Chapters (61)
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- AUTHOR’S NOTE
- ONE DANNI
- TWO ROSE
- THREE DANNI
- FOUR DANNI
- FIVE ROSE
- SIX ROSE
- SEVEN DANNI
- EIGHT ROSE
- NINE DANNI
- TEN ROSE
- ELEVEN ROSE
- TWELVE ROSE
- THIRTEEN ROSE
- FOURTEEN DANNI
- FIFTEEN DANNI
- SIXTEEN ROSE
- SEVENTEEN DANNI
- EIGHTEEN ROSE
- NINETEEN ROSE
- TWENTY DANNI
- TWENTY-ONE DANNI
- TWENTY-TWO DANNI
- TWENTY-THREE ROSE
- TWENTY-FOUR ROSE
- TWENTY-FIVE DANNI
- TWENTY-SIX ROSE
- TWENTY-SEVEN DANNI
- TWENTY-EIGHT ROSE
- TWENTY-NINE ROSE
- THIRTY DANNI
- THIRTY-ONE DANNI
- THIRTY-TWO ROSE
- THIRTY-THREE DANNI
- THIRTY-FOUR ROSE
- THIRTY-FIVE ROSE
- THIRTY-SIX DANNI
- THIRTY-SEVEN ROSE
- THIRTY-EIGHT DANNI
- THIRTY-NINE ROSE
- FORTY DANNI
- FORTY-ONE ROSE
- FORTY-TWO DANNI
- FORTY-THREE ROSE
- FORTY-FOUR DANNI
- FORTY-FIVE ROSE
- FORTY-SIX ROSE
- FORTY-SEVEN DANNI
- FORTY-EIGHT ROSE
- FORTY-NINE ROSE
- FIFTY ROSE
- FIFTY-ONE ROSE
- FIFTY-TWO DANNI
- EPILOGUE ROSE
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- Also by Sophie Gonzales
- Praise Page
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- Newsletter Sign-up
“Yes, Rosie. We’re seventeen. That’s what happens when you’re around your parents and you’re a couple. You get teased.”
“I suppose I wouldn’t know,” I say, still forcing the same smile.
“What, you don’t want to follow me to Oxford?” he asks, his eyes glittering.
“I’ll happily visit you at Oxford. How about that?”
“Maybe you should consider it. Your father isn’t all wrong, you know.” He pauses. “Have you … put much thought into your future at all?”
“We’re only in fifth year.”
“I know. But then suddenly, we’re going to be in sixth. And then, who knows? I admit, I’ve been curious. What happens to you in the long term? Are you planning on marrying?”
“I suppose so, yes. One day.”
He nods thoughtfully. “And I’d hazard a guess you’d want a husband who’s happy to cover for you while you partake in … other activities behind the scenes?”
“I imagine it would be rather difficult if he weren’t happy.”
“So do I.” He gives me a mischievous grin. “In that case, you know, you could do a lot worse than me.”
“Are you volunteering?” I tease.
He stops grinning, and I almost forget to keep my own expression pleasant. “Are you … volunteering?” I repeat.
He only shrugs.
“But why?” I ask, nonplussed. “If you’re honestly being serious, why on earth would you volunteer to marry me when you don’t lo—” I catch myself, and look at him in questioning horror.
He rolls his eyes. “I’m not in love with you, don’t fret. But I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought about what it would be like to be your husband.”
“And?”
“And … I think you’re wonderful. I would be more than happy to spend a life with you.”
“Until you do fall for someone.”
“Well, I admit I assumed you wouldn’t be demanding monogamy from me. Isn’t a side piece one of the treasured traditions of kings worldwide?”
I stare at him, and he seems to realize what he’s said. “Kings of yesteryear, anyway,” he corrects.
“In other words,” I say coolly, “the fate I have to settle for—in which I must forever hide the woman I love—is one you would voluntarily choose?”
“It’s just as voluntary for you as it would be for me,” he says.