Cursed be the Crown (Cruel Fortunes Book 1)

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Cursed be the Crown (Cruel Fortunes Book 1) Page 18

by RAE STAPLETON


  “Oh, well, maybe it’ll just be the two of us then,” Lucille said, looking up lovingly into her husband’s face.

  “I can deal with that, to be sure.”

  “Awe, Jackie.” She pecked him on the cheek.

  Cullen set a plate full of steak and shrimp in front of me. “Sorry, folks, but we’ve run out of meat. I didn’t know ye were joining us. Should I toss a couple more on?”

  “No, we had dinner with Auntie Shay.”

  “This smells delicious,” I said, cutting off a huge chunk of meat.

  “Tastes good too,” Cullen said, stuffing one of the shrimps into his mouth before taking his seat.

  “Cullen, you’ll get indigestion,” Lucille chided.

  “Oh, Lucy, he’s all grown up. Leave him be.”

  “That’s a great idea,” Lucille said, standing. “My wine is almost empty anyway.” She paused and reached for her husband’s hand. “John, wasn’t there that thing you wanted to show me?”

  “What?” John looked up, perplexed.

  “That thing—you know.”

  “I don’t remember any thing, unless you want me to model my new swimsuit for you upstairs.”

  “Oh, John,” Lucille said, tugging his arm. “Let the kids be. Come on.”

  “All right by me,” John said, standing quickly and sweeping Lucille into his arms.

  “Goodnight,” Lucille called, giggling as John carried her into the house.

  “Your parents are—”

  “—Somethin’ else, to be sure,” Cullen said, answering for me.

  I took another bite and pushed my plate away. The air had cooled, and I was beginning to feel chilled in my dress.

  “Cold?” he asked, getting up and flipping on the outdoor lights. Flames shot up and lit the stone hearth to my left.

  “You have an outdoor fireplace?”

  “What did ye think it was?” he said, laughing and disappearing into the kitchen.

  It even crackled like a real fire.

  Cullen returned, covering me with a velvety soft blanket. He topped up my wine.

  “You’re spoiling me.”

  “Just what ye deserve.”

  I flashed him a smile and for the next half an hour, he talked about his family. We moved to more comfortable seating and lounged on club chairs, his feet on the matching ottoman. His anecdotes about his older brother, the priest, and his parents, whom I’d met, made it obvious how fond he was of them.

  “What’s the story? How come I’m doin’ all the blatherin’ here.

  “So, what’s the craic?” He winked.

  “Pardon?”

  “Ye know, what’s up with yer man from the hospital?”

  “We broke up.”

  “Thank the heavens. He’s a real cad.”

  “No argument there. I’m just thankful you pulled me from the water.”

  “What fella wouldn’t have?”

  “Nick, for one.”

  For what seemed like an eternity he just sat there looking at me. Was it just me or was that chemistry crackling between us?

  When he stood up and came and sat in the chair next to me, I knew I wasn’t alone in my thinking.

  “I know we don’t really know each other, but—” he said, stopping short and I thought of Conrad.

  “It feels like we do,” I said, finishing his sentence.

  “It does.”

  I took a quick breath and he leaned forward as if to kiss me. I jumped to my feet, almost spilling my wine.

  “It’s getting late,” I paused. “I should go to bed.”

  He let out a deep breath and set his glass down on the table with a clack.

  “Yeah, it’s been a long day, hasn’t it?” Standing and stretching his legs, he moved around the table, walking so close behind me I could almost feel his breath on my neck as he gathered up the plates.

  “Did you get yer flight booked?” he asked, before carrying our dishes into the kitchen.

  “Yes. Sorry, I meant to ask you if you knew of a car service that might be available Friday night. That’s the earliest flight I could get.”

  “We’re happy to have you and I’ll take ye.” He handed me a bottle of water

  “You don’t have to do that.” I opened it and took a sip.

  “It’s all right. I want to. There’s just one caveat.”

  “Okay, what’s that?”

  “You have to go on a date with me?”

  “Pardon?”

  He laughed.

  “I know it’s brazen, but we have tickets to the show tomorrow night. I know Ma will expect that you join us. Say ye will?”

  “What sort of show. I’m limited on what I brought to wear.”

  “No problem there.”

  I stared at him quizzically.

  “Aye well, Ma lives for fashion and they have more money than they know what to do with so she’ll have something.”

  “Okay,” I agreed and helped him load the dishwasher. He walked me to my room after that which coincidentally was next to his and we lingered in the doorway. I couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to kiss him. With everything going on, I didn’t need to further complicate my life but there was just something about him. He looked at me for a moment then shut the door and slid his fingers around the back of my head, lacing them through my hair and drawing my mouth to his. The water spilled a little as we moved further inside the guestroom and he set it down for me. Chills ran up my spine as we kissed again. His hands went to the buttons on the back of my sundress. He undid them with ease, placing his hands on the bare skin of my back.

  One hand pushed further inside my dress and then moved it to the front, touching my breast. I shivered as my dress passed my shoulders and slid down my arms onto the carpeted floor. Then he paused and let me go.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “What? What’s the matter?” I asked.

  “I’m behaving like a jack-off. Ye’ve just been through this huge ordeal and I’m taking advantage of you. I’ll just get out of yer hair,” he said, backing out of the room.

  “No. Please, you’re not taking advantage of me and anyway, you don’t have to leave yet. We can talk.”

  He looked at me standing brazenly half-nude, and a grin curved his lips.

  “I somehow doubt that’s what will happen. I want to, believe me, but it wouldn’t be right. I’ll see ye in the mornin’, and I look forward to our date.”

  “Goodnight.” I smiled and watched him leave, closing the door behind him. Why did he have to be such a damn gentleman?

  Oh well, fatigue tugged at my eyes, so it was probably for the best. I closed the door and pulled down the sheets. I was just drifting off when I heard the sound of my cell phone ringing.

  “Hello?” I croaked out, spotting the familiar floral-patterned curtains framing the moonlight in the O’Kelley’s guestroom.

  “Sophia, honey, did I wake you?”

  I recognized Gigi’s voice and looked around the room for a clock.

  “No. Well, yes,” I said, trying to clear my head.

  “You don’t normally go to bed before eleven o’clock.”

  “Long day. I closed my eyes for a moment, and crashed.”

  “You sound upset.”

  “I had a nightmare, that’s all.”

  “Awe, sweetie. Big hugs. Was it the same one?”

  “It was nothing,” I replied sniffing the scent of tobacco in the air. “Anyway, what’s going on? How come you’re calling? I thought I was going to call you.”

  “Oh, I know. Everything’s fine. I just have to go into the hospital tomorrow so they can run some tests.”

  “Tests? Why?”

  “Sophia, now don’t get all worked up. It’s no big deal. Leslie had to go home to work and I just knew you were planning to call tomorrow, and I didn’t want you to worry when you didn’t get an answer.”

  Right, like I’m not worried now.

  “What are the tests for? Who’s taking you if Leslie’s work
ing?”

  “Well, actually, Greta’s in town.”

  Alarm bells went off in my head. Greta Woods was Gigi’s daughter, my grandmother, or simply Greta, as she liked me to call her—a self-absorbed woman who moved to California after her first failed marriage to pursue a career in acting. Leaving my mother, who was four years old at the time, behind with Gigi. Greta never made it as an actress, but she landed herself a rich oil tycoon and moved to Texas, sending money and cards on our birthdays.

  “They’re just double checking something,” Gigi replied calmly.

  This was probably the most involvement Greta’d had in her own mother’s life in ten years.

  “Greta wouldn’t be in town for no reason. How serious is it?”

  “You’re being silly, girl. It’s fine. They found a little lump, that’s all. At my age nothing grows quick, not even tumors; don’t worry yourself. I’ll call you when it’s all over.”

  “I got my passport and booked the red eye. My flight gets in Saturday. Maybe I should come directly up to the Lake House.”

  “Now, you don’t have to rush. Stop and sleep. Leslie’s coming up for dinner on Sunday. You know that girl would starve if she didn’t eat me out of house and home at least once a week. Why don’t you just wait and ride up together. I’m—”

  “Gigi.” I cut her off. “I’ll see you Saturday.”

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  S leep and a hot shower the following morning was just the ticket. I was considerably refreshed when I went downstairs. The smell of fresh-brewed coffee in the air was tantalizing and piquing my appetite. Perhaps I’d grown a little too used to breakfast in bed. Spending a couple of weeks in the life of a Princess could do that to you. Lucile, however was no palace servant, but she had graciously made arrangements to have breakfast prepared and served. Apparently, the O’Kelley’s traveled with help. Either that, or she’d called in a local caterer.

  “How’d ye sleep?” Cullen asked as I joined him at the table in the dining room.

  “Good,” I answered.

  “Then why the long face?”

  “Oh. Is it that evident? My great grandmother called after you left. She’s going for tests today, so that’s bothering me a little, but nothing I can do about it from here.”

  “Tests? Is she sick then?” he asked, in a serious voice.

  “No,” I answered, forcing a smile. “Or at least she wasn’t. She mentioned a growth so I don’t know what’s going on.”

  “Well, it’s like ye say. Nothin’ to be done about it from here so just try to push it out of your mind and I’ll do my best to entertain ye until ye’re back home to her.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “But you really don’t need to babysit me. I crashed your vacation. Please, feel free to do whatever it is you had planned.”

  “Nonsense,” he said, shaking his head. “You say crashed. I say brightened.” He went on. “So, the show doesn’t start until eight tonight. What shall we do today?

  “I’m thinking bed,” I replied.

  A grin spread across his cheeks, and I couldn’t stop myself from blushing. I started to explain myself, when he reached across the table and patted my hand. “I know what you meant, Sophia. You’d like to rest up,” he said. “Although I’m happy to indulge if it’s company you require.” Then he added, “You are after all the guest.”

  My cheeks hurt from smiling. Maybe time with him was better than time alone. “How about we relax together. I was thinking of reading in bed but I could do that by the pool or ocean if you wanted to join me.”

  “Sounds like a date,” He said and smiled.

  By six in the evening we’d had enough of the great outdoors and returned to our room to get ready for our night on the town. Lucille had hung a long dress in my closet on the off chance I would need it. It was gorgeous. A smoldering silky black number with a long-sleeved overlay in black-and-white dotted print. Slit up to the thigh on one side, it was very French, and since my own dresses were wrinkled, I decided to wear it.

  After I’d dressed and styled my hair, I looked around for Lucille to thank her but didn't see her anywhere. I heard a wolf whistle from my position in the kitchen and glanced out the patio doors. Cullen was hunkered down with a smile on his face, looking sleekly put together in his dinner jacket and perfectly starched shirt, his red hair smoothly combed, it was hard to believe he was the same guy I’d hung out with all day.

  “Hey, there,” I said. “Right back at cha. You sure clean up nice.”

  He took a sip of his drink and blushed. “Thanks! It’s not as comfy as shorts and sandals but Ma insists—fashion maven that she is.” Then he stood up and came over to kiss my hand. “You look beautiful. Is that the dress Ma bought for ye today?”

  “Lucille bought this today? Oh my, I thought it was hers and she’d just pulled it from her own wardrobe.”

  “Oh no, that would never do.” He grinned. “You like it? You don’t have to wear it, just to make her feel good.” His voice lowered to a conspiratorial tone. “We can pretend it didn’t fit if you prefer your own clothes.”

  “No, are you kidding? I love it.”

  Cullen looked up and smiled. “Good ‘cause I’m pretty sure she went through your clothes to get your size. She’s invasive like that.” I laughed and he cleared his throat. “And here they come.”

  We managed to fit in a quick round of drinks and appetizers before the limo picked us up. The wild west themed circus was hilarious, but by the eighty-minute mark, I was ready to chew on the seat in front of me. Thankfully, there was no wait at ten in the evening. Our coats were whisked into cupboards secreted in the wall, and we were shown to the lounge for a pre-dinner aperitif. Or, at least, that’s what the fancy-schmancy waiter called it.

  “How did the two of you meet?” I asked, sipping the champagne John had chosen.

  “Oh, that’s a story, all right!” Lucile smiled, snuggling closer into her husband. She was in an ivory cocktail dress that draped elegantly from one shoulder.

  “Lucy here worked for me. She was nineteen when I discovered her in London.”

  “You’re from England?” I asked, confused by her heavy, Irish accent.

  “Jaysus, no! She’s Irish, to be sure—just test her temper to find that out—but she lived there for a time. A receptionist at the local television station I bought. She bowled me over: awkward, shy and beautiful.”

  She pecked him on the cheek just as the maître d’ returned to show us to our table, which was at the end of the dining room. Cullen and I were seated on the inside. I admired the ballet of waiters and sommeliers gliding through the room. It wasn’t two minutes before our starters arrived. Scallops, fine tart with fennel, and Saint Tola goat’s cheese.

  “This is almost too pretty to eat,” I said.

  “Almost, but not,” Cullen said, stuffing two scallops into his mouth.

  “Cullen, you’re too handsome to eat like a bloody cave man. Save room for the lobster, for heaven’s sake,” his mother chided.

  Cullen winked and excused himself.

  “I think I’ll join you, son,” John said, standing quickly.

  “I thought it was just ladies who did that!” I joked.

  “When nature calls,” he smiled, throwing his napkin down on his seat.

  I watched them go.

  “Ye fancy him, do ye?” Lucile said, startling me back to reality.

  “Umm… yeah. He’s very sweet.”

  “And it doesn’t hurt that he’s a big hunk of a man.” She laughed. “Don’t worry. I’m allowed to say that, I made him.”

  I smiled.

  “John had the same effect on me when we met. He made me an irresistible offer: made me a co-anchor and sent me to New York to learn about network news and, more importantly, hair and makeup,” she laughed.

  “So, you’re on television, then? I should have guessed from the photographers outside.”

  “Not bloody well anymore,” she laughed. “It was probably just a slow night for the
poor buggers. No, I gave it all up to raise my boys.”

  That’s right, I thought, remembering Cullen had an older brother. “You must have been a baby yourself when you had Liam.”

  Something flashed in Lucile’s eyes and I suddenly wondered if I’d made a faux pas. “I’m sorry,” I apologized realizing many women were touchy about their age.

  “Sorry for what?” John said, returning with Cullen to the table.

  “Gah. She’s Canadian, dear,” she said, with a wink. “She apologizes for everything.”

  Just then the food came out, along with the sommelier, who announced he had the perfect pairing for the poached lobster and braised turbot.

  Two delicious hours later, his parents left and we strolled home—well, Cullen strolled, and I did my best not to curl up and fall asleep in the street.

  “Turns out I didn’t need the wine and chocolate,” I groaned, as we entered his family’s summer house.

  “Probably not the whiskey, either, but who’s counting?”

  “It was great getting to know you and your parents.” I took my shoes off and curled up in the corner of the couch, while Cullen moved to the fridge.

  “Your company was the best part. Pretending to be civilized is nice from time to time, but I prefer live bands.”

  I agreed. “What are you doing over there? I absolutely cannot handle anymore booze unless of course you’re trying to get me plastered so you can take advantage of me tonight?”

  “That’s a brilliant idea,” he said, pulling two bottles of water from the fridge. “But I’m afraid I’m not that clever. I just thought we might want to rehydrate.”

  I climbed to my feet and drank one with vigor as we headed up the stairs and down the hall to the bedrooms. I paused in the doorway wanting once again to invite him in. Would he reject me a second time?

  ***

  The sound of a floorboard creaking woke me out of a deep sleep, and it took a second to remember I was in the O’Kelley’s guestroom. I lay on the bed mostly dressed, my arm stretched lazily above my head, blanket tangled around my waist. We’d stayed up talking almost all night. I must have dozed off at some point around four.

  I eyed my clothes haphazardly tossed into my open suitcase. It was time to get up and pack. I was leaving today.

 

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