Washed Up Royal

by Karr, Kim

  “Are you certain?” Rachel asks.

  I blow a piece of stray hair from my eyes. “Yes, now go, all of you and stop spying on me out the window.”

  “Where would you like drinks served, Your Royal Highness?” William inquires.

  “Under the pergola near the dock, if you don’t mind, and then I want all of you to go about your own business. You too.” I point to my bodyguard. “Your services are not needed this evening. I won’t be leaving the property, and I will be fine.”

  As four unhappy people make their way back into the house, Adrien kneels down beside me. Almost instantly, awareness sizzles between us, as if a fire has been set. “Are you certain you’re all right?”

  I peer up at him from underneath my lashes and then brush my hands together. “Yes, other than embarrassed, I’m fine.”

  His dark eyes and sensual smile appraise me, and then his lips quirk into a half smile when he offers me assistance. “Don’t be. They’re just doing their jobs.”

  “I mean about falling.”

  “Yes, well, maybe you should remove your shoes.”

  I narrow my gaze at him.

  With a snicker, he says, “Perhaps we could continue with our conversation somewhere a bit more private?”

  Relief scurries through my belly. “Yes, I’d like a drink,” I say by way of agreement as I get to my feet.

  Something predatory sparks in his eyes when his hand comes up and cups my elbow, his fingers splaying possessively over my skin.

  I close my eyes for a brief moment, enjoying the electric sensation that sizzles through my body.

  He starts to lead me up the porch stairs, but I stop just as I take the first step and point to the path leading toward the beach. “Let’s go around, shall we?”

  The breeze coming off the water blows through his hair and he uses his free hand to push it away. “Who’s place is this, anyway? I’m not familiar with it.”

  “It’s the Montgomery estate,” I offer at level height with him from my place on the step.

  Letting go of his hold on me, his brows shoot up. “As in your ex-fiancé?”

  Hmmm…he did he research. I’m impressed. “Yes.” I step down and reach for his hand. “Maximus was kind enough to offer it to me.”

  Reluctantly, he curls his fingers around mine. “Right, to find a husband after you dumped him,” he grumbles, his tone harsh.

  “I didn’t dump him. We broke up because, although we love each other, we weren’t in love. Once my father passed away, I didn’t feel obligated to follow through with the commitment of our arranged marriage.”

  His eyes roam over me and I can tell he’s trying to process what I’ve told him.

  I let the quiet beat of the moment hang between us.

  “Just how many men have you had here?” he asks, breaking the silence, a tad of perhaps jealousy dancing in the deep of his eyes.

  Letting go of his hand, I stop and whirl to face him, a blast of irritation fisting my belly. “I don’t have men,” I bite out.

  His brows pop, stunned at my rebuttal he backpedals. “I didn’t mean have as in a sexual nature.”

  Certainly he did, but the embarrassment of the entire situation isn’t worth nitpicking words over. “Well, just so know, I’m only doing this because I have to.”

  There’s a bit on contriteness in his stare now. “Yes, that clause in the Vespa Isles ancient law mandating a woman must have a spouse before taking the throne. I’m aware of it.”

  Now even more irritated for some reason, I place my hands on my hips. “So you’re up to date on Royal law?”

  He shrugs and keeps walking. “My cousin is in town and has told me about it. His sister keeps him abreast.”

  “Well, I’d abolish it if I could.”

  “But since you can’t, you’re interviewing for a husband of Royal blood.” His tone is harsh and a bit removed.

  The fragrant scent of lavender fills the air, and I stop to bend and pick a piece of it. “As embarrassing of a situation as it puts me in, yes I am,” I freely admit, feeling like this pretty much the same as having a suitor picked for me.

  Adrien is still striding in front of me, and over his shoulder he asks, “Is Spencer Lexington one of the men you’ve seen or are planning on seeing?”

  I bring the flower to my nose. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I had breakfast with him on his yacht this morning.”

  He whirls around and pulls me to him, hard and possessive, causing the flower to fall to the ground. “I’ll take the position. I don’t want you talking to anyone else, especially him again. Understand?”

  The puff of laughter just comes out from all his cocky arrogance. “No, I don’t understand. I haven’t even offered the position to you.”

  His stare is hot as fire, wicked. “You can pretend all you want that this interlude is an interview, but we both know that no matter what happens, I’ll end up buried deep inside you before the night is over.”

  Heat rushes through my body like an inferno. No one has ever spoken to me like that, and why in the world do I want more?

  More of his dirty talk.

  His power.

  Him and all his absoluteness.

  Him.

  I keep walking, unable to speak for worry I will pull his lips to mine and tell him he’s right. That I decided on him the moment I saw him on the sailboat. That’s not true. I decided on him the night I met him in Paris.

  The estate is enormous, but the warm glow of the torches makes it easy to wind our way through the garden. When we near a set of benches, though, I take a seat. “I want to explain my situation to you and how I got here in its entirety before we go any further or make any decisions.”

  He shoves his hands in his pockets. “You don’t have to.”

  “I know, but I want to.”

  When he sits across from me, I feel vulnerable and raw, like someone is opening me up and peering inside, and still, I tell him everything. About Maximus, about my father, my uncle, Rachel and Ava too, even the men I’ve interviewed and how I couldn’t stop thinking of him with each and every one. “And now you’re here,” I say, “and I have no idea if I can ask you to take this leap with me because all I want is for us to unfold in a normal, natural way. Not be forced together to beat some ancient clause.”

  With the sexiest movement of his chin, he motions me toward him. “Come here.”

  I simply stare at him, unmoving.

  Now that he knows exactly what I need, I can tell from the look in his eyes he’s not sold on the idea, although he hasn’t ruled out the possibility.

  “Come here so I can kiss you.” His words wrap around me like a balm, and within seconds I find myself straddling him in the most unroyal fashion. It’s like I don’t care if he’s in or out, all I care about is him.

  Him.

  Having him.

  Gorgeous, beautiful him.

  Almost immediately, he slides a hand around my neck and curls his fingers at my nape.

  Possessive.

  Strong.

  Virile.

  When he slams his lips to mine, I go liquid against him. He licks over my mouth, pressing, demanding me to open, and I completely melt. With a breathless gasp, I surrender, parting my mouth so his tongue can slide inward.

  “You taste so sweet,” he growls around our kiss.

  There’s a throat clearing behind us and I jerk back, jumping to my feet. “Princess Victoria,” Rachel says, “I hate to bother you, but Ava and I are going to go into town, and I wanted to make sure you were still planning on attending Saturday’s polo match before I leave. I have to RSVP first thing in the morning.”

  The polo match is where I’d intended to bring my chosen candidate to in order to test the waters of being together in public. “Yes,” I tell her and then glance down to see Adrien running a hand down his face. “Would you like to join me?” I ask him.

  “Polo?” he rolls his eyes. “I fucking hate Polo.”

  Biting back my laughter, I no
d, and try to block out the image of him on the horse, in tight pants, with all of his hardness on display.

  He shakes his head.

  “Please,” I insist, not above getting on my knees and begging if I must.

  Thank goodness it doesn’t come to that. “Sure, but only if you promise to come sailing with me tomorrow.”

  A bargain.

  A trade.

  Sure. Why not?

  I give him a bright, happy smile. “I love sailing. It’s a deal.”

  “So, Princess, should I cancel the remaining interviews?”

  “Yes, you should, Ms. Smart,” Adrien replies for me.

  “Oh,” she giggles. “And Princess?”

  “Yes, Rachel.”

  “We’ll be home late.”

  “Thank you, Rachel.”

  “Ms. Smart,” Adrien calls.

  She whirls around. “Yes Prince Adrien?”

  “It’s just Adrien. And did you know there are over five thousand Rachel Smarts in the United States. Finding you would be like finding a needle in a haystack.”

  “Finding me?”

  “To find Tori,” he tells her.

  “Well then, it might have been even worse because I don’t live here.”

  “And there’s that,” he smarts and gets to his feet, offering me his hand.

  Obviously, he had planned on looking for me, and that makes me giddy.

  “Shall we, Princess Victoria,” he says with a bow that I know is meant in jest.

  Still, I shake my head. “Please don’t call me that. When I’m with you I want to be anything but Royal.”

  “Tori,” he corrects, with a gleam in his eye. “You want to be dirty with me, don’t you?”

  Clearly, he can read the way I’m blushing from head to toe. “I want to be everything with you.”

  His eyes go a light with fire and he laughs mischievously, sending those butterflies flitting around my belly.

  As we start along the path toward the beach, I gaze up at the bright stars in the sky. “Thank you for agreeing to come with me tomorrow.”

  Drawing me to his side, the callused skin of his hand on bare flesh is eclectic. “There’s nothing I won’t do to get you in my bed and keep you there,” he tells me, so hot and heavy I want to strip him down right here.

  The sweet sound of jazz filters through the air as we reach the beach, and I know right away Ava has been at play. “What if I told you that’s where I want to be?” I tell him, glancing up.

  His eyes are hot and hungry as he stares down at me, “Then I’d tell you your search is over. However, in full disclosure, you should know, I came here tonight because I have an agenda of my own.”

  “Maybe we should discuss this over a drink?” I point to the bottle of Prosecco and the flutes beside it.

  “Dance with me first,” he murmurs close to my ear, and then without waiting for me to agree, he pulls me into his arms.

  “Oh,” I gasp when his hips meet mine and I melt and flow so perfectly against his body. We fit together seamlessly—and it’s hard to tell where I end and where he begins.

  Soon, he rests his cheek against the side of my head as his arms encircle me, and he tells me all about Eastwood and King Rutherford’s plan to legalize gambling throughout the Vespa Isles at any cost. This is when I know for sure he has been sent here from someone above to rule by my side and stop the treachery.

  Reaching up, I slide my arms over his shoulders until they are wrapped around his neck and then I look directly into his eyes. “I think my uncle might be involved.”

  Already suspecting the deceit, he nods. “You must keep this quiet,” he warns me, “for your safety and that of your country.”

  My breasts tighten against his chest in the most delicious way. “Yes. I know.”

  When his hands skim over the bare flesh of my back, I suck in a breath. “You feel what I feel, I know you do,” he murmurs.

  Waves crash in the distance but the only sound I hear is my thundering heart. I don’t pretend not to know what he means. The chemistry between us is nearly combustible and therefore undeniable. “Yes, I do, and I’ve never experienced anything like this. It scares me.”

  He stops our dance and lifts my chin, forcing me to meet his seeking gaze. “You don’t have to be afraid. I’ll take care of you.”

  The firm promise warms me from the inside and I rise up on my tiptoes, my lips a breath away from his. “I know you will.”

  His tongue sneaks out to lap at my lips. “I’d like to start now.”

  I lean back and tilt my head to the side. “But we haven’t had our drinks yet?”

  Although amusement softens the intensity of his gaze, I can still see how badly he wants me. “I’ll grab the bottle. You take the glasses.”

  “I think it’s an excellent idea,” I whisper.

  He chuckles, and his laughter vibrates over my sensitive skin. “We’re going to make a great team.”

  “Do you really think so?”

  Hauling me against him, he anchors me tight to prevent me from falling and hovers his mouth over mine. “I know so.”

  And I believe him.

  PRINCESSES DO KNEEL

  Like teenagers, we sneak into the house and creep up the back stairs. Once inside my room, he drops his shoes and crosses the space to set champagne on the night table.

  Giggling, still with my shoes in my hands, I drop them and watch him. When he stalks my way, I step back, breathless, and hit the wall behind me. I can’t move. In seconds, he puts his hands on the wall and closes the space between us.

  With his arms on each side of my head, I feel dizzy.

  “I think—” he says, his voice deeper than I remember it being, “—we’ll hold off on popping the cork until I’ve had you in my mouth, on my tongue, and anyway else I deem necessary.”

  I want to respond with a question, like where else, but when he crushes his mouth down on mine, I end up making a sound even I can’t decipher. I open beneath the onslaught, still trying to ask what anyway he deems means and then his tongue sweeps inside and steals my words away, and I really don’t care.

  A moan bursts from my throat and becomes embarrassingly loud as he pulls away. “Put your hands on me,” he orders. “Now.”

  With a whimper, I spread both my hands on his chest and feel every ripple of his muscles. His nipples are hard as steel beneath my fingertips, and when I pinch them, he mutters, “Fuck.”

  “Adrien, we should probably discuss what’s necessary to prepare you for your role.”

  He shakes his head. “Not now, Tori.”

  Tori.

  My heart is doing cartwheels but my mind is disciplining me for allowing him to disregard what I’m trying to tell him. When I open my mouth to tell him anyway, he stops me with another earth-shattering kiss.

  Letting it go until later, I slide my arms around his neck. His mouth molds to mine and our tongues twine and twist and dance.

  This is passion.

  This is burning desire.

  Lust and want and need.

  This is everything.

  That brave girl inside me is back, and without overthinking anything, I drop my hands to his waist and boldly tug his shirt from his pants. Our mouths remain locked with passion as I unbutton the fabric and tear it madly from his chest.

  Breaking apart for only the briefest of moments to shove his clothing down his shoulders, we rejoin our greedy mouths as soon as is humanly possible.

  Without wasting a second, he unfastens the button of my shorts and yanks them down, along with my panties. In an instant, both are on the floor, forgotten. Then one tug and my top is beside them.

  His gaze is hot and burning when he brings his hands to my waist and lifts me. The strength of his arms leaves me dizzy as his touch urges me to wrap my legs around him.

  Now my head is higher than his and I take the opportunity to run my fingers over the bristly stubble along his jaw.

  Men don’t come calling on the Princess withou
t having just shaved, but apparently, this one does.

  Such a rebel.

  Bare beneath his hold, I squirm a little and he groans against my mouth when my sex brushes his belly. “You’re beautiful,” he tells me.

  His words flow like a summer breeze over my ears. It isn’t the most original line, but coming from him, it means everything.

  “So are you,” I whisper.

  His hands slid down to cup my bum and hold me up when he chuckles. “Me, beautiful? I’m not sure whether to be flattered or insulted.”

  The wall is hard against my back, and Adrien is even harder in front of me. “I’m willing to bet I’m not the only woman to ever call you beautiful.”

  “Are you now?” He pushes against me, and my clit rubs the bare skin of his chest. I think there’s a very good chance I could faint.

  “In fact,” I bite my lip, “I’ll wager that all I have to do is look you up on Twitter and I’ll find someone calling you that within seconds.”

  “Time to get off social media,” he mutters and reattaches his lips to mine.

  Taking that as a cue to shut up, I kiss him back. When his hands knead my bum, pulling me infinitesimally closer then pushing me back, just enough to keep the pressure building in my clit, I have to leave his mouth to suck in a breath.

  His mouth finds my throat, and my head reels back and touches the wall behind me when his tongue swirls my skin. He lets me slip down a tad, and now I‘m pressed against the cool metal of his belt buckle. The new sensation against my heated flesh makes me groan out loud.

  “Did you miss me?” His voice is hoarse.

  “You know I did,” I say breathlessly.

  “Then you shouldn’t have left me the way you did,” he says, a smile curving his lips.

  Some kind of flirtation overtakes me and I find myself telling him, “But now I get to make it up to you, and it’s going to be so fun.”

  One hand leaves my bum, but he’s so strong, I know he’s not going to drop me. “Yes, and I know just the way.”

  I can feel his hands working at his belt and I don’t relent. I press my body against him, but then he slowly lets me down until my feet are touching the ground.

  Bewildered, I stare at him, my breath coming in pants.