By the time dinner rolls around, I’ve worked myself into a temper. Who does he think he is? I’m done being ignored and patronized. I cast aside the gray linen dress laid out for me then dig through my closet until I find the perfect thing. Something to punish him for his assholery. Something to capture his attention. The realization stabs me in the chest. I like the way his eyes follow me around the room. The hitch in his breath when I touch him. The erratic beat of his heart against my breasts when we kiss. I want him to think about me long after we’ve parted for the day.
“Are you sure, Your Highness?” Olga frowns at the Dior gown. I nod. She shakes her head, a smile of amusement peeking around the edges of her reserve. “You’re a brave woman.”
“Brave or stupid. I’m not sure which.” I draw in a deep breath. “Help me into it and wish me luck, will you?”
28
Henry
Everly is late for dinner. I keep glancing at the stairs, waiting for her to appear. King Johan and Queen Elsa seem bored despite my efforts to keep the conversation lively. Unfortunately for them, I’m in no mood for entertaining royalty. I have a full-blown crisis on my hands. A few hours earlier, someone breached the curtain wall and entered the palace with a handgun. Luckily, the guards caught him before he pierced the inner sanctum where we reside. The gunman confessed to his ties with McElroy. We’re so close to capturing the bastard. I’ve kept Everly ignorant of the terminated threats. I don’t want to worry her when she finally seems to be finding a foothold in my court.
A gasp swirls around the room, yanking my thoughts back to the twenty-four guests in the foyer. I follow King Johan’s line of vision to see my wife descending the grand staircase. She’s wearing a one-shouldered Grecian gown that shows off the elegant column of her graceful neck and her milky shoulders. As she descends in sky-high heels, the side slit of her dress reveals the stretch of a toned calf. I swallow hard to dislodge the lump in my throat.
Fuck me, she’s beautiful. Smoky eyeshadow illuminates her blue eyes. They sweep over me, filled with fire. She’s still angry with me. Shame heats my face. I was harsh with her this afternoon. If she knew the stress I’m under, she’d understand. But, of course, she doesn’t know because I’m unable to communicate properly. The pressures of my new position multiply with each passing day. There are captured insurgents to extradite, hungry citizens to feed, and the escalating number of threats to palace security. I don’t want to burden her with problems she can’t resolve. These are my responsibilities, not hers. Somehow, she’ll blame herself.
“Good evening. I’m so sorry to keep you all waiting.” Auburn curls cascade from the top of her head down her shoulders. The filmy dress hints at the luscious curves beneath it. She’s easily the most attractive person in the room. I’m a lucky man.
“Henry, you didn’t tell me your wife was so beautiful.” King Johan bends over her hand and kisses her knuckles. Jealousy prickles along the back of my neck. Although he’s married with children, he’s closer to Everly’s age than mine, with a stable full of mistresses. “She’s well worth the wait.”
“Yes, she’s stunning.” I try to wrap an arm around Everly’s waist. “King Johan. Queen Elsa. May I present my wife, Princess Everly Von Stratton.” She sidesteps my embrace under the pretext of shaking hands with the Swedish royals.
They exchange pleasantries. I try not to ogle Everly’s breasts rising and falling with each of her breaths beneath the silk. Over her shoulder, I catch a glimpse of my mother’s disapproval and try not to laugh. No Androvian royal has worn a gown like this to a function in decades. I have to hand it to Everly. She’s chosen attire that violates all of my mother’s dress code rules while remaining tasteful.
The butler announces dinner. I stride through the door alone and wait beside my chair for the others to enter. King Johan and Queen Elsa follow me. My mother queues up, like she’s next. Everly blocks her path with a sunny smile. “I believe you’re after me.” Annoyance flickers in Mother’s eyes. Everly’s tone remains sweet. “The king’s consort is next. Perhaps you’ve forgotten. I know how important protocol is to you.” I stifle a laugh. My girl has come a long way.
“Of course.” Mother dips her head. Anger flushes her cheeks. Serves her right. She’s been hateful to my wife from the start.
Everly claims the chair next to Queen Elsa. From my position, I have a premium view of her profile as she turns to chat with our guests. The tip of her upturned nose bounces when she talks. I strain to catch snippets of their conversation. Everly follows the queen’s cue, switching effortlessly from English to Swedish throughout the chat.
Over a tureen of bisque, our eyes meet. The collision stirs something new in my gut, something more powerful than lust. She lowers her focus to the floor then blinks away, but not before I catch the flash of mingled hurt and determination. By the time the meal is finished, I’m ready to ditch the guests and solve the mystery in her eyes.
Inside the drawing room, I corner Everly by the fireplace. I take her chin between thumb and forefinger and tilt her face up to mine, forcing her to look at me. “What are you up to, my love?”
“This is me holding up my end of the bargain.” Fire blazes in her eyes. The subtle show of insubordination brings my cock to attention, stirring my innate desire to control her rebellious spirit by fucking it out of her. “I’m playing the dutiful wife, doing everything I can to make sure your evening is perfect.”
The underlying accusation hovers in the air between us. I get it. She needed a favor, and I withdrew my support at the most inopportune time. “Don’t be angry. I have my reasons for what happened today. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”
One of her elegant eyebrows darts toward her hairline. “Promise? Your promises don’t hold much weight. You only keep them when it’s easy for you.”
“You need to trust me.”
“I trusted you to be at our meeting today.” She yanks her chin from my grasp. The volume of her voice rises. “And look where that got me.”
“Keep your voice down.” My awareness dips to her lips. I can’t help myself. All I can think about is the minute I’m able to claim those bee-stung red lips for myself. “Or I’m going to take you into the study and fuck that smart mouth of yours.”
“Try it,” she says. Her pleasant smile belies the challenge in her tone.
“What is going on over here?” Mother’s voice cuts between us.
“Nothing.” Everly and I reply in unison.
“It certainly doesn’t look like nothing.” Mother’s frown travels the length of Everly’s dress. “You’re embarrassing us.”
“This is none of your concern, Mother.” She’s been testy since moving into the manor house.
Mother places a light hand on my forearm, one of the few times she’s touched me over the past ten years. “Calm down, Henry. People are staring.”
“No one is looking.” Everly leaps to my defense. In fact, the majority of the guests have gathered on the terrace to marvel at the sunset over the lake. I stifle a laugh. Even when we’re fighting, she’s got my back. I need to do the same.
“It doesn’t matter if anyone is watching. You must always present your best self.” To demonstrate, she smiles and straightens her shoulders. “See? I’m absolutely livid inside, yet outwardly serene.”
Everly’s lips twitch. She digs her white teeth into her lower lip to hide her smile. Attraction pulses across the space between us. For the first time, we feel like a team. I want to dig my fingers into her hair and bend her over the nearest sofa. Mother, catching the predatory gleam in my eyes, glances away, a flush on her cheeks.
“Mother, don’t you have someone to berate besides us?” I ask, keeping my focus on Everly.
“Your Majesty, please forgive the interruption.” A butler bows in front of us. “You have an urgent phone call.”
“Tell them I’ll call back tomorrow.”
The butler swallows. “Sir, it’s Roman Menshikov. He insists on speaking with you.”
My pulse skips a beat. When Roman Menshikov calls, it can’t be good. Even though we’ve formed an uneasy alliance in the search for Everly’s father, our relationship is tenuous. Since his wife is Everly’s best friend, I feel obligated to remain on friendly terms. And it helps that Androvian troops are now armed with the highest grade military weapons available, thanks to him.
“I need to take this call. Everly, please extend my apologies to everyone. Goodnight, Mother.” Without a backward glance, I head toward the door. Everly’s exasperated sigh follows me down the hallway.
29
Everly
After a sleepless night, I take breakfast downstairs on the terrace—alone. Henry didn’t come to bed at all after dinner last evening. This morning, the sheets on his bed were unruffled. I lay awake until early morning waiting to hear his footsteps. They never come. Half of me is worried that a state emergency kept him up. The other half is disappointed. I was looking forward to an argument, after which, we would have angry makeup sex.
Instead, I silently fume over a fruit plate and yogurt. Henry’s behavior baffles me. One minute, he’s tender and attentive. The next, he’s dominating and argumentative. I have no idea which version of him will greet me the next time we meet. In frustration, I stab an apple slice with my fork.
“I hope you’re not imagining I’m that apple.” Nicky’s voice drifts onto the terrace through the open doors to the breakfast room. He appears at the threshold, hands in the pockets of his skinny trousers. A flush of embarrassment heats my face at being so juvenile. I rest the fork handle on the edge of my plate. He bows. “Good morning, Your Highness.”
“What are you doing here?” I’m not in the mood for his shenanigans today. “Shouldn’t you be out defrauding innocent women of their hard-earned cash?”
“Not today. It’s Thursday, and I only defraud on Tuesdays and Saturdays.” One of the footmen pulls out the chair across from me and gestures for Nicky to be seated. He sighs like a contented lion after a long day of hunting. “Gerhardt, would you bring me a plate of those amazing waffles that Chef Israel makes? With some blueberry syrup? And whipped cream. Don’t forget the whipped cream.” He waggles his thick eyebrows. “I love waffles.”
“You know the names of our employees?” It’s taken weeks for me to remember all their names.
“Most of them.” He spreads his napkin over his lap. “All of the women, fifty percent of the footmen, the head butler, the chef, and none of the administrative staff.”
“Which says a lot about your priorities.”
“Yes, I suppose so. Oh, thank you, Gerhardt.” Nicky beams at the footman as he places a steaming cup of espresso in front of him. “Good man.”
Unable to control my annoyance, I roll my eyes then return my attention back to the formal garden below us. The hydrangeas are making a fabulous show. Their petals scatter every time the wind blows, making a thick, pink carpet on the grass. I wonder why the manicured pathways aren’t open to the public. Tourists pay big bucks for entrance to similar places in other countries. I make a mental note to mention it to Henry before remembering yesterday’s fiasco. He doesn’t give two shits about my ideas.
For once, Nicky remains silent. He’s quiet for so long that I forget he’s there until Gerhardt returns with his waffles. They smell heavenly. After he’s eaten half the plate, he pushes back in his chair. I can feel the weight of his focus on me.
“What?” I frown, feeling emotionally raw and exposed.
“You seem to be adjusting to life as a consort.” He turns the handles of his utensils to the four o’clock position on his plate, signaling he’s done. He might be a bastard, but his manners are impeccable.
“I guess.” My unenthusiastic reply causes both his eyebrows to rise.
“Oh, dear. Has the honeymoon ended?” The tip of his tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth.
“None of your business.” I toss a biscuit at him. He catches it, takes a bite, then drops it back onto the plate, like he’s used to having food thrown at his head every day. I can’t help laughing.
He grins back at me. “Okay. We won’t discuss your sex life.”
“No. We won’t.” After a beat, I remember that I’m annoyed with the male species and shove back my chair. “Have a good day.”
“What’s on your agenda this morning?” He stands with me.
“I’m going to the Marymount Hospital to meet with the children in the cancer ward.” I had been hoping Henry would accompany me. In true fashion, however, he never responded to the many requests I’d given him through Shasta.
“Does Henry know? Did he approve this?” To my great irritation, Nicky follows me from the terrace to the kitchen.
“His Majesty is too busy to be bothered with these kinds of things.” After Henry’s abrupt dismissal yesterday, I’ve taken the situation into my own hands.
Nicky’s gray eyes scrutinize my face. “I’m pretty sure Henry isn’t going to like this.”
“Well, Henry isn’t going to know until it’s too late.” At the front door, Olga is waiting by the servant’s entrance with my purse.
“Hang on a second.” His fingers wrap around my bicep. “You’re sneakier than I gave you credit for. Where’s your security?”
“I have the driver and two bodyguards. The hospital has arranged a private entry through the parking garage. I’ll be in and out before anyone knows I’m missing.”
“Bad idea, Your Highness.” With a forearm, he blocks my escape.
I duck underneath his elbow. “Out of my way.”
“God help me,” he mutters as I walk toward the waiting car. “Hold up. I’m going with you.”
30
Henry
After a night filled with trans-Atlantic phone calls, I try to listen as Shasta briefs me about the day. Invitations pour in from around the world. Everyone wants to meet my new wife. Since the funeral, photographs of Everly on the street with the little girl have circulated through the media. The world is in love with her beautiful face, her sense of style, and her shotgun wedding to a member of the Androvian Royal Family. I can’t blame them. She’s exceeded my expectations in every way.
The unexpected attention has paparazzi parked outside the palace walls twenty-four-seven, intent on capturing the new princess during her day. If she’s aware of the hullabaloo her actions cause, she hasn’t spoken about it. The media buzz exposes her to increased risks from her father’s goons. Thank goodness, she’s banned from leaving the palace. She thinks I’m being domineering, but I’m desperate to keep her safe. Especially after speaking with Roman last night. Don McElroy must be captured before he carries out his threats of violence against our loved ones.
“Your Majesty, we have an emergency.” The Chief of Palace Security bursts through the door unannounced, a major breach of protocol. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen anything but impassive calm on his face.
“What’s wrong?” An icepick of panic stabs my heart. With the Androvian military weapons provided by Roman’s storehouses, the incidents of border violence have dwindled to nothing.
“Sir, there’s been a shooting at the hospital.” His next words turn my world upside down. “Princess Everly is there.”
* * *
EVERLY
Streaks of age and peeling paint cover the exterior walls of the hospital. The interior is clean but shabby. I shift my attention to the hopeful faces of the children instead of the outdated equipment, exhausted staff, and the scent of illness. Nicky hovers at my side, delighting the kids by mimicking my American accent and mannerisms behind my back. Their raucous laughter is well worth the teasing.
Some of them are pitiful, their bodies emaciated and exhausted from invasive surgeries, chemotherapy, and radiation treatments. Despite their disadvantages, they smile at me like I’m the Cinderella of fairytales instead of the wife of a megalomaniac tyrant.
“Do you have a dragon?” asks a boy of about five. The hopeful gleam in his eyes breaks my heart
. I touch a hand to his smooth, bald head—a head that should have thick, dark curls—and swallow down the lump of empathy stuck in my throat.
“I’m afraid not.” I hide a smile at the child’s disappointment. “But the king has an entire secret dungeon beneath the castle. Who knows what he keeps down there.” The light returns to his eyes.
“She has dragon breath,” Nicky replies, catching snippets of our conversation between bounces of a rubber ball. “Does that count?”
“No.” The little boy hoots with laughter, clutching his stomach.
I pretend-glare at Nicky. “My breath smells like strawberries, thank you very much.”
We move from one room to the next. Although Nicky and the bodyguards have placed a strict time limit on the visit, the plight of these innocent babies breaks my heart, and I refuse to rush. I’m amazed by the patients’ positive attitudes in the face of such adversity. Even Nicky is touched. I can see it in the softness of his gray eyes.
The visit is a sobering reminder of how blessed I am to be healthy and happy. I halt in the hallway between rooms. Am I happy? Right now, in this moment, the answer is yes. Making someone smile is the best repayment in the world. Everything I’ve suffered up to this point seems insignificant. My thoughts drift to Henry. Just imagining his displeasure over today’s visit makes my pulse race. Then I remember the way he ignored our meeting yesterday and his absence from bed last night.
“Something wrong?” Nicky touches my elbow. “You look sad.”
“I’m fine. It’s just—seeing these kids reminds me to be grateful for my life.” The lie rolls off my tongue.
“Liar.” He shoves his hands into his pockets and leans against the jam of the closed door.
The Rebel Queen Page 19
