“You never told me about your fantasies. You never asked me to take a train ride with you so we could have sex. Did you think I wouldn’t do it?”

“You’re Princess Rosalina, and I’m the future prince. If someone had caught us having sex on a train, we’d have created a massive scandal that would affect the monarchy. That’s a lot of pressure for one man to bear.”

“That’s not my question.” She couldn’t stop herself from smoothing a hand down her stomach and around to her bottom, wondering if he was attracted to her at all. Was she not his type? Or was she just not a sexy woman? “Did I ever star in your fantasies?”

He went quiet.

“Marcel, we have to have this conversation. You can’t possibly hurt me more than you’ve already done, so just talk to me.”

“No. I didn’t think about you like that.”

He’d never fantasized about her. And, just as she sank into the embarrassment of that truth, she realized she’d never fantasized about him.

“I know you want my forgiveness, but I can’t give it to you right now. Don’t call me or text me. Give me the next five days to myself, and we’ll talk when I get home.”

Worn out, Rosalina powered down her phone. Her body might be exhausted, but her mind was wired. She couldn’t marry Marcel, and yet she had to. What was she supposed to do with that?

You don’t have to do anything about it for the next couple of days. She’d try on her wedding dress, explore Calamity, and get a handle on this soul-shaking doubt.

The wind shifted, bringing a scent that triggered the one thing she cared about more than anything. Perfume. “Oh, my God.” She filled her lungs with the scented air.

It wasn’t exactly the same as her flower, but there was no doubt it was the same genus. She shoved her feet into her ballet flats, grabbed the keycard to her room, and ran out the door.

As Brodie drove the bulldozer toward the site, the blade kicked out rocks and plumes of dust. He figured, once he cleared out this rough path, his crew could come in to widen and level it. In building his house, he wanted only one road in. He’d do as little damage as he could.

Depositing a pile of shrub and dirt, he paused to take in the view. The rising sun cast a pink glow to the snow-crested mountains. Little red flowers fluttered across the vast, open meadow.

This is it. He knew without a doubt he’d chosen the right site.