The Rebel Queen

by Jeana E. Mann

  “How’s married life treating you?”

  “It’s okay.”

  “You know you can’t trust him, right?”

  “But I can trust you? That’s funny.” I pretend to laugh.

  His expression sobers. “Life here might seem like a fairytale but remember who you are and what you represent.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” My patience for his games has ended. The growl of my stomach is an unsubtle reminder of the vipers waiting for my blood in the dining room.

  “Henry married you because you’re a bargaining chip with your father. His goal as king is to liberate Androvia from the current drug wars. If things get too intense, he’s going to ship you home. Why do you think Lady Clayton is here, waiting so patiently in the wings?”

  Icy fear creeps beneath my skin. It all makes sense now. Henry’s interest in me. The impromptu marriage proposal. The pieces fit. He doesn’t care for me. He’s using me. Just like Nicky. Just like my ex-husband. Just like my dad. I want to curl up in my bedroom and cry, but I can’t let Nicky know how much his words have impacted me. Instead, I put on a brave face until I can have a private moment to work through my feelings.

  Nicky’s smile borders on predatory. “Here you thought I was the monster, when all along, you’ve been sleeping with devil and didn’t know it.” He waves a hand. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just a theory. I’ve been wrong before.”

  “I think you should go.” I square my shoulders, meeting his smirk with my own. After all, this is my home. Inside these walls, I’m the powerful one. Not him.

  Nicky unfolds his long limbs and stands. One of his hands wraps around my forearm. “Don’t be angry with me. I only want what’s best for you.”

  The sound of the door closing jerks us away from each other. Henry stands in the foyer, eyes narrowed. “Good evening.” He crosses the room to drop a kiss on my cheek. My skin burns beneath the soft brush of his lips. “You didn’t waste any time getting here, Nicky.”

  “When the King of Androvia calls, I listen.”

  Henry walks straight to a crystal decanter on a cart by the sofa, removes the stopper, and pours liquor into a short glass. The muscles in his throat work as he takes a drink. He presses his lips together, savoring the taste, before turning to us. “Would either of you care to join me?”

  “No.” I shake my head. An undercurrent of tension vibrates through the room. To hide my shaking knees, I claim a seat in the red velvet chair by the fireplace.

  “Of course.” Nicky is quick to accept the offer. He moves to Henry’s side. The two men make an awesome sight—Henry’s regal blondness next to Nicky’s smoldering darkness.

  “Is your room acceptable, Nicky?” Henry avoids my frown while he pours Nicky’s drink. It’s a task normally handled by our staff, but I’ve excused them for the evening. Their constant fawning sets my nerves on edge.

  “Five-star, as always.” Nicky accepts the glass from Henry and bends his head to sniff the expensive whisky. “It’s good to know a man who appreciates excellence.”

  “I do my best.” Henry settles on the arm of my chair. He sweeps my hair over my shoulder. The careless graze of his fingertips on my neck lights tiny fires of desire beneath my skin. The gesture is affectionate and possessive. Nicky’s interest follows Henry’s caress. I shift in the chair, away from my husband’s fingers. My feelings for him are a jumbled mess of anger, lust, and affection. Until I sort them out, I need to stay in control. Something I can’t do when he’s touching me.

  “I’m looking forward to kicking your royal ass on the tennis court,” Nicky says, his gray eyes hooded by his long lashes.

  “You have tennis courts?” I sit up straighter. Although I’ve been given free run of the palace interior, I haven’t had a chance to explore the outside yet, and I’m dying for a peek at the amenities.

  “Yes.” Henry’s eyes narrow in a warning glare. I’m not sure if his censure is meant for me or Nicky.

  “Wasserfell Palace has some of the best clay courts in Europe.” The overhead chandeliers reflect off Nicky’s sleek brown hair as he cocks his head. “You’re adoring husband hasn’t shown you?”

  “No. I’m not allowed outside,” I reply. Rebellious tears blur my vision. I’m sick of being cloistered inside these stone walls, ignored, and denigrated. Although the dead mouse and Rupert’s insinuations scared me, I haven’t been beaten. Not yet. “And my husband has other priorities.” Henry’s eyes narrow. His irritation pleases me more than I care to admit. If I’m lucky, he’ll exorcise that emotion on my body tonight. I’m flirting with fire, but I can’t help it. I yearn for his touch, his attention.

  “Wow, Henry, you’re a horrible husband.” Nicky flicks imaginary lint from his lapel before sitting on the loveseat across from us. “Let me show you around then. We can go tomorrow, if you’re free.”

  “She’s not.” Henry’s hand grips my shoulder, requesting my silence. I ignore it.

  “I’d love that.” Even though I abhor Nicky, I’m angry and hurt by Henry’s indifference. The thought of sunshine and fresh air buoys my spirits. “I’ll clear my calendar.”

  “I said no.” The tension in Henry’s square jaw increases. “You’re spending the day with me.”

  “Really? Because no one told me.” Whatever game my husband is playing, I have no desire to participate. “You’re not on my schedule.”

  “I don’t have to make an appointment to see my wife.” The dangerous gravel in his voice sends a shiver down my back. How can he irritate me and turn me on at the same time?

  “If you’re going to bore me with more meetings, I’m not interested.” I shrug away from his touch and smooth the hem of my dress. “I’ve been stuck inside this fortress forever.”

  “Did I touch a nerve? I didn’t mean to disrupt your matrimonial bliss.” Nicky’s smirk is undeniable.

  “Leave us, Tarnovsky.” Henry’s glares. I swallow down a lump of regret. Judging by the deep lines between his eyebrows, he’s pissed. “I need to speak with my wife—alone.”

  “As you wish, Your Majesty.” With an exaggerated sweep of his arm, Nicky bows then makes his exit. “I’ll see you in the dining room.”

  Henry stands and extends a hand. I hesitate before sliding my palm across his. The glide of skin over skin culminates in a wave of goosebumps up my arm. His fingers tighten around mine, pulling me to my feet and against his chest. “Are you angry with me?”

  To avoid his glower, I tilt my head toward the window. Darkness blankets the landscape. “Why would you invite Nicky here? You know how I feel about him.”

  “I have my reasons.” He leads me toward the bedroom.

  I balk, tugging my hand from his grasp. “Why can’t you just be honest with me?” My heart thunders in my chest, threatening to explode. The muscles in his jaw clench. He crowds me toward the wall. Cool wood paneling brings me to an abrupt halt. His hard chest brushes my breasts, sending tingles of attraction down my body. I try to push him away. “You’re sick and twisted.”

  “Maybe.” He captures my wrists and traps them against the wall above my head. The tip of his nose ghosts along the bridge of mine. The gesture is tender and intimidating. “But like it or not, you’re stuck with me. I’ll never let you go. Never.” The possessive growl of his words thrills me. He presses a kiss to the corner of my mouth. My inner muscles clench with need. I buck against him. The hardness between his legs juts into my belly. “I love it when you fight me, Everly.”

  “If I had known you were a heartless bastard, I would never have married you.”

  “You didn’t give two shits about my character or my sexual proclivities. You wanted an easy escape from your father, and that’s what I gave you. Now, when life is getting hard, you’re having second thoughts. Don’t be a quitter, Everly.”

  “I’m not a quitter.” My breasts heave like I’ve been running a footrace. Henry’s knee wedges between my thighs. His body is warm and solid. This is what I needed—his hands on me, ta
king away the insecurities and fear, something Nicky had never been able to do. Dampness gathers between my legs. I turn my head, aligning our lips. The slightest movement on either of our parts will result in a kiss, and I want it so badly. I want him to kiss me, to crush my mouth with his, to ravage my mouth with his tongue. I meet his stare, eager to provoke a reaction. “Don’t be a dick.”

  He grips my chin in his hand, forcing me to look at him. His eyes blaze, burning into my soul. “I came running home because you sounded like you needed me. Well, I’m here, Everly. What are you going to do with me? What has you spooked?”

  My conversation with Rupert comes rushing back. I relax against Henry’s body. After all, he’s the only friend I have here. I need to remember that we’re on the same team. Fighting will accomplish nothing. He releases my wrists, letting his hands slide along my arms, my ribcage, before bracketing my hips. Genuine concern deepens the lines bracketing his mouth. With a sigh, I rest my forehead against his shoulder, too tired to continue the fight. “Your uncle—he threatened me.”

  20

  Everly

  I tell Henry everything about my conversation with Rupert. He listens, his expression stoic, before ushering me to the dining hall. Outside the doors, he tips my face up to his. “I’ll take care of it.” The pad of his thumb brushes over my lower lip. Hunger flickers in the clear depths of his eyes—hunger for me. He squelches his yearning the second it appears, but not fast enough. I know what I saw. Desire. Lust. Power surges through my body at this revelation. He might not love me, but he’s growing addicted to my body the same way I’m addicted to his. Except, my feelings are so much more than addiction. Am I a fool to wish for more from him than sex? There is a real possibility he’ll break my heart, but I’m not afraid anymore. I want him to fall for me the way I’m falling for him.

  Tonight, the table in the dining hall is longer to accommodate more guests. The clink of silverware and the hum of conversation fill the room. Henry presides at the head of the table, Nicky on his left and me on his right. Princess Marie, Lady Clayton, and Rupert sit at the opposite end. Although we’re separated by a dozen people, Rupert’s attention catches mine several times throughout the meal.

  Beneath the table, Henry’s hand touches my knee. He shakes his head, an imperceptible move to anyone but me, as if warning me to remain unaffected. After a cleansing exhale, I smile to reassure him. If Henry says he’ll take care of Rupert, he means it. In the meantime, I refuse to cower beneath his uncle’s threats. I stare back at Rupert until he looks away. He needs to know that I won’t be intimidated.

  After the meal, we withdraw to one of the sitting rooms. Lady Clayton corners me the second I’m alone. “Good evening, Everly.”

  Her constant refusal to acknowledge my marriage to Henry grates on my patience. I don’t care about the title. It’s the absence of respect that grinds my gears. “It’s Princess Everly. Or have you forgotten?” I ask loudly enough to be overheard by several of the guests.

  “Forgive me, Your Highness.” She dips in an exaggerated curtsy. “I meant no disrespect.”

  “Oh, but I think you did.” Nicky’s voice carries over my left shoulder. Lady Clayton’s face colors an unattractive shade of burgundy. By the twist of her lips, his appearance is a surprise to her, also. His smile broadens at her discomfort. “Still a sore loser, I see.”

  “Hello, Nikolay.” She extends a hand tipped with pale pink nail polish for him to kiss. Instead, he brushes a kiss to each of her cheeks. Her flush deepens.

  “Come on. That’s no way to greet a former lover.” His words carry above the murmur of voices. Interested stares turn to watch us. “Oh, Kitty, don’t blush. Everyone knows we’ve slept together. Even the king is aware of how you betrayed him during your engagement.”

  “Hush.” Her mouth presses into a thin, white line. “You’re being gauche.”

  “I hope so.” He winks at me, his gray eyes brimming with mischief. For once, I’m grateful for his meddling. Maybe he can be an asset instead of a hinderance. “It’s one of the few pleasures I get from life.” His attention turns to me. “Your Highness, did you know that Lady Clayton was engaged to the king? She had him eating out of the palm of her hand until I came along. She was so sure he’d never know about our affair. You really screwed that up, didn’t you, Kitty?”

  “I’m not going to stand here and let you abuse me.” With a huff, she attempts to squeeze past us, but Nicky hems her in with an agile sidestep.

  “If you leave, I’ll make a scene,” he says, lowering his voice. “And you won’t come out of it unscathed.”

  “Please stop.” The heart-shaped locket dangling between her breasts rises and falls with each exasperated breath. “I don’t deserve it.”

  “You deserve this and so much more.” The edges of his voice slice carelessly over her dignity, shredding it. A smile tugs his lips. “That’s why I’m here. To keep you in your place and out of His Majesty’s hair. He’s over you, Kitty. You need to move on.”

  A shiver of awareness ripples up my back. Before I see Henry, I sense his presence. The tips of his fingers brush my hip. “What’s going on here?”

  “I was just about to excuse myself.” Lady Clayton attempts to brush past me for a second time.

  “Not so fast.” This time, Henry impedes her escape. “You haven’t been dismissed.” His words remind me that she’s here with his permission. If she’s so offensive, why hasn’t he sent her home? As he likes to remind me, he has all the power. It’s another question begging for an answer. “Princess Everly, should we excuse Lady Clayton from the drawing room?”

  Henry places her fate into my hands. The transfer comes as a pleasant shock. His hand rubs soothing circles on my back. A pulse of desire contracts my inner muscles. I study her face. “No. Not yet. I’m enjoying this.”

  She ignores me. “Henry, please. Don’t make me tolerate this buffoon.” She lifts a hand like she’s about to touch him. He raises a warning eyebrow. Her mouth turns downward in a frown. “Why are you acting like this?”

  “I’ve tolerated your presence for the sake of my mother. But I won’t stand by and listen to you disrespect the future queen. The second the coronation is over, I want you out of this palace. Your days at court are numbered. Do you understand?” My husband speaks with quiet authority, the volume of his voice barely above a whisper. His meaning comes across like a shout. “And from now on, you’ll take your orders from Princess Everly. Is that okay with you, Your Highness?”

  “Yes.” I try not to smile.

  Lady Clayton recoils like she’s been struck. “You can’t mean that. Princess Marie will be furious.”

  “I meant every word of it. Mother no longer rules this court. Everly does. The sooner you realize who butters your bread, the better your life will be.” Henry turns away from her. He draws me closer, dropping his lips to my ear once more. “I need to speak with Nicky. Why don’t you go upstairs? It’s been a long day and you’ll need your rest.”

  21

  Henry

  No one understands the complexities of family relationships better than Nicky. He grew up in the shadow of Roman Menshikov. It had to be difficult for him. Roman was always the center of attention with his dark good looks, charismatic personality, and royal Russian bloodline. Even though I don’t care for Nicky, I respect his tenacity. Throughout his life, he’s managed to carve out a place for himself in the world. We might be at odds, but I need him. “I appreciate you taking the time out of your schedule to meet with me.” He might have betrayed my trust with Lady Clayton, but he holds the key to resolving my problems with Don McElroy. Since he responds well to flattery, I’m not above catering to his ego to get what I want.

  “Like I said. You called. I came. I know you don’t like me, so it must be important.” He crosses the room to stand in front of the antique humidor. With thumb and forefinger, he opens the lid. “Do you mind?” He gestures to the rows of cigars.

  “Help yourself. In fact, take a few
with you.” I know how much Nicky adores fine things. The cigars belonged to my father. I’ve never been a smoker.

  He lifts one of the cigars to his nose and sniffs. “Thank you. I’ll take you up on it.” He stuffs two cigars into the inside pocket of his dinner jacket then rests a hip on the back of the sofa. “So what can I do for you, Your Highness?”

  “Roman said you’ll have news for me.” The only way to stop Everly’s father from carrying out his threats is to find him. We’ll never be free of him until he’s caught.

  Nicky’s gray eyes are somber. “On my honor, I have no idea where Don is. Every time we get a whiff of his trail, he’s gone.”

  “That’s not good enough. I need to pinpoint his location. You understand how important this is, right?” My frustration climbs. There’s nothing I hate more than feeling powerless.

  Nicky shrugs. He reaches for a miniature globe of the world and rotates it in his hands. I can see the wheels turning beneath his brown hair. After a few moments of contemplation, he sets the statue aside. “From what my sources tell me, Don McElroy has every intention of carrying out his threats. If you think his men can’t get into your palace, you’re sadly delusional.”

  “We’ve already had a few instances.” I tell him about the dead mouse and the trespassers. Even though I don’t like his warning, I respect his observations. He might be a fiancée-stealing wanker, but he’s sharp.

  The playfulness fades from his face. “A security team isn’t going to be enough to keep your wife and country from harm. Don made bail yesterday and disappeared. He’s more dangerous than ever now. I question the loyalty of your subjects. Your father was a tyrant, and there are those who believe you’ll follow in his footsteps. Maybe one of them is willing to sell you out. The only way to end this is to terminate him.”