by Brynn Paulin
Even though I knew of Booker’s arguments with the queen, hearing this rumor from someone else was a punch in the gut. I hated being viewed as “the other woman.” Worse, I didn’t want anything tarnishing Booker’s reputation.
I decided right then, this woman was a bitch.
“She may be planning something, but it’s not my wedding. I am not now nor have I ever been engaged to Princess Athena. Actually, I’ve never met her,” Booker replied darkly, his arm tightening around me. “Marigold and I haven’t set our date yet, but it will be soon. I’m sure News Around the Nation will be one of the first networks to get the scoop. If you’ll excuse us, we need to head in, so we’ll be seated in time.”
“Smooth,” I murmured once we were several paces away. “Is it true about your mother? She’s actually still planning?”
“She’s being a pain in my ass,” he said against my temple, no doubt to avoid microphones detecting our private conversation. “She wants me to marry Athena, but I’ve told her no, more times than I can number. I don’t want Athena, and from what I know, Athena isn’t keen to marry the third son of the Zenderland monarchy. She’s a few years younger than me and has other plans for her life.”
Which meant she was between my age and Booker’s. He was a decade older than me—a real Doogie Houser MD of his time. He might have been a difficult child, but he was also a genius. By my age, he’d graduated university and been a year into med school. Now ten years later, he’d finished school, been through his interning and residency and was now two years into his private practice, which was unheard of. The ability to open his own office was only an option because of his wealth and not his frankly intimidating intelligence. Any way you sliced it up, he was a prince, a billionaire and so damn smart. The combo had made him a media superstar.
And here I was. Short, curvy, crappy background, and okay in the intelligence department. And I’d just told him this week I didn’t want to do college, that classes and I weren’t compatible.
I needed to get the hell over myself. Booker loved me. Booker didn’t care about my past beyond being pissed at the raw deal I’d been dealt. He didn’t look down on me. Just like he didn’t look down on the underprivileged he worked with. Did that make me one of his projects?
“What’s going on in your head?” he asked as we stepped inside the building. “You’re all tensed up.”
“Nothing. I’m good,” I said, forcing a smile.
“I don’t believe you,” he replied but didn’t press the issue. I knew it was coming.
Next thing I knew, we were in line at the ballroom. Some guy—a herald or something, I didn’t know—was announcing people as they arrived. The talk inside the room was quiet, in low tones, so the man’s voice boomed out over the discussions. It seemed weird to me. I’d never been to a big event where it didn’t sound like a dull roar when everyone was chatting. Didn’t these people like each other?
“I hate when they do this,” Booker muttered.
“Do what?” As I’d never been to something like this, I had no idea what was unusual here. I was just holding onto my prince for dear life, hoping not to get swept away in a tide of overwhelm.
“The announcement thing.”
“They only do it when Booker is here,” I heard from behind me. Cricket!
I turned and gave her a hug. “I’m so glad to see you!”
“We’re seated together, so Booker and I will flank you.”
Brix cleared his throat. His gaze devoured his wife as she grinned up at him. God, that man loved her. I was glad. She deserved it. After hanging out with her, I knew Cricket was good people.
“Oh, babe, you get to flank me,” she assured him.
“Damn right I do,” he growled.
“Such a caveman.”
Booker kissed my temple. “We’re next,” he said, drawing my attention. “Don’t worry, I’ve got your flank, too.”
He tapped me low on the hip.
“Prince Booker,” I teased in faux horror.
He smirked, and I was glad he was having fun. He’d been so tense before. As he lightened up, it drew me along with him. Having my friend here helped, too.
“Where’s Adler?” I asked, noticing he was gone.
“Once we’re inside, protection officers go to a different entrance. He’ll survey the sidelines while we traverse this circus.
“What did Cricket mean about this only happening when you’re here?”
“I guess it’s conceited to claim it’s only when I’m at an event. These particular event planners do it when there are any royals attending, like having us announced like this is more regal or something.”
He pulled a small card from his pocket and handed it to the “yeller” as we stepped into the entryway.
The man nodded. “Prince Booker Christian Edward Grammer of Zenderland escorting Miss Marigold Grey.”
The rooms chatter seemed to both increase and decrease at the same time, though maybe it was just the tone shifting. I felt heat rising into my cheeks as we were stared at. Somehow, it was different from outside.
We walked farther inside so the Brixtons could be introduced, and an attendant rushed up to us. “May I show you to your seats?”
“Actually, the couple behind us is at the same table. Let’s wait a moment, and you can show all four of us.”
The girl looked uncomfortable, like that was a huge breach in protocol but she dared not to tell the prince that. A moment later, Brix and Cricket were with us and we were on our way. We were at the front of the room—I guess it was the front, anyway—right in front of a dais with a podium and microphone.
“So is there a silent auction or something?” I asked. I was pretty sure they didn’t do raffles at one of these things. Gosh, I had no clue. I felt completely out of my element.
“No,” Cricket said. “The plates are about a million dollars each for a couple pieces of asparagus, rice and chicken no one will admit is dry.” She looked at her husband. “You better feed me later.”
“Of course, Princess.”
“It won’t be that bad,” Booker assured me. “The cheesecake will probably be good.”
It was. But the best part of the evening, at least at the gala, was watching Booker receive his award then give his speech. He stood tall and impressive and one-thousand percent regal up there, as he presented impassioned words that brought tears to my eyes and deepened my desire to help those in need, too.
This man. His family should be so pleased with him.
“You’re amazing,” I whispered when he came back. “I’m so overwhelmed and proud of you.”
His lips parted in surprise, then he smiled. “No one’s ever said that.”
“What?”
“No one’s ever told me that. It was just…expected. I either heard ‘good speech’ or ‘that could have been better.’ Never praise like that.”
“Well, they had to be thinking it. No one could hear you speak and not be moved.”
“Thank you, love. Speaking of moving… Fifteen minutes and we’re out of here.”
Chapter Thirteen
~ Marigold ~
“That was fun,” Cricket commented, drawing me from my haze. We sat at one of the patio tables at a coffee shop near campus. Despite Booker telling me I didn’t need to go to school if I didn’t want to, I’d decided it was my best choice. Not because I didn’t trust him to care for me as he’d promised, but because I wanted to make a difference in the world. After last night, I wanted that more than ever. What could I say, my man inspired me.
“It was. I’m surprised, though. I thought it would be awful.”
“Ugh, it usually is. Sometimes, I feel like I need to fight off climbers with a bat. Not that I need to worry. My Elijah is perplexed and annoyed by them.”
It took me a second to remember Brix’s real name was Elijah Brixton, not Brix Brixton. Which made sense. My brain was computing things really slow this morning.
She sipped her decaf mocha. “And then when
it’s not the climbers it’s everyone who wants to talk to him about investments and venture projects. I might as well not be there for all they care—and that more than annoys my cavemen. It pisses him off. But heaven forbid one of those men even glances at me. You’d think they were all out to steal me.”
“Why wouldn’t they? You’re gorgeous.”
She laughed. “Stop. I already like you.”
I shook my head. She confused me, but it could be my exhaustion.
I hid a yawn behind my hand. Truly, I was in a fog after the gala and all the sex last night. Once we’d gotten home, it was as if Booker was on some mission to fuck me as many times as possible. Every time I’d started to fall asleep, he’d be hard and ready again. Like he had some inhuman superpower—the power of eternal erection or something. I suppressed a giggle, not wanting to explain the source of my amusement.
I wasn’t sure what was up with how insatiable he’d been, but I wasn’t really complaining other than being exhausted today.
“Sorry…sorry…” he’d muttered at one point. “I just…need you. Fuck, I need you.”
“I’m yours,” I’d promised.
All I could guess was that something at the fundraiser/award ceremony had triggered him. Tonight, I’d find out what it was—if I could stay awake that long.
“So you got something to tell me?” Cricket asked, dragging me back to the present once more. I was a pretty sucky friend today.
“About what?”
“I heard Booker announce your engagement.” She glanced at my ring finger. “You didn’t tell me.”
“Yeah, well, it was news to me, too.”
“Oh, one of those. Brix kind of told me we were getting married, too. Way before he asked. Announced it to his bitch assistant then slipped the ring on my finger. It never came off.”
I wiggled my fingers at her. “No ring.”
“Yet.”
“I don’t know. I think he just said it for the reporter’s sake, to make her leave me alone and keep her from asking me embarrassing questions.”
“I highly doubt that. I’ve known Booker just slightly longer than you, but he doesn’t strike me as someone who would say something he couldn’t back up later. And um…so…don’t be obvious, but do you know that guy across the street? He’s been standing there staring at us for over five minutes. It’s not my bodyguard, and it’s not Adler. He looks too…skeezy. Maybe he’s not even looking at us, but…it’s weird.”
I nodded as if answering her and lifted my cup to my lips. I did a slow nonchalant scan of the area, keeping my eyes going as if I were searching for someone. I was careful not to stop on skeezy guy, even though seeing him made my blood go cold. When I was looking behind me down the street, I craned my neck as if seeking out someone in particular.
I turned back to her and shook my head as if I didn’t see whoever I was looking for. “Yeah, I know exactly who it is,” I said at the same time.
That guy wasn’t just staring. He was glowering at me. Rod.
I calmly set down my cup as if I hadn’t seen him and tilted my head, shrugging. All the while, I remembered the last time I’d seen him and he’d grabbed me. Terror roiled in my belly. Sure, I’d been practicing defense moved with Adler almost every day, but facing Rod terrified me.
I took a deep breath. Though Adler wasn’t obvious, Booker didn’t let me go anywhere without the guard ever since the billionaire-prince had claimed me.
“Is your bodyguard nearby?” I asked.
“He’s at the table with Adler,” she replied. I couldn’t see that, since they were behind me. “You know that guy?”
“Yeah. He used to be my neighbor before I ended up with Booker. Last time I talked to him, he called to say he had info on my sister and tried to grab me. Adler stopped him from taking me. But since he didn’t do anything worth calling the cops, beyond grabbing my arm, there was nothing we could do. It still scared the hell out of me.”
“Do you want to leave?”
I took a shuddery breath and nodded. “Yes.”
Yes, I was pleasantly exhausted from last night, but I was so damn tired of being scared. I just wanted to find my sister and for Rod to leave me the hell alone.
We exited the patio, entering the coffee shop then leaving out the back. Our bodyguards were immediately at our sides.
“Rod was across the street, staring at us,” I told Adler. A muscle ticked in his cheek, and he looked pissed.
“Got them?” he asked Cricket’s guy.
“Yeah.”
Adler took off, and we were loaded into a waiting SUV. We took off without my bodyguard rejoining us. Was he confronting Rod or trying to track him down? The jerk was creeping me out, and even though I always had a guard now, he worried me.
I was glad classes were done, and we could go home. Once I was safe behind the closed, alarmed door, I intended to crawl in bed and sleep for a few hours. I should probably let Booker know the plan.
I’m on my way home, I texted, but I didn’t hear back from him. He was probably in with a patient. He’d message me when he saw it.
Cricket’s bodyguard took us each to our respective penthouses, and I sighed a breath of relief as I sagged against the wall by the door. Ygrid had left a pile of mail on the console table, but I barely glanced at it. There was never any for me.
Except, this time, I noticed there were two piles. Curious, I wandered over. One stack was for Booker. A single envelope sat to the other side. My name had been written on it in scripty handwriting.
Huh? Who tracked me down here?
I opened the flap then stared at the thick, cream-colored parchment I pulled out.
Royal Highnesses the King and Queen of Zenderland
request the pleasure of your company at the Marriage of
His Royal Highness Prince Booker of Zenderland
With
Her Royal Highness Princess Athena of Finealia
At St. Constantine’s Chapel, Gram Castle
On Saturday, 20th October at 12 Noon
Followed by a Reception at Gram Castle
The invitation dropped from my fingers, and I backed away. What the hell…?
He lied to me all this time! All this time. No…
My hand covered my stomach. I felt sick, my coffee threatening to reappear. Oh God…
I gave myself to him. I’d been sleeping with him, living with him, making plans and the entire time he’d been lying to me. He’d been engaged to someone else. I was so stupid! We hadn’t even been using protection the whole time, because I was his “one and only.”
My fingers pressed over my mouth, and I ran for the nearest bathroom. Dropping to my knees before the toilet, I lost the coffee and scone I’d had at the cafe. It burned up my throat. Echoing pain churned through me. Angry tears filled my eyes.
With an arm wrapped around my middle, I doubled over, folding in on myself. My forehead pressed to the cold tile floor as I sobbed.
He told me he loved me.
I loved him, but he was marrying someone else.
He lied to me.
How could I love someone who’d done that, someone who kept part of himself hidden. A cheater. I couldn’t stay with him; that was for sure.
My hand flattened on the floor to push me up.
“Love,” Booker exclaimed. He skidded in next to me, dropping to his knees. He didn’t wait for me to move. Freaked out, he pulled me into his lap, rocking me and holding me tight to his chest.
“Don’t!” I exclaimed, still sobbing. Weakly, I tried to push away, but his hold was like iron.
“It’s a lie. I swear it’s a lie,” he vowed. “I am not marrying anyone but you! I promise. I give you my solemn vow. No one but you. There never will be. You’re mine, and I’m yours. I’m so sorry she did that. I’m furious. She had no right to do something so horrible to manipulate both of us.”
“Booker,” I cried. “Booker…I…”
“Shh…I promise. I’m only yours. Only yours.” Still cr
adling me, he lifted me and carried me upstairs.
“I have to brush my teeth,” I muttered into his shirt. I’d never been so relieved.
“Okay, love,” he answered, kissing my temple. “Let’s take a shower together. Wash away the stress then climb into bed together.”
“All right,” I whispered. He set me before the vanity, emptied his pockets onto the counter then went over to start the shower while I cleaned my mouth. As the multiple showerheads sprang to life, he stripped off the charcoal suit he’d worn to work. I watched in the mirror as each inch of golden skin was revealed.
Quickly, I finished brushing and rinsing as he walked back to me. His fingers threaded into my hair, and he kissed me, the play of his lips over mine so utterly tender, so utterly sweet. Slowly, he unbuttoned my shirt and pushed it off. My pants were next. He drew back, his eyes locking with mine before he reached to unfasten my bra. It was almost as if he were asking permission because I’d been so upset.
Biting my lip, I nodded. He released the clasp, and I shrugged helping it fall away. After he slid my panties down my legs, he skimmed his fingers over my pussy then splayed them over my stomach. His eyes closed for a moment, and he smiled.
“What?” I asked, smiling back at him.
He shook his head. Then reached beyond me to the counter. I heard rustling, then he sank to his knees.
His hand lifted between us, revealing a gleaming solitaire. “Marigold, I will never lie to you. You are my heart and the sustainer of my soul. There’s no one for me but you. There never will be. I want to be your everything. Will you be my princess? Will you marry me?”
I gasped then breathed hard as I took it in. My mouth moved, no words coming out. Needing to connect with him, I threaded my fingers through his hair. “You…” I finally said. “You’re already everything.”
“Will you?”
“Yes.” I nodded “Yes. I love you.”
“I love you, too.” And with those words, he slid the ring onto my finger. He kissed it then stood and pulled me into his arms. His mouth sealed over mine, and we groaned together as our bodies connected once more. Lifting me, he carried me into the spacious shower. Tenderly, he washed me, while at the same time caressing my body, stroking me into a frenzy.
