting.
The way they look at each other, smile at each other, sometimes it’s like they can communicate without words, they’re so tuned in to each other. Even in the middle of conversations with other people. Impossible, of course, bond or no bond. Just me being paranoid again. I still don’t like it.
Finally they’re through and we all head to where Mum, Dad and Molly are waiting with our luggage. Customs is quick, then we go pick up our rental, an SUV big enough for all six of us. I don’t see those Royals again. Probably had a limo waiting.
I get to sit next to M in the car, since there’s no knowing what Echtrans might be on the roads. It’s obvious she and Stuart don’t like being split up, but that’s tough, since the point is to get her Acclaimed Sovereign ASAP. Unfortunately this car has separate seats in the middle, so she doesn’t even have to try to keep from touching me. Still, if I concentrate, I can feel a hint of that tingle from her—which means she must feel it, too.
“Don’t let me miss any castles, okay?” M’s staring out her window.
“You know I won’t,” I promise. “Hey, Mum, how come we didn’t fly into Shannon? Isn’t Dublin a lot farther?”
“It is, but between no nonstop flights to Shannon and this new highway, this was the faster option.”
“So we’re driving all the way across Ireland?” M sounds surprised. “Bailerealta’s on the west coast, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but it should only take four or five hours,” Dad says.
“Oh, I don’t mind.” She
I try to push that thought away, pretend she’s leaning against me on purpose. Pretend she’s sitting next to me on this plane by choice and not because Mum assigned her this seat. But my gut knows perfectly well that if it were up to her, she’d be one row back.
With him.
But that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy having her head on my shoulder for as long as it lasts.
I wake up a couple of hours later and pleasure lances through me when I discover M is still snuggled against me. I smile down at her for a long moment, then look past her out the window, where the sun is just rising…over Ireland!
Much as I don’t want to wake her, I don’t want M to miss her first sight of Ireland even more. Gently, I touch her arm, the one that’s not pressed against me, then shake her just a little. She stirs, then opens those amazing green eyes, looking adorably confused. But then she wakes up for real—and immediately pulls away from me, obviously embarrassed.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” She struggles to sit upright. “I didn’t—”
I grin down at her. “No, it’s fine. I hated to wake you, you looked so peaceful, but…look out the window.”
She does, and gasps. Because Ireland is spread below us in every conceivable shade of green, dotted with lakes and crisscrossed by roads that are getting bigger and bigger as we start to descend.
“Wow, no wonder they call it the Emerald Isle. It’s beautiful!”
I’m grinning again, drinking in her pleasure and sharing it. “Isn’t it? I knew you’d like it. And I promise, you’ll like our, uh, final destination even more.”
I keep an eye on those two disloyal Royals as we go through Immigration. They’re near the front of the long non-E.U. passport line, which means they must have come to Earth via Montana instead of Ireland. Unfortunately, M and Rigel have to wait in that line, too, while the rest of us breeze through the E.U. line.
“Guess we’d better go find our bags,” Dad says. “Anyone want to wait here for the others?”
I volunteer, since I’m watching M like a hawk anyway. She and Rigel are standing way too close to each other, in my opinion, even if those Royal Echtrans are already through and gone. They’re not all lovey-dovey like when I first got to Jewel last fall, but they still act more like a couple than a Bodyguard and the person he’s protecting.
The way they look at each other, smile at each other, sometimes it’s like they can communicate without words, they’re so tuned in to each other. Even in the middle of conversations with other people. Impossible, of course, bond or no bond. Just me being paranoid again. I still don’t like it.
Finally they’re through and we all head to where Mum, Dad and Molly are waiting with our luggage. Customs is quick, then we go pick up our rental, an SUV big enough for all six of us. I don’t see those Royals again. Probably had a limo waiting.
I get to sit next to M in the car, since there’s no knowing what Echtrans might be on the roads. It’s obvious she and Stuart don’t like being split up, but that’s tough, since the point is to get her Acclaimed Sovereign ASAP. Unfortunately this car has separate seats in the middle, so she doesn’t even have to try to keep from touching me. Still, if I concentrate, I can feel a hint of that tingle from her—which means she must feel it, too.
“Don’t let me miss any castles, okay?” M’s staring out her window.
“You know I won’t,” I promise. “Hey, Mum, how come we didn’t fly into Shannon? Isn’t Dublin a lot farther?”
“It is, but between no nonstop flights to Shannon and this new highway, this was the faster option.”
“So we’re driving all the way across Ireland?” M sounds surprised. “Bailerealta’s on the west coast, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but it should only take four or five hours,” Dad says.
“Oh, I don’t mind.” She
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