Spiked Roses: The Complete Top Shelf Series

by Alta Hensley

  “Be careful, man. If you need us…” Harley said.

  “Silas knows to contact you all if things get fucked,” I said more at Harley than the rest of the men. I knew if anyone could get me out of a death sentence, it would be him.

  “Can someone still explain what the initiation is exactly? What are the details?” Kenneth asked.

  “I’ll let Alec fill you all in,” I said as I walked toward the door. “I need to go pick up Cheri.”

  I left the room without giving them a chance to say or ask anything else. Unless you walked in my shoes, and lived my life, it would be impossible to understand. Ancient rituals were part of my heritage. I wouldn’t be able to escape if I wanted to. But that was if I wanted to… which I didn’t. It was time for the initiation to begin. It would be the first step in making Cheri my wife.

  Cheri

  I didn’t have keys on me to my mother’s home, but I was pretty sure she had staff still present. If Roman was supplementing her income—or lack of it—then I couldn’t possibly imagine her not having a full staff to oversee the house. My father had loved New Orleans when he was still alive. It was French enough for him, had European history present that he appreciated, but possessed an American flair that he had simply loved. Prince Roman’s family had believed the same which is why Roman and I had grown up together. We traveled around the world together, but New Orleans had always been home and where we had spent the majority of our time.

  Our estate was obviously much smaller than the one Roman’s family owned, but it still was grand in every way. After my father’s death, some had expected my mother and me to downsize, but my mother believed doing so was for commoners—and we were far from commoners in her eyes. My mother was meant to be the princess… not me.

  I was happy to see lights on in the house when I pulled up in the circular driveway. After paying the driver, I hopped out with nothing more than my purse. My assumption was that Silas already had my luggage delivered to the house since that man took care of every single detail both big and small.

  Before I could knock on the door to have someone allow me in, the door opened and a familiar face stood on the other side.

  “Hello, Smith,” I said, hoping I had his name right. My mother had hired him shortly before I left, so I didn’t have a chance to get to know him. She wasn’t one for keeping the help for long. Her demands were hard to fulfill.

  “Hello, Miss. Mr. Roope told me to expect your arrival.” He stepped back to allow me to enter the house. “I have your old room prepared for you, and your luggage has been brought up and waiting. I did not take the liberty to unpack unless you would like me to.” His words came out very cold and matter-of-fact, which in all honesty, was not unexpected from a man I barely knew. It wasn’t like he was going to hug me and welcome me home.

  “I can do it. Thank you,” I said as I walked into the main room, taking in the familiar setting. My mother was not one for changing décor. She spent a lot of money to obtain the furniture, vases, artwork and every decorative item and took pride in each one. I didn’t expect to find anything out of place, and it actually gave me a sense of comfort, and a sense of home regardless of how cold and sterile that home was. I learned at a very young age not to touch or move anything in the house. Every single item had a place, and it was never to be disturbed unless it was being dusted—which was something only the help did

  “Don’t touch the figurines,” my mother had said. “Look with your eyes; not with your hands.”

  I turned to find Smith already gone, to do what exactly, I had no idea. Especially with my mother out of town. Taking one last look at a room I had spent very little time in while growing up here and inhaling deeply, I walked toward the massive staircase leading to my room. At least in my own room, I could touch things.

  I had a date with the Prince Roman tonight. Cameras, important people, crowds, and all eyes would be on me. I hated the very thought of it, but also knew it was my reality. I guess I should try to look dignified and not like the hobo washed up on the shores of Mexico like many people of my past no doubt expected me to appear.

  Just as I took the first step, the front door opened with the energy of a tornado entering the house.

  “Cherise! My Cherise,” my mother said as she rushed to me, kissing me on both sides of the face. “When I heard that Silas was going to bring you back from… from—”

  “Costa Rica,” I answered for her.

  “Yes, Costa Rica. I cut my trip short and chartered the first jet home.” She pulled back to look at me from head to toe. “You’ve managed to not gain weight eating all that Mexican food down there. Good. Good.”

  I struggled not to roll my eyes, and didn’t even bother trying to correct her in her assumptions. I had learned a long time ago that efforts to change my mother in her actions or beliefs were futile.

  A man in a sharp suit walked in behind her, carrying luggage which I knew was only the beginning. I could bet serious money there were more pieces in the town car parked out front.

  “You can leave the suitcases there,” she directed without even looking at the man. “I will have someone take care of those.”

  Again, I struggled to not roll my eyes. God forbid my mother actually unpacked her own suitcases or even bothered to wheel a small one into the house. My father had spoiled her, and from what I could guess, her father did as well. My mother didn’t know anything but rich and famous. Unlike me, she never had a desire to walk away from it, even for a short time, to breathe and live a normal life. My mother didn’t know what normal was. Nor did she care. Those beliefs were those belonging to commoners… and yes, yes… we were not commoners.

  “So?” she asked. “Is it finally happening?”

  I nodded as I held up my finger showing off the engagement ring.

  She instantly took my hand and examined the ring. “Well, it is certainly pretty. Classy and elegant. I know young women these days prefer the vintage look, though I do wish the diamond was bigger. Something a little flashier since you are going to be a princess after all. But no worries in that regard. You can always upgrade as an anniversary gift.”

  “I like the ring, Mother.”

  “Oh yes, I imagine you do.” She took hold of my arm and led me to the room I was just in. This really must be a special occasion because she actually had us sitting down on the couch that was once owned by Louis XIV or something like that. “When did he propose?”

  “Today.”

  Though my mother was asking me the questions a mother would ask her daughter about an engagement, there was not the kind of excitement you would expect between us. I suppose it was because this engagement was expected.

  “And the wedding? Has a date been set yet?”

  “No.”

  “Good. We need plenty of time. There are going to be a lot of details to arrange. We will have to work closely with the royal family. I do hope they let us hire the wedding coordinator because I know the perfect person. And as for the wedding dress, I already have the designer in mind.”

  “Mother,” I said calmly, as I struggled to not snap at her. “Roman and I have to still be engaged for a little while. I need some time to accept and try to enjoy this step. I think planning the wedding before we have even publically announced that we are getting married is a little fast. Please, can we slow down?”

  “I know you think you have all the time in the world, but a wedding takes time. We have to get started right away.” Yes, this was my mother. Nothing you could say or do would change her mind. She was always right.

  Sighing, I stood. “I need to get ready for my date with Roman.”

  Her eyes lit up. “Oh this is exciting. By tomorrow morning, the entire world will know that you will soon be Princess Cherise Cassian.”

  Princess.

  Yes, I would soon be a princess.

  Chapter Eight

  Roman

  Cheri was always stunning in appearance, but tonight even more so. She had a natural beauty tha
t I loved. It was so unlike most women I had been around or saw today. Her wavy hair flowed without restrictions most of the time, but tonight, she had it pulled back in an elegant twist with some wayward waves framing her face. Her bright blue eyes were highlighted with makeup which, even though I loved her au naturel, sparkled mesmerizingly in the light of the foyer of her mother’s house. Cheri wasn’t pretentious which was another thing I loved about her. Her attire was always simple and inexpensive. The girl hated to waste money. But tonight, I could tell she had made an effort to fit in with the royal image with the black dress and black pumps she wore. Classy, elegant, but still so genuine and pure.

  “You are absolute perfection,” I said as I leaned in to gently kiss her lips. “When the cameras get a hold of you tonight, every man in the world will envy me.”

  She rolled her eyes and sighed deeply. “I wish there was a way to avoid the paparazzi. I’m not sure I’m ready for this.”

  “I try to avoid them normally and have gotten pretty good at it. I only use them when I need to. Like tonight. We need the media to get wind that I am engaged. They will spot that ring a mile away, pictures will be snapped, and we will be on the cover of everything tomorrow. Silas is already leaking where we will be tonight. It’s controlled chaos, I suppose.”

  “Sounds lovely.” Her sarcasm wasn’t lost on me.

  “And short-lived. After tonight, we will get a break from the flashing lights.”

  “Oh really?” she said with a raised eyebrow and a tiny step back—leaving the smell of her perfume behind. “You have this all planned out, do you?”

  “I do.”

  “So how exactly do you plan to get us away from all the media? I think the minute they know we are engaged, there will be no escaping them. They’ll be camped outside in the front yard.”

  “We’ll be going away for a period of time,” I said as if it were a fact and not asking if she wanted to or not.

  “Where?”

  “I’ll explain over dinner,” I said, ushering her toward the door.

  Cheri

  Roman had always been a bossy son of a bitch—part of his makeup as being born into royalty—but age seemed to morph his bossiness to dominance. Sexy as fuck dominance.

  The drive to St. Charles Street didn’t take long, and we had sat in silence the entire way. Roman was in the middle of texting, and from the look on his face, it seemed important enough for me to not bother him or give him a hard time for using his phone in my presence. Prince Roman was no longer the child I remembered. He was now a businessman, and obviously a powerful man. I was going to have to get used to that fact, and that his work would have to play a part in our new daily lives. I also didn’t mind the silence. It gave me time to really process everything that was about to happen in my life. I had just agreed to marry a man I had loved my entire life. But he was no ordinary man, and did not lead the life of a normal man. My entire world was about to become organized chaos.

  A deep groan erupted from the depths of my chest as we pulled up in front of the restaurant. There were at least twenty or so photographers standing ready with cameras in hand. The flashing had already begun as if they could sense the black town car belonged to us—though I was pretty sure Silas had already tipped them off that we would be arriving and at what time.

  “The driver is going to open our door, and security will be waiting to guide us in. I will step out first and reach for your hand. Reach for me with your left hand. We want the first thing they take a photo of to be the diamond ring. As soon as they see it, which will be immediately, they will start asking questions. Don’t answer them. It will be hard to see with all the flashes, so just smile and stare ahead. I will guide you inside and security will be on both sides of us so no one can get too close. Remember, don’t answer any questions or say anything at all. Just walk as if you can’t hear them or see them. Don’t look at them. Just straight ahead or at me,” Roman instructed when the car came to a stop.

  I was grateful for the tinted windows to allow me a minute to gather my courage. I had had my picture taken in the past whenever I was in the presence of the royal family, but it had been a long time ago. Plus, this time would be different. All eyes would be on me.

  “I don’t know that I can do this,” I confessed. I was about to ask for the driver to keep going when Roman took my face into the palms of his hands.

  Staring into my eyes, he said softly, “You can. I will be with you every step of the way. No one is going to hurt you or even come near you. I won’t allow anything to happen. I give you my word on that.”

  I nodded, but my heart beat so hard in my chest, I worried that Roman would practically have to carry me inside due to me fainting.

  “Once we’re inside the restaurant, the media won’t be allowed to follow. But be aware that there will be several people using their phones to capture our every move. Some will be media professionals acting as patrons, and others will be diners who will upload the video or sell it the minute they can. Don’t let your guard down. Just look at me. Tune everyone else out,” he continued with his firm guidance.

  I nodded and swallowed hard. Roman reached out for my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. I took a deep breath and said, “I’m ready.”

  The car door opened.

  My left hand extended.

  I clung to Roman as if my life depended on it.

  I smiled.

  But nothing could have prepared me for the colossal tidal wave that crashed down upon me. The deafening sound of clicking cameras had my head spinning. The shouts from the photographers were so plentiful that I wouldn’t have been able to answer one question even if I hadn’t been instructed to remain silent. If I hadn’t been guided by Roman’s hand wrapped securely around me, I don’t think I would have made it to the entrance of the restaurant. The flashing lights were blinding, and I struggled to keep my eyes open against the brightness.

  “Is that an engagement ring?”

  “Are you two engaged?”

  “Who is the mystery woman?”

  “Prince Roman, are you finally settling down?”

  “Will there be a royal wedding sometime soon?”

  “What does King Cassian say about the future princess?”

  Roman tightened his hold around my lower ribcage and leaned his lips down to my ear. I thought I heard him whisper, “Almost there. You’re doing great. You’re a natural.”

  Natural? Never. Never could I ever get used to this madness. But as I glanced up to look upon Roman’s flawless face, and his fake but perfect smile, I knew this was a madness I was willing to live for him. He was my Prince Charming in this dark lunacy, and I would wear my tiara proudly.

  We were ushered to a table toward the rear of the room. I could feel the eyes of the diners searing into my exposed flesh. I knew every single inch of me was being judged. Why was I the lucky one chosen to marry a prince? Why did he choose me out of all the women he could choose in the world? What did I have that they didn’t?

  Hell if I knew the answer to those questions.

  Roman pulled my chair out for me and kissed me lightly on the cheek before I sat. He then took his seat and for the first time since exiting the car, I took a deep breath and smiled. A real smile.

  “That was pure insanity,” I said. “Is this really your life?” I tried to keep my voice down, but luckily the diners had gone back to their own conversations, so there was a nice safe hum to the room and my voice wouldn’t be heard by anyone other than Roman.

  He returned the smile. “I know this is hard to believe, but you get used to it.”

  “I can’t see that happening.”

  “You will. It sucks, and it definitely changes how I have to live my life, but there are perks as well.”

  “You get to live like a king,” I said as I reached for the glass of water in front of me to help soothe the lump that had remained there since the media circus.

  “Yes, I get to live like a king.”

  “All of this make
s me miss Costa Rica. It was quiet there. Relaxing.”

  The waiter came to our table and Roman quickly ordered us a bottle of wine, some appetizers and even our dinner. He rambled everything off so quickly that I wasn’t even aware of what I was going to eat. For a split second, the feminist in me got fired up, but the romantic part of me soothed the flames. Roman could be an arrogant prick at times, but the man was a gentleman through and through. Etiquette and manners ran through his veins and had been inbred in his core. The man knew how to treat a lady.

  Once the waiter left with our order, he said, “I promise we will vacation in Costa Rica so you won’t miss it for long. It may be shocking to believe this since I’ve traveled most of the world, but I have actually never been there before.” He paused for a moment as his gaze bore into mine. “Why did you go?”

  I shrugged. “I had heard it was beautiful and it seemed wild and free. It was a place unlike anywhere my parents took me on holiday. No way would my mother step foot anywhere in South America, so it was the perfect place for me.”

  “To rebel,” Roman said.

  “To figure out who I was as a person,” I corrected. “It may have seemed like rebellion, but it was a necessity. I felt like the world I was living in was swallowing me whole. Everything was so planned and choreographed. My entire life and future was mapped out for me.”

  “To marry me.”

  I shook my head and paused as the waiter came to our table and opened our wine. I held my words as Roman tasted the small sample poured into his glass and nodded his approval. When the waiter left, I said, “Why I left had nothing to do with you. I wasn’t running away from you or from marrying you.”

  “It felt like it,” Roman confessed.

  “I loved you,” I said softly. “So much so, that it scared me. I could see how the women flocked around you. I knew that everyone would have done anything to be your bride. I also knew I was chosen, but not chosen by you. Deep down, I believed that you wouldn’t marry me unless you had to. It was your royal duty.” I took a sip of my wine and took a moment to enjoy the rich flavors dancing along my tongue. “I suppose that I believed at the time that if I sort of vanished, you would figure out a way to marry someone you chose and live your life.” I took another sip, buying time to admit another truth that I wasn’t sure I wanted to share. “Plus, I knew it was unrealistic for us to both marry after only having had sex with each other. At least for you.” When Roman opened his mouth to speak, I cut him off by raising my hand and saying, “Which is completely normal. I couldn’t expect you to never be curious or have desires for other women. You needed that, and frankly so did I. But there was no way my heart would be able to sit back and watch that happen. I didn’t want to see you lie and cheat. It would have destroyed me. So, I left so we could grow up and live life. So we could both experience other things and other people.”