by R. S. Lively
His happiness? Yes. Sex? No. I hope he is still a virgin, though. Oh, crap. That makes me wonder if he has ever had the talk. Do I do that? He is seventeen. He knows about sex, right?
“Hello! Earth to Rosie!” Alice shouts, yanking me from my thoughts.
I grab a sparkling water from the mini fridge in the bedroom and press it against my neck. I’m suddenly feeling really stressed and overheated. “Yeah, sorry. I got lost in thought. How is Australia? You living the life down under?” I let my famous Australian accent slip. Even if it is the only time I’ve ever done it, I will say, it sounds pretty good.
She chuckles, letting out a long sigh. “That is awful. The locals would tear you apart if they ever heard you talk like that.”
I take a swig of my drink, letting the cool bubbly coat my throat. Something sounds off with her. I unwrap my lips from around the bottle with a pop and sit on the balcony, careful to keep my bits covered. “Are you okay?”
She sniffles. “I’m fine. Why?”
“You sound… off. I’m worried about you. Alice, you haven’t been home in years. I barely hear from you. You act like you’re in hiding or something. What’s going on?”
“There’s a lot you don’t know, Rosie. A lot you wouldn’t understand.”
I set the Pellegrino down and lean forward. “Make me understand then. Talk to me about something. Anything other than another move, another trip. Another damn continent you seem to be on. I want to hear about you. I miss you. I miss my friend.” Tears prickle my eyes when I think about the last time I saw her. We were seventeen, at the local drive-in with boys we weren’t supposed to be with. Her parents came, and her father grabbed her by her arm, dragging her between the cars as she yelled for her to let her go.
I haven’t seen her since. It’s been six years. Six years of once-a-year phone calls, six years of postcards, six years of vague letters. She isn’t herself.
And here I am, in a damn castle in Belgium, enjoying all of the finer things in life.
“I can’t tell you.”
“Alice. Tell me,” I beg. I don’t have anyone else. If I lose her, which in a way, I already have, then I’m left truly alone in the world. I’ve held onto the ghost of my friend for far too long. I need her to talk to me or I don’t know how this friendship can continue. “Are you safe? At least tell me that.”
“I’m safe. You don’t have to worry about that anymore. It’s why I’m able to call so much now.”
“Yeah, from a burner phone!” I whip back.
“One can never be too safe.”
I roll my eyes. It’s like she’s in witness protection or running from something. Maybe she is; I wouldn’t know since she won’t tell me anything.
“How are you doing? Come on, catch me up,” she says with a new pep in her step.
I sigh, annoyed, and a little fed up with her always hiding from me. “I’m fine. Really great actually. I’m in Belgium for work.”
“Belgium! Holy cow. Now there is a place I have never seen before. That’s exciting. What’s it like? Why are you there?”
I lift my legs, sitting on them to get more comfortable. “I’m here for work. I can’t really tell you much else. I signed an NDA.” I grab my drink, the condensation tickling the pads of my fingers. “It’s pretty though. It’s amazing here. I wish I never had to go back.” My heart frowns at the thought, breaking in two when I think about leaving Luca.
Three months of being apart and only having two days together. It isn’t fair. Nothing about this is fair. I’ve been falling in love with someone who I thought I would never see him again, only to finally have him, and have to leave right away and leave my heart behind in the process.
“I have a feeling it has less to do with the place and more to do with a who,” she pries.
I smile, thinking about Luca, his strong arms and handsome face. I miss him and it’s only been a few hours. “Maybe.”
“Oh, tell me more!” she says excitedly with a few giggles.
My smile fades. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Rosie—”
“No. No, Alice. I’ve been patient with you. I’ve been understanding, but you don’t get to call up, act like everything is okay without a word, and not tell me anything about you and expect me to tell you everything about me.” My voice gets louder, and tears prickle my eyes. “I love you, and I miss you, but until you feel comfortable telling me about your life, that’s when I’ll tell you about mine.”
“Rosie…” Her soft, depressed plea stings my heart like a wasp, making my skin ache and burn with guilt.
“I’m sorry, Alice. I need to go.”
“Wait, let me explain.”
“Have a good day,” I say, hanging up on her yelling through the phone, cutting her off. A few seconds later, my eyes close when the phone buzzes, but I silence it, putting it to the side and deciding to forget about it.
The door bursts open to my room, and I clutch onto my robe, making sure everything is covered. A frazzled Luca runs into view, suit unbuttoned and hair a wreck. “Luca, is everything okay?” I run to him, and he cups my face with his hands, staring into my eyes with relief.
“I heard you yelling. I was outside with my father, and I came running when I heard you. Are you okay? Is someone here?” He lowers his voice to a low, quiet tenor. “Blink twice,” he mouths, glancing around the room for anyone unwelcome.
I giggle, wrapping my arms around his built waist, and tilt my head back to get a good look at his face. “I’m fine. No one is here. Alice called.”
“Alice?” His brows pinch in confusion when he hears the unknown name.
“She’s my best friend. Was my best friend?” No, that doesn’t sound right. “She is my best friend. Things are just hard right now. I blew up for no reason.”
“You want to talk about it, my sweet little fox?” He calls me by the pet name he gave me.
I lean into his touch, soaking in every second since I leave in four days. “I don’t know. Maybe later. I’m glad you’re here. I didn’t think I was going to see you today.” I place my cheek on his chest and relax.
“Well, hearing you so upset made me rearrange my day.” His hands run up and down my back, soothing me. All of the frustration I felt with Alice is gone, and I sink into Luca’s embrace, melting into his strong, dominant presence.
“I’m sorry. You should go. I have to meet with Mr. Kimmel today anyway. We have to go over plans.”
Luca’s eyes get hard as steel, the beautiful blue darkening into a threatening grey. “I don’t want you alone with him. I’ll go with you.”
“That isn’t necessary. I don’t think he will hurt me. He’s just rude.” I pull away from Luca and walk away toward the closet where I unpacked my suitcase. I tug a blue dress off the hanger and stride into the bathroom. I brush my hair again as Luca stands behind me, staring at me in the mirror hanging above the expansive sink. “I’ll be fine,” I reassure him. “He won’t touch me.”
“I don’t trust him. I don’t like how he looks at you.”
I make a face of disgust. “He doesn’t look at me.” But the words are stale on my tongue. I know he’s right. I need to trust my gut, but I can’t tell the difference between instinct and paranoia anymore. “He says things that are inappropriate, sure, but I don’t think he will hurt me. I work for him—”
“That’s not a reason for him to treat you like he does.” Luca comes from behind and slides his hands over my hips. “I just got you back. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“Nothing will happen to me. You worry too much.”
He spins me around in his arms and his hand sits right above my ass. “I will always worry when it comes to you. There’s something about that guy that rubs me the wrong way. I’m coming with you.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can. I don’t think you can’t, but you can’t take on a man three times your size. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happene
d to you. Please.”
I exhale and place my hands on his chest, the muscle flexing under my touch. “I’ve had business meetings with him before, Luca. I’ll be fine.”
“You are so stubborn.”
“I’m independent. There’s a difference.” I whip back around and tie my hair in a braid, a little annoyed with how this conversation is going.
“Don’t be mad,” he says as he bends over and gives me a wet kiss on my neck and unties my robe. “Let me make it up to you.” His fingers dive under the collar and slide the material off my body, falling to my feet in a cotton pile. “So beautiful,” he whispers.
I tilt my head to give him more room, letting him do what he does best.
Chapter Seventeen
Luca
I don’t like this at all. There is something really off with that Kimmel guy. I know a bad person when I see one, and he is full of bad intentions. The way his gaze lands on her, and looks her up and down, makes me see red. I know she wants to be her own woman, but she doesn’t understand that she’s only meeting him out of fear. I see it in her body language, the way she averts her eyes and stays as far away as possible from him, and the way he talks about her like she is someone worthless. His actions make me want to punch him in the face.
But I have to let her be her own woman or my possessive nature will smother her. It will be a learning curve for both of us. “How about after your meeting, we have drinks down by the pool and go for a swim?” My hand lingers on her lower back step as we walk down the stairs in harmony.
“Oh, I didn’t pack a suit.” She looks stricken and bummed. Her bottom lip sticks out in a cute pout.
Once we get to the bottom of the staircase, I grab her ass with my hands, yanking her toward me. I take that big, pouty lip with my mouth and suck it, lavishing it with my tongue. I moan and let it go with an audible pop. “Who said anything about wearing a suit?” I growl, my cock jerking in my pants when I think of her naked body swimming in the water.
“You’re bad,” she purrs, cupping my hard dick with her hand.
I groan, wanting her, but knowing this isn’t the time or place. “Go, to your meeting now or I’ll never let you go.” I step away, regretting every being farther than an inch from her.
She gives me a cute, shy smirk as she backs away. “Fine. Until later.”
“I’ll be waiting.” We don’t stop looking at each other until she backs away to the point where she has to turn around not to miss the wall. Her tight body slinks in the blue dress she put on, swaying her hips more than usual just to drive me crazy.
The smile slips from my lips when she is out of sight. There’s no way in hell I’m letting my woman be alone with a snake like Kimmel. I wander off to find Marcel. He will keep an eye on her for me while I get to business. I tug on my shirt sleeves and walk past the family portrait, below which grandmother’s ashes rest in a gold vase, and hang left, bypassing the wine cellar until I dip my head under the archway leading into the kitchen.
I knew I’d find him here. He’s enjoying tea and a cucumber sandwich. He loves those things. Me, personally, I can’t stand them. “Marcel,” I say his name to get his attention since he doesn’t notice me standing here.
“Hello, Sire. How can I help you today?” He puts his sandwich down and glances at the clock. He isn’t supposed to be working yet, so he’s probably wondering why I’m here.
I hold up my hand to stop him from getting up. “Please, enjoy your nasty sandwich.”
He smiles, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Will do, Sire. Why such a long face, Prince?”
“I need you to keep an eye on Kimmel for me today.” I keep my voice low to make sure it doesn’t echo off these stone walls. The downside of living in an ancient castle. “Rosie has a meeting with him today. I really don’t trust the guy.” I run my hand over the copper countertop, taking a step toward Marcel.
He sips his tea and smashes his lips together. “Ah, yes. You can’t do it because it will look like you are trying to control the situation, and you want her to trust you.”
“Guilty,” I say.
“I see. Yes, that Kimmel is bad news. I will have to agree with you on that, Sire. I will be glad to keep an eye on her. You must really like Ms. Caldwell, yes?” he asks, picking his sandwich back up.
“I do. She’s the girl I met while I was in the States, Marcel.”
He lifts his brows and takes a bite, chewing slowly as he gathers his thoughts. “But wouldn’t you have known right away when you saw her, Sire?”
“I met her at a masked ball. I didn’t know what she looked like. We just had this amazing connection. She introduced herself as Rosie, and I introduced myself as Luca. We didn’t know any more about each other.” I sound like a lovestruck teenager.
His eyes light up when he remembers something. “The dinner tables. When we found out her name was Rosie; that’s when you knew.”
“Yes,” I say with a goofy grin, drunk on love.
“Why, isn’t that a song that just writes itself. Or maybe a book? Either would do.” He shoves the last bite of that gross sandwich in his mouth and finishes it off with tea. “I will be glad to help you, Sire. I’ll make them tea and bring it to them. I’m assuming they will be on the patio.”
“Yes, that’s where they will be. Thank you, Marcel. My gut is still me something bad is going to happen with that guy.”
“He doesn’t treat her kindly. She is a sweet girl, soft-spoken too. I wonder what happened in her life to make her so timid around others.”
“Timid? Why?”
“You can’t tell, Sire? She doesn’t like getting close to people, I’ve observed. Consider yourself one of the lucky few she accepts. Tell me, what do you plan on doing when she leaves?”
“Leaves? She isn’t leaving.” My jaw clenches at the thought of her ever leaving my side.
He hums as he stands, clearly not liking my answer. “You are aware you can’t stop her from going. She has a life back in the States. Even if it isn’t the best one. You’ll do well to remember that, sir.”
Damn, Marcel and his sense. “I’ll be going to see my mother. Okay? Keep me updated on anything.”
He bows, placing one hand on his midsection, and the other behind his back. “Yes, Sire.” He spins around, back straight and head held high. He really is so proper.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, wondering when the hell life got so damn complicated. I know I have to think about what Marcel said, but I just don’t want to. The thought of her leaving me; it tears me apart. I think I’m afraid she won’t come back to me. Like every man or boy, there is only one woman to talk about this with.
Mother. I don’t care that I’m thirty. Mom always gives the best advice. My hand slides against the thick, robust cement railing as I climb the steps. I love the castle. I love all the stone and originality my father kept of the place when doing renovations.
A million stairs later, I get to the top and stare at the only door on this floor. It’s huge. It’s pure oak with big, thick black hinges. I lift my hand to knock and hesitate. My hand lowers, and I take a few deep, calming breaths. My mom is fine. Nothing is wrong with her. Not that I would know, since Dad has hidden her away for two days.
“She’s fine. Just knock,” I tell myself before banging on the door.
“Who is it?” a sickly voice asks.
“It’s me, Mother. It’s Luca.” I roll my eyes. Of course it is… Who else calls her Mother? A few beats of silence pass, and the doorknob doesn’t move to let me in. “Mother?” I ask again, but all I receive in return is hesitation. Now I know something is wrong. I do something I’ve never done before. “Mom, I swear if you don’t let me in. I’m going to bust this door down.” I never threaten her, but I also never call her ‘Mom.’ It’s always Mother. Always has been. Formally, it sounds better, and when we are out and about in public, the king likes it like that.
“Come in,” she whispers weakly.
My hand lands on the cold doorknob a
nd twists. The hinges creak and groan and a glow from the fire comes into view when the door opens all the way. Mother is in her bed with fur comforters and millions of pillows. I dip my head again as I step forward, so I don’t knock myself out on the stone archway. They aren’t high enough around here for someone as tall as me. Shutting the wood behind me, the hinges sound again, making me wince.
My boots thud against the floor the closer I get to her. She lifts her hand, and I take it, looking down at her with concern. “Mother,” I say hysterically. Her hand is skin and bone, her face gaunt, her eyes tired with black circles. Her chest rises and falls like every breath is a struggle. “I don’t understand.”
“I know.” She pats my hand, trying to sit up, but it’s hard when she has fur comforters all over her. They are heavy, and she is weaker apparently, from whatever sickness this is.
“You didn’t just pass out from dehydration, did you?”
Her eyes soften, but another form of emotion flashes, and I know it well: guilt. My heart feels like it’s being crushed. She has never not been honest with me. “I’m sorry, Luca. It was your father’s wish to keep you in the dark.”
“To keep me in the dark… Are you kidding me? You’re my mother. I have the right to know these things.”
“I told him that, too, but you have a lot on your mind right now, and he didn’t want to worry you.”
“I’ve been worried with every day that passed that I didn’t see you. It’s why I brought it upon myself to come up here when Dad went to the village. He couldn’t keep me away this time.”
Her cold, frail hand lands on my face, and I lean into the palm that raised me. “Oh, my boy. I knew he couldn’t.”
I hold my hand against hers and stare into her tired eyes. “What’s going on? I need someone to talk to me because being left in the dark doesn’t feel great.”
