Except I hardly know this man.
“I’m sorry.” Gathering my composure, I push away and immediately miss the shelter of his embrace. “How embarrassing. You must think I’m a train wreck.”
“Don’t apologize.” Judgment and pity are absent from his tone. I study him, intrigued. He’s freshly shaved and smells of soap. Up close, auburn and chestnut strands run through his hair. “My great-grandfather killed his father to claim the throne. My uncle would kill me if he thought he could get away with it. I understand the dynamics of a powerful family." Of course, he does. Knowing this unfurls the strangling tension in my gut.
“I guess you understand then.” His hair waves above his forehead. Desire flickers in a shadowy corner of my body. Another time, another place, I would’ve found him irresistible. The urge to run my fingers through those silky strands and tousle their perfection is beyond tempting. To curb the impulse, I clench my fingers at my sides.
“Unquenchable thirst for power can lead a man to desperate acts. Crossing him can’t be good for your health.”
Father’s threats ring in my ears. My fear grows. What if I’m next? I don’t want to believe my father is capable of harming my friends or me. Then again, I never thought he could commit treason against his country or arrange to kill his mistress. I swallow hard. “You’ve seen the news?” His head bobs. “Of course, you have. Do you think I’m in danger?” He doesn’t answer for a long time. The ensuing silence increases my terror.
“Can we sit?” His gaze flicks from my face to the living room. I nod. Gentle fingers wrap around my elbow and lead me to the sofa where my mother sat moments earlier. Traces of her perfume linger in the air. The scent turns my stomach. He sits in the chair across from me, leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs, and clasps his hands between his widespread knees.
“Are you asking for my help, Everly?”
“Maybe.” The quiet concern in his voice stirs butterflies of anxiety in my chest. I’m so far out of my depth in this situation; I have no idea what to do, where to go, or whom I can trust.
"Do you have anyone you can call for help? A family member or a legal advisor?" I open my mouth, but he stops me with one sharp look. "Someone other than a Menshikov or one of your father’s cronies?"
“No.” The desperation of my situation clicks home. “I have friends—counsel—but they might be on my father’s payroll.” I underestimated the scope of his power once before. I won’t make the same mistake twice. Everyone in my circle—everyone but Rourke—has ties to my father in one form or another. Even the prince. My fingers tighten on the edge of the sofa, making dents in the cushion. “I’m fucked, aren’t I?”
“You’re not truly fucked until the last shovelful of dirt hits the top of your coffin.” He leans closer until his knees touch mine. Power thrums through his legs and into mine. “I’m going to ask you one more time, Everly. Do you need my help?”
Yes. The admission screams through my head, although I remain silent. I’m too proud, too ashamed, too stubborn to accept assistance from a stranger. For all I know, he’s part of this craziness.
He seems to read my thoughts. “Right now, you’re wondering who you can trust. On my word, you can count on me.”
“I want to believe you.” The nature of his relationship with Father has been unclear but obviously contentious. I place a hand on his thigh, in a gesture of trust. Electricity jolts along my arm. I snatch my hand away, curling my fingers into a fist. “Father always gets what he wants. Always.”
Henry bends forward to hear the soft words fall from my lips. His gaze catches on my mouth and hovers there for the span of a heartbeat before flicking back to my eyes. I press my thighs together, afraid to acknowledge the excitement of having him so close. The lids of his eyes lower. “And what about you, Everly? What do you want? Tell me and I’ll make it happen.”
A familiar, unwelcome voice breaks the hold of Prince Henry’s stare. “Well, don’t the two of you look cozy.” Nicky leans against the doorway, hands in the pockets of his skinny black pants. His gaze bounces between the prince and me before settling on my heat-filled face.
“How did you get in here?” I rise to my feet. This man has already crushed my self-esteem. The last thing I need is more of his bullshit. He’s part of the past I want to forget.
He lifts a key in the air and jingles it. “I have this, remember?” In the flush of misguided obsession, I gave him a key to my apartment and security clearance. Stupid, stupid girl. A smirk curls the corners of his lips. “I just came by to return it, along with a warning.”
Nicky is the cherry on top of an already miserable day. I cross the room and make an ineffectual grab for the keychain. He lifts it higher, dangling it a few inches out of my reach. If he knew how close I am to losing my shit, he wouldn’t bait me. “Give it here.”
He studies my face for a minute. His gray eyes give nothing away. I stare back at him, clinging to the last remaining shreds of my dignity. Ignoring me, he walks further into the room. “Good to see you, Your Highness.” The angle of his nod holds grudging respect. “Everly, I’m heartbroken to see you’ve moved on so quickly. And Henry, you certainly didn’t waste any time moving in on my girl. Then again, I suppose a man in your position doesn’t have time to waste.”
“I’m not your girl,” I growl. “I’m not your anything.”
“Don’t let him get to you.” Henry’s words tickle the shell of my ear. I had no idea he was behind me. The hairs on the back of my neck lift in a pleasant shiver. When he straightens, his chest presses against my shoulder blades. “Return the keys to the young lady, Nick.”
“Here you go.” Nicky drops the keys into my palm and lifts his shoulders in an elegant shrug. His long fingers close around my hand. The metal key bites into my flesh. “And now for the warning.”
17
EVERLY
Nicky’s ominous tone turns my blood to ice. At my back, I feel the heat from Henry’s body. We barely know each other, but I’m acutely aware of his presence in the room. My father once said that great men need no introduction, and now I understand what he meant. Henry owns the space, commands it, making it all too easy to picture him on the throne of a magnificent castle.
“Spit it out, Nicky.” Henry’s smooth growl echoes with the confidence of a man used to giving orders and having them followed.
Nicky walks to the window, taking his time, and nudges the curtain aside to peer down at the tree-lined avenue. In his true fashion, he draws out the moment for drama’s sake, basking in the spotlight of our attention. “Word on the street is that your father bought you a ticket for the late show, young lady.”
“Are you sure?” Henry strides to Nicky and places a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to turn his attention back to us.
“Well, I wasn’t there, but my source is reliable.” The playfulness has extinguished from Nicky’s eyes. It might be the first time I’ve ever seen him sober. The realization escalates my fright to a new level.
“That’s ridiculous.” My ribs constrict, squeezing my lungs. Each breath sends shards of pain into my chest. I place a hand over my sternum to ease the tightness. “Would he really do that?”
“Maybe.” Nicky runs a finger along the fireplace mantle as if he’s checking for dust. “Believe me or don’t. It’s your choice. I’m just the messenger.”
“Everly, look at me.” Henry takes my hands in his, forcing me to face him. Worry clouds his blue-green gaze. “Your father is the head of a high-level group of men who control world politics through war and drugs. Whenever you see a third world uprising, your father is behind it. He snaps his fingers and hundreds—sometimes thousands—of innocent people die. He may have put a hit out on you.”
“What am I supposed to do?” The last vestiges of composure abandon me. I glance around the room. I’m on the fourth floor with only one exit from the apartment. If someone slipped past security, I’d have no escape, no means of protection. “I don’t have anywhere to go.�
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“My, my…look at the time.” Nicky shakes his head and feigns a glance at his Rolex. “I’ve got an appointment on the other side of the city. You’ll have to excuse me.”
“You’re leaving? Now?” I throw my hands in the air. This is so typically Nicky. He runs at the first sign of trouble. I have no idea what I ever saw in him.
“Afraid so.” The corners of his mouth turn down in a melodramatic frown. He crosses the room at a swift pace. At the threshold to the foyer, he waves a hand. “Don’t bother seeing me out. You two carry on with whatever you were doing when I got here. Unless you want me to join you. No?” He pauses to capture my gaze for a final time. “Oh, and I’d stay away from the windows, if I were you, young lady.”
“What does that mean?” I ask, although I already know. The thought of a sniper’s sight trained on my apartment causes my stomach to churn.
“It means you need to think very carefully about your actions from here on out. Where you go. Who you trust.”
I’ve never felt so alone in my entire life. Always before, I’ve had friends and family around me. Aside from Rourke, I have no one. Even if I did, I wouldn’t want to draw them into this dangerous circle.
Henry takes a seat on the sofa. The smooth fabric of his trousers stretches tight across his thighs as he leans back, spreading his knees wide, and rests an arm along the back. With his opposite hand, he pats the cushion at his side. “Everly, come. Sit. Pacing will only wear out the carpet.”
“You should go.” I press my palms together to hide the way they’re shaking. “You’re an important man. You don’t want to get caught up in this. You could be in danger.”
“I have security in the hall and downstairs. No one is going to get to you while I’m here.”
The quiet calm of his voice soothes my frazzled nerves. I exhale loudly, letting the tension ease from my neck and shoulders. He’s right. Now more than ever, I need to keep my wits about me. I give him a reassuring smile to cover my inner turmoil and perch on the sofa beside him. “Are you really here visiting a friend?”
“In my country, I could have you beheaded for questioning my honesty.” Amusement dances in his gaze. Thick black lashes surround irises the color of the Aegean Sea on a stormy day. From childhood vacations in Crete, I know those waters are warm, beautiful, and dangerous, a fact I vow to remember. I can’t let this man—any man—get under my skin. The men in may past are proof enough of that.
“Good thing we’re in Manhattan then.” A mouth like his begs to be kissed. Heat gathers between my thighs.
“Yes, lucky for you.” The gap between us shrinks as he inches forward. He touches a strand of my hair, rubbing it between his thumb and index finger, before sweeping it over my shoulder. The slow, deliberation of his movements intensify the erotic aura surrounding him. “For you, I’m willing to show leniency.”
Lord have mercy, this man is about to set my panties on fire. Two back-to-back failed relationships, however, have proven my poor judgment regarding men. I shut down the twinges of sexual attraction. From now on, my heart is on lockdown, no matter how hot or how sexy the man in question might be. I clear my throat. “Did you have a reason for stopping by, or is this a social call? You never said. If it’s social, then I’m afraid I’m not very good company today.”
His eyes haven’t left me once since he sat on the couch. I want to look away, but I can’t. Instead, I lean back. The incline of his torso ghosts my move, inching forward to keep the distance between us negligible. “I heard about your situation and thought I could be of assistance.”
“I don’t think anyone can help me.” The sickening sensation of defeat returns to my stomach. Needing a reprieve from the magnetic pull of his body on mine, I return to the window. I hover next to the curtain, safely obscured from sight as Nicky’s warning repeats through my head. Meanwhile, the police have erected barriers along the sidewalks to keep the crowd out of the street.
“I can get you out of here. Provide a place to stay until the threats from your father are dealt with.” He stands beside me. The sleeve of his blazer brushes my arm, sending tingles to my fingertips. Together, we stare at the circus down below.
“I appreciate your generosity, but I’m pretty sure this mess is going to follow me to my grave.” With sickening clarity, the extent of my punishment reveals an ugly future. My father is a bulldog when it comes to revenge. He’ll never give up. I’ll never be safe.
“What if I could guarantee your welfare? Would you accept my help?”
I study his strong profile. His blue-blooded pedigree shows in the sharp right angle of his jaw, his straight nose, and the height of his cheekbones. “You’re serious? You would do that?”
“Absolutely.” He turns to face me, clasping his hands behind his back. “I’m leaving for Androvia tomorrow. Come with me. Take refuge at the palace. The borders of my country are ironclad. No one will bother you there. Stay as long as you like. As my honored guest, of course.”
A warning shiver runs down my back. His offer sounds too good to be true. Nothing in this world comes without a price, a price I might not want to pay. “You don’t even know me.”
“I know enough.”
“I couldn’t possibly leave. I have my family, my job, and Rourke…”
“Not anymore.”
His words steal my breath. My mother is the head of the charitable foundation where I work, but I can’t possibly continue under her direction. As for Rourke, she’s found her happily-ever-after with Roman. I have no one to hold me here. The thought brings the sting of tears to my eyes. I blink them back, lifting my chin, unwilling to show my devastation to the proud man in front of me.
“There’s no reason to stay here.” Quiet confidence underscores his voice. He glides a fingertip along the side of my face, making me shiver, then captures my chin in his hand. “Come to Androvia. Your every wish will be my command. I’ll make sure of it.”
A summer away might be the answer to my problems. The situation might change a lot in a few months. I’ve never been to Androvia, but I’ve heard it has high mountains, green pastures, and rustic thatched cottages. It could be fun. And the company of the crown prince would be a welcome distraction. Before I accept, it occurs to me that he never finished his previous train of thought. “You said two reasons brought you here. What was the second one?”
“I have a proposition for you.”
Before I can respond, we’re interrupted by the vibration of my phone on the coffee table. We glance at it. Fear and dread dance in my chest. “It’s my father.” Prince Heinrich picks up the phone, reads the screen, and hands it to me. “No.” I shake my head, backing away like the phone might jump out of his grasp and attack me.
“Have you spoken with him at all since your press release?”
“No, and I don’t intend to.”
He palms the phone. A frown wrinkles his brow. “Maybe you should. Tidy up your loose ends before you leave with me. At least you’ll know where his head is at.”
“You’re certainly confident of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Arrogance is one of my best and worst traits.” The phone falls silent for a few seconds before resuming its annoying buzz. I stare at it. One of his eyebrows lifts as he puts the phone to his ear and accepts the call. “Hello, Don. Prince Heinrich here. How are you?”
"No. Are you crazy?" I make an unsuccessful swipe for the phone.
The prince smiles, dimples dancing, and sidesteps my attempts to regain control. “What am I doing here? Visiting your lovely daughter.” His eyes meet mine, brimming with mischief. “In fact, I’m glad you called. We were just talking about you.” The prince holds the phone away from his ear. He lifts a finger, gesturing for me to be patient. “Are you threatening me, Don? Because I don’t respond well to threats.” He hands the phone to me. “He wants to talk to you.”
“Everly, have you lost your ever-loving mind?” Dad’s voice booms through the phone.
“My mind is better
than ever, Daddy. Thank you for asking.”
“What is that man doing in your house?”
“It’s none of your business.” Nausea builds in my stomach. He knows I’m at home, making me a sitting duck for anyone wishing me harm. In the back of my head, a countdown clock begins to tick. One of his minions might be on his way here, ready to cash in my ticket.
“Your mother says you’ve refused to make a statement. Tell me that’s not true.” The little girl inside me, the one who always sought her father’s approval, wants to bend to his will. But I’m not a child anymore. I know the difference between right and wrong, and what he’s done goes beyond evil.
“This is your mess, Dad. You clean it up.”
The prince bends to whisper in my free ear. “Well done.” His breath tickles my skin, sending pleasant shivers down my spine.
Father’s tone softens, assuming the silkiness of a Svengali. “The crown prince is not your friend, my dear. You can’t trust him.”
“That’s funny, coming from you.”
He’s silent for so long, I think he’s forgotten me. My mind flits through memories of his kisses on my skinned knees, his strong hands holding me in the saddle of my first pony, the delight in his eyes at my college graduation. Did those moments mean nothing? I don’t know how to separate the hero of my youth from the monster of my present.
“It’s not too late. We can still minimize the damage of what you’ve done. Just come home, Everly. We’ll face this situation as a family, the way we always have.”
“If I don’t, are you going to have me killed?” More than anything, I want to run into his arms, have him squeeze me tight, and tell me I’ve been a good girl. I wait for his denial. It never arrives. The truth hurts, stabbing me through the center of my heart, dealing a final deathblow to our relationship. I’ve never been a mean person, but right now, in the heat of the moment, I want to hurt this man the way he’s hurt me. I run the tip of my tongue around my dry lips, gathering the courage. “Goodbye, Daddy.”
The Royal Arrangement: Prequel to The Rebel Queen Page 11
