Stolen from Her Royal Wedding by Pippa Roscoe

Author:Pippa Roscoe
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-04-19T15:22:33+00:00

Lykos had called Aleksander while Marit had slept on the private jet. The King had offered the support of the security services, but Lykos had refused. More people meant more attention and more notice. Years ago, he’d learned that small meant quick, nimble and often invisible. As such, keeping it to him and Marit was actually the safer option. Aleksander had agreed, but his embassy was on alert and he gave Lykos a direct telephone number that would be changed the moment Marit was back on Svardian soil.

Lykos appreciated the reminder and it became a mental line in the sand. After he returned Marit to Svardia, everything would go back to normal. He’d have the shares to bring Kozlov down and be able to return to the nomadic lifestyle that he enjoyed: hotels in every city, a willing woman in every bar who’d appreciate a brief encounter as much as he did. No one to ask meaningful questions, no one to dig deeper than he wished. His future was as he liked it, on his terms and his terms only: alone and uncomplicated.

He looked out of the window, wondering why it felt a little hollow.

We’re here for your date.

It had been the only reason he could think of to explain why they had left Milan and now Lykos was taking Marit on a date. Which was very complicated. He clenched his jaw as he called himself every single kind of fool. He could tell that Marit was upset by his withdrawal, but his intention to break the connection forming between them had been for her own good. And then he’d gone and told her he was taking her on a date.

The car pulled up outside the black iron railings that fronted the Regency terrace townhouse he’d bought after a year in London. He had wanted it on first sight. It was everything that he’d not been, everything that he’d not had growing up: money, history, permanence, sophistication. It wasn’t quite a castle, but it wasn’t far off.

Beside him, Marit was staring up at the townhouse with a frown.

‘This is yours?’

‘Yes,’ he said, pride and satisfaction infusing his tone. ‘You don’t like it?’

‘I do,’ she said, peering through the car window, still taking in the perfect façade. ‘It just doesn’t feel like you.’ With that she exited the car, closing the door behind her and leaving him feeling...confused.

He got out. ‘What do you mean?’ he called over the roof of the car, but she was through the gate and had followed the driver with their luggage to the front door.

Unlike his properties in Europe, this purchase had nothing to do with convenience. He’d had a large amount of work done restoring or recreating as much of the original fixtures and mouldings as possible because, while it was everything his childhood hadn’t been, it was exactly what he wanted in his future. It was why he’d teased Theron with his desire to buy the Soames estate, which was as close to a castle as one could get.

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