The Queen of England

Chapter twenty five Destination

I lead Britt to the car. "Where are we going?" She asks.

"Nowhere." I say playfully.

"Cody what are you doing?" She demands.

"You'll see soon, Mrs. Landon." I say.

"I want to know now!" She whines playfully, reminding me she's only sixteen.

"Well, you can't." I say to her in an equally whiny voice.

I open the door for her and she gets in, and then I lean down and kiss her cheek as she buckles up.

I get into the drivers seat and start driving. "Where are we going?" My wife repeats.

"To a place!" I chuckle. She's so adorable when she's flustered.

"Ugh! Cody!" She cries.

"Be patient, my love." I say, smirking.

"I don't like you." She says.

I just laugh. "A little late for liking me, huh Britt?" I ask.

She rolls her eyes.

*****

I drive us to the private airstrip twenty minutes from the palace. Brittany is still fidgeting in her seat, wanting to know where she's being taken. I still haven't told her, and she's going crazy.

"Paris?" She asks.

"I've been to Paris. I wouldn't take you there. It's dirty." I say.

She pouts.

I can't help but laugh at how adorable she is as i lead her onto the plane. It's a private jet, and that means she doesn't have to know where it's taking us.

"You're going to take me to the middle of nowhere, aren't you?" Britt asks me. "You're gonna kill me when there's no one around."

I laugh again. "If I wanted to kill you, love, you'd already be dead." I say.

"Dammit Cody just tell me!" Britt explodes.

I smile and sit down, pouring myself a drink.

"Give me one." She says.

"You're sixteen. You're not allowed to drink." I say.

"Oh, come on." She says.

"No, legal drinking age in England is eighteen." I tell her, still smiling.

"Legal drinking age in Denmark is sixteen. And I'm Danish." Britt replied.

"Touché." I say, and give her a drink.

She takes it and sits down, adjusting her skirt around her legs. "You're mean." She says, sipping her drink.

"I'm yours." I correct.

She rolls her eyes. "Not really." She says.

This troubles me. "What ever do you mean?" I ask her.

I am her husband now, why would she say that?

"Well, you're not really mine. I'm yours. You belong to whole of England." She says.

"Brittany, my love, I am yours. Before I am England's. As you are mine. Before you are Denmark's." I say.

She shrugs. "I suppose." She says. She sips her drink again.

"Brittany." I say. "Look at me."

She doesn't.

I place my drink in the cup holder, stand, and crouch before her. "Britt." I say. "Look at me. Now."

Reluctantly, she meets my eyes.

"Brittany, do you think I've only married you because I had to?" I ask.

"Well, you did. Yes, maybe we've gotten a hell of a lot closer than I thought, but it doesn't mean you would've married me if you'd had a choice." She says.

"And do you think I took you on a honeymoon because I had to?" I demand.

"I don't know." She says.

"Brittany, it's true. I did have to marry you for the sake of my country and yours." I say.

Her face falls. "But," I say. "That's not the only reason. I married you tonight because I wanted to. Because I love you and don't want to share you with anyone else. Or myself, for that matter."

She looks up. "You don't?" She asks.

"Of course not. Brittany, my love, you are the only one I want. I belong to you, one hundred and fifty percent of the time." I say.

She smiles. "I'm so glad you said that." She says.

I kiss her. "Now, none of this pouting. My wife will be happy." I say.

"Yes, your majesty." She says playfully.

I tickle her and return to my seat.