The Swedish Prince Page 47
Then he chokes on a long, raw moan that he desperately tries to tone down, his shoulders shaking as he comes.
The pumping slows.
His grip in my hair loosens.
He collapses against me, his hair damp and sticking to his brow. His eyes take me in, his breath heavy and hard.
“Maggie,” he manages to say after a minute, his voice raw. He’s still inside me and I’m still pulsing around him, the torrent inside me slowing. “I moose ask you a question.”
I’m so taken aback by the joke that it takes me a moment before I let out a quiet laugh.
“But I am serious,” he says, his hand going to my face as he searches my eyes. “Come back with me. Please.”
“You know I can’t.”
“No,” he says with a shake of his head, a drop of sweat beading off the tip of his nose. “You don’t know that you can.”
He then pauses, taking in a deep breath.
“Hear me out.”
* * *
***
* * *
“Gather around everyone,” Pike yells as Viktor and I hover nervously behind him in the back of the kitchen. “Family meeting!”
I glance up at Viktor and he squeezes my hand in return.
“There’s no cow on the ice,” he says.
I’m not sure about that one.
Viktor and I stayed up very late last night. It wasn’t just that we made love three times (although that was a factor), it was that he had a plan for me.
Me and my brothers and sisters.
At first it all sounded a little too simple. A little too good to be true. Then the more I thought about it, the more complicated and impossible it became.
So right now, we’re just winging it, throwing shit against the wall and seeing what sticks.
It’s Saturday, so luckily I’m not working and the kids are all at home. When we got up this morning, the first thing I did was go to Pike’s room and have a talk with him, telling him our plan. He’s a big part of it and I needed to prepare him, needed him on my team.
He wasn’t overjoyed with the idea at first since it means some extra work on his behalf. But he’s a good brother and knows how much Viktor and I care about each other. At least he knows that now. Also, this whole thing benefits him as well.
The only thing we left out was the whole prince thing.
That will come.
Callum is the first to come barrelling down the stairs in his pajamas.
“Pancakes, are we having pancakes? Are we…”
He trails off and stops dead in his tracks when he sees Viktor standing there.
“The Swedish Chef!” he yells, pointing. “Herdy schmerdy bork bork!”
“Yes, herdy schmerdy bork bork is back,” Viktor says, making his accent thicker to match the Chef’s. “Nice to see you, little buddy.”
“Are you making us pancakes?!” He’s practically screaming.
“Callum, calm down.”
“Perhaps,” Viktor says and then looks over his shoulder out the window where the Town Car is parked. He whispers to me. “If I do I should bring some for Janne outside.”
“What happened to Nick?”
“They have shifts.”
“What are you guys whispering about?” Callum asks, and now Pike is looking out the window at the car with suspicion.
He raises a brow at me and I make the motion that I’ll explain in a bit.
“What’s going on?” Rosemary says through a yawn as she shuffles into the kitchen, followed by Thyme. They pause before sitting down at the table, looking in unison at Viktor. “What are you doing here?” they ask.
“I’ll explain in a minute,” Pike says. “Where is April? She is home right?”
“I’m coming,” April snaps from the stairway, appearing in the kitchen completely disheveled. She’s the only one who doesn’t seem surprised to see Viktor. Then I remember she saw him last night and told him where I was.
Then I remember she shares a wall with me.
I wince and look away, avoiding her glare as she goes over to the coffee pot and starts making some. Fourteen seems young for a caffeine addiction but I have to pick and choose my battles in this house.
“Okay,” Pike says and then points at me. “Maggie has some exciting news to share.”
And just like that it’s all on me.
“Right,” I say and Viktor squeezes my hand harder. “Okay, here’s the thing. There are going to be some changes happening but they’re all fun changes, okay?”
“Are we getting a new dog?” Callum asks.
I wince again. “No. Not that.”
“What about a hamster?”
“Bearded dragons are really cool,” Thyme says.
“No, we aren’t getting any pets. Listen. Here’s what’s going to happen.” I take in a deep breath. “I’m going to Sweden for a few weeks.”
Everyone just stares at me for a beat.
“Like a vacation?” Thyme asks.
“Yes, like a vacation. To be with Viktor in Stockholm.”
“Who will take care of us?” Callum asks.
“I will,” Pike says. “With Rosemary and Thyme’s help of course.”
They both nod eagerly. They’ve been waiting for the responsibility, always bringing up the fact that Mallory in the Babysitter’s Club was eleven when she started babysitting.
“Then,” I add, drawing out the word, “it’s Christmas break. Which means all of you are flying over to Sweden for the holidays.”
Silence.
“Christmas in Sweden!” I try and sound more enthusiastic.
Blink blink. No one even breathes.
“What if we don’t want to go to Sweden?” April asks with a scowl. I knew I could count on her to say something.
“Then it’s too bad because we’re all going,” I tell her. “And I promise you guys will love it. I promise.”
Callum slowly nods, tapping his fingers against his chin. “I suppose it will do.” Pause. Bright smile. “Can I meet ABBA?”
I have a feeling Callum thinks ABBA is one person.
“Maybe,” Viktor says.
I punch his arm. “Don’t tease him, he’ll hold you to it.”
“And ABBA knows my mother, I’m pretty sure I could arrange it.”
“ABBA knows your mother?” Pike asks.
“Well, yes,” Viktor says. “Everyone knows my mother.”
Here it goes.
“Why, is she famous?” Callum asks.
Viktor looks at him and nods. “Yes.”
“Why, who is she?” April says, sounding more curious than snarky now.
“She’s the queen of Sweden,” he says with a shrug.
“Shut up,” Rosemary says. “Your mother is not the queen of Sweden.”
“She is. My father is the king.”
“Phhhfff,” April says, turning her back to us. “Yeah right. We might be Americans but we ain’t dumb.”
“That would make you a prince,” Thyme says.
“I know,” he says. “I am.”
“Shut up,” Rosemary says again.
“Rosemary, stop telling the Prince of Sweden to shut up,” I tell her.
“Pike, tell them to stop lying,” April says.
I look at Pike. His brows are drawn together as he looks out the window, deep in thought. He finally looks at us. “The car that’s out there. Friend of yours?”
“That’s Janne,” Viktor says. “He’s assigned to protect me.”
“Protect you!” Rosemary exclaims.
“Really?” Thyme says.
Viktor nods. “I’m not joking.”
“Bullshit,” April says. “As soon as this coffee is done, I’m going upstairs and not listening to your nonsense anymore. And I’m not going to Sweden.”
“But you would get to live in a palace and meet the king and queen,” Viktor says. “All your desires would be taken care of.”
“You’re a liar.”
“No,” Pike says, looking down at his phone. “He’s not.” He lifts his phone for everyone to see. It’s the Google Images page of Viktor.
All chairs are pushed back at once, the scrape of them filling the kitchen as Callum, Rosemary and Thyme run over to Pike to get a better look.
They look down at the screen.
Look up at Viktor.
Look down at the screen.
Look up at Viktor.
“Holy crap,” Rosemary and Thyme say together.
“Holy crap!” Callum yells.
“Yeah. Holy…” Pike trails off. “I can’t believe you kept this a secret.”
I shrug. “It wasn’t my place to say.”
“I don’t like lying,” Viktor says. “But I had to last time. It would have been a security risk if anyone had known it was me.” He looks at Callum. “I am still a good cook though. That wasn’t a fluke.”
And now April slowly comes over to Pike and takes the phone from him. She glances at the screen, doesn’t say anything and gives the phone back. “Can we seriously stay at the palace?” she asks Viktor.
“I don’t see why not,” he says. He looks around the room. “So what do you all say? Christmas in Sweden?”
Everyone exchanges excited glances and then yells, “Christmas in Sweden!”
Chapter Twenty
Maggie
A week flies by in a blink.
One minute I’m working my ass off with extra shifts, trying to get the house in order for Pike to make this job as easy on him as possible, the next I’m boarding the plane for Stockholm, Sweden.
First class!
I even have my own bed and everything. It’s almost nicer than the bed I have at home. I even have my own butler, just like Viktor does.
Okay, so the first-class flight attendants aren’t servants but they do bring you champagne and whatever else you ask for even before the flight takes off.
There is a sharp twang of guilt that I’m doing this while the kids are slaving away at school, but the guilt disappears when I realize they’ll be doing the same thing, albeit in coach, in two weeks from now. Until then, I’m going to be alone with Viktor in Sweden.