The Royals Series

by Bay, Louise

  “You’re perfect. Let’s go and work out. You said there’s a pool here?”

  “How do you have this much energy? It’s annoying. You should be exhausted with all the hours in chambers and all the fucking last night.”

  “If you don’t want more of the fucking then we need to get to the gym.”

  I groaned and pushed myself up. My body couldn’t take any more. I needed at least a few hours off. I watched him for a couple of seconds. The sight of his tousled bedhead when he was always so put together in chambers was adorable. I tried to hide my grin as he began to dress.

  “Hey, where did the sportswear come from?”

  He glanced over at me, his eyes gleaming. “You’re too sexy.”

  I frowned when he didn’t answer my question.

  “My car. Where do you think?”

  I stumbled across the room and shut the door to the bathroom. Nothing about last night had been expected. Not Alexander showing up. Not the conversation. And not the sex. Had it really been how I remembered? I grinned around my toothbrush as I remembered the first orgasm, then the second. The way he was so powerful and in control of my body. The third and then the fourth. I’d loved the way he’d revealed a different side of himself last night—he’d removed the stick from his ass and focused on making me come in the best possible ways.

  “Come on,” he yelled from the bedroom. “Checkout’s at ten.”

  I rinsed my mouth and swung open the door. “Are you always this chirpy in the morning?” I put my hand on my hip and narrowed my eyes at him.

  “Are you always so irritable?”

  “I’m charming,” I corrected him. “At all times.”

  He chuckled. “I’ll try to remember that.” He pulled me close and took my face in his hands. “Did I tell you that you’re also completely beautiful?”

  “What has happened to you? Is this weekend Knightley?”

  He kissed me lightly on the lips and then released me. “Are you ready?” he asked, ignoring my question. His lightness had caught me off guard. Last night we’d escaped the world for a few short hours and existed outside reality. I’d fully expected to land back on earth with a thud this morning and be embarrassed by how open I’d been, by what I’d shared. But instead of feeling awkward, I wanted more of the same. More of Alexander Knightley.

  I dressed in my running gear and pulled out my sneakers from the closet. “So what happens now?” I asked. “With you and me?”

  “I thought you were all about living in the moment.”

  I followed him out of the bedroom. How was I going to the gym this early? “I thought you were all about the plan. Working toward something that’s so far away you can’t see it.”

  He grabbed my hand and picked up the pace.

  “We’re going to go to the gym, then come back to the room to shower and fuck. Then I’m going to drive you home.” He stopped. “Where do you live?”

  “Mayfair. Hill Street.”

  He scowled. “Really?”

  “My sister’s sister-in-law’s place. I told you.”

  He nodded and started down the stairs, pulling me after him. “And then I’m going back home—”

  “To the hotel?”

  “Where I live,” he agreed. “Then I’ll try to make up for all the time I lost last night and today.”

  I wanted to ask him about us. Would I see him again outside chambers? Were we still going for dinner this week?

  Where the fuck had Violet gone and could someone please bring her back?

  Maybe a run would do me good, get me to focus on right now, today, and let go of what may or may not come next week.

  Chapter Twenty

  Violet

  As I turned right into the clerks’ office, I glanced over at Alexander’s closed door and smiled. He was probably busy working away in there, doing that cute little frown thing he thought made him look ferocious but actually made him look sexy.

  Yesterday had gone exactly the way he’d said it would, although we made out in his car for ten minutes before he dropped me off. He was an incredible kisser. I bet he could make more money kissing for a living than he did from the law.

  “Hi, Jimmy,” I said as I passed his desk.

  “Violet. How was the spa?”

  I pressed my lips together to smother a smile. “Good. Relaxing.” I’d returned to London boneless and ready for bed, but I wasn’t sure the spa had been responsible for that. “How was your weekend?”

  “Great. United won.”

  I wasn’t sure what he meant but I high-fived him anyway and made my way to my desk. On top was another familiar, shiny black box like the one that had contained my skirt. I’d never had a man buy me gifts before. Hell, I could count the number of times a guy had bought me dinner on one hand.

  I took my coat off, dumping it on the chair, and pulled the ribbon off. I’d have to be quick. The others would start arriving soon. Reaching into the tissue paper, I pulled out some fabric—it was fine and delicate and as I held it up, I realized it was a sheer, black blouse. God, it was beautiful and would go perfectly with the skirt he’d bought. Voices drifted in from next door and quickly I folded the blouse, put the lid back on the box, and stuffed it into the bottom drawer of my desk.

  I checked the time on my phone. I had a meeting with Craig at nine to go through my proposal and didn’t want to be late. I just had a couple of things to print off and then I’d be done. I’d worked hard on the presentation. What he’d asked me to do was far more than just clerical work. He’d trusted me to make improvements in his business. He’d had faith that I’d be able to really make a difference. Nothing I’d done since I’d walked away from the start-up had felt as important, and I didn’t want to screw this up.

  Alexander and I had swapped numbers last night, and I sent him a quick thank-you. I’d messaged him last night to wish him sweet dreams, and I woke up to a reply telling me he’d dreamed of me. I couldn’t remember the last time I had butterflies at just the thought of a man.

  I felt as if I were floating. I wasn’t used to being giddy, particularly over a man. Bored, yes. Irritated, for sure. But Knightley was everything every other man had failed to be. Alexander was moody and demanding. He was ill-tempered and mercurial, but he was anything but boring.

  I printed off the final few things for my informal presentation and headed to Craig’s office.

  I knocked on the open door.

  “Violet. Excellent. Come in and have a seat. I’m excited to see what you have for us.”

  I sat down at the small conference table and pulled out a pack of papers for each of us.

  “So, I’ve broken down the areas for improvement into four categories: Billing, cash flow, real estate, and communications. Realistically I think we should focus on the first three because communications feeds into each of them.”

  Craig was nodding as he opened his pack of materials. “Excellent.”

  I took him through my report page by page, explaining where the issues were, backing up my findings with evidence and then telling him how I thought we could solve the problems. Some were simple operational solutions, but the overarching recommendation was for a new document management system that would link into the billing system and would improve cash flow.

  “It’s an ambitious plan,” he said, closing the presentation and leaning back in his chair. “But there’s nothing in here I disagree with. In fact, if paid consultants had come in and made the same recommendations, I wouldn’t be surprised. Have you ever thought about doing this kind of thing as a living?”

  “Like as a consultant?”

  “Exactly. You’ve pinpointed our issues as if you’ve been here for years, and your solutions are practical and workable. I’m impressed.”

  I wrung my hands under the table. He couldn’t have said anything that would have made me feel any better. To compare my work with a professional consultant was nothing short of jaw dropping. Not only had I not let him down—I’d not let me down. I’d proven
I was capable of more. Working here, being in London, I’d discovered that I wanted something bigger than what I was doing in my life in New York.

  “The only issue we have is the cost of the software and implementation.”

  “I’ve only done some high-level research—we’d definitely need to have an expert come in and provide a quote.”

  “And we’d need to find cost savings from elsewhere. There’s no way I’ll get the barristers to increase their contribution to pay for it. We’re not the cheapest chambers as it is.”

  “I understand. And I can look into it. My real estate recommendation might help. If you were to move into new offices, running costs would come down because you could use a purpose-built office more efficiently.”

  He nodded as he stroked his chin. “Look into it, will you? And let’s get the actual figure on how much the software would cost.” He closed the presentation pack and patted it with his hand. “This is excellent work, Violet.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I trust you’ll be with us a few more months? I think officially you’re due to finish at the end of the week otherwise.”

  “I would love to stay if you’ll have me.”

  “That’s agreed then.”

  Our meeting over, we left the table, and Craig opened the door to his office to the sound of a woman shouting. “Where is he?”

  Craig frowned as he followed me out into the corridor.

  “Craig,” said a tall, glamorous, blonde woman who looked nothing like the few female barristers in chambers but seemed to know her way around. “I’m looking for my husband.”

  “Mrs. Knightley, how marvelous to see you.”

  Mrs. Knightley? The walls of the corridor began to bend and curve as if they were about to collapse. I tried to think of possible explanations as to why Craig was calling this woman Mrs. Knightley and why she wanted to see her husband. Was there someone else in chambers with the same name? Was she Alexander’s mother? Of course I came up empty. I knew the answer. I just didn’t want to believe it.

  Alexander was married.

  “Craig, you’re very sweet, but I just want to speak to Alex. Is he in his office?”

  The familiar rattle of Alexander’s doorknob echoed down the corridor, and I watched as the man I’d had butterflies about this morning fill the frame of the door. “Gabby?” His eyes slid from his wife to me, then back to her. “What are you doing here?”

  She marched up the corridor and pushed past him into his office and shut the door.

  I turned to Craig, who said nothing, so I followed his lead, forced my mouth into a shape I hoped resembled a smile and headed back to my desk, clutching my presentation to my chest.

  Knightley was married?

  Was I the other woman?

  My stomach churned and my hands went slick with sweat. I wanted to be back in Connecticut with my sister, sitting in bed and watching reruns of the Golden Girls. I knew what being cheated on felt like. I understood what it was like to be in love with a man who didn’t respect me enough to keep it in his pants. How had I misjudged Knightley so badly? How had I become a woman I vowed never to be? I would never knowingly have sex with a man who had a wife or girlfriend, let alone share the things—the personal things—I had with Alexander. I’d thought I had learned my lesson with men already. I knew they were fundamentally untrustworthy—that’s why I never let myself get involved. I had proof. I didn’t need more evidence. How could I have been so stupid to be taken in by his taciturn charm? He was just like the rest of them—driven by their dicks and their egos. He better keep away from me because if he came within three yards, I’d punch him in the balls.

  Alexander

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, stalking back to my desk. It had been a long time since Gabby had turned up to chambers.

  “You promised me that you’d let me have the signed papers by the end of last week.”

  Shit. I’d totally forgotten. So much had happened last week and this weekend with Violet that it had completely slipped my mind. Gabby deserved better.

  “You promised me, Alex.” She looked dejected, beaten almost. “I need to move on.”

  I was used to Gabby angry, but I wasn’t used to seeing her upset. Yet this was the second time in just over a week that I’d seen her so vulnerable. It didn’t suit her, and I seemed to be the cause of her pain, which I hated myself for.

  “I bet you’ve been working all weekend and not given those papers a second thought.” Her gaze flitted over my desk.

  Guilt tugged at my chest. I’d not worked enough and I was paying the price today. It had been worth it though. There weren’t many times in my life I’d thought anything was more important than work, but spending the night and the next morning with Violet had been. It felt like being plugged into the mains after being on a fading generator for too long. My mind was clearer, sharper, even if my muscles ached from the hours we spent in bed together.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  She shook her head. “I’ve had enough of your apologies to last me a lifetime. Just sign the bloody papers. You promised.”

  I headed over to my desk and pulled out the manila envelope that had arrived a couple of weeks ago. I’d meant to look at it this weekend, but I’d been selfish, again. Neglected Gabby’s needs, again.

  I signed the last page, then worked my way page by page to the front of the document, initialing as I went. It was a standard document. Nothing contentious about it.

  “You see?” Gabby said. “It took you five seconds, and I’ve had to waste half a day coming out here.”

  “I know. I should have done it.”

  “I’d feel better if you’d have been having the weekend off. Doing something other than working. Have you thought that it might do you good to not spend every waking hour in chambers?”

  This weekend I’d taken the whole of Saturday night off and almost all of Sunday and although it had been worth it, I couldn’t do that regularly. It had left Gabby angry and me behind in my work. “I get the message Gabby—you think I work too much.”

  “Look, I never wanted to be the wife screaming at her husband. I used to hate myself after we’d argue.” She leaned against my desk. “As much as I wanted your attention, I also wanted you to be happy and have a good life. You’re a decent man and you deserve to do more than spend your whole life working.”

  I’d forgotten the good parts about Gabby in all the shouting. She was kind and compassionate and wanted the best for people.

  “Thank you,” I said. “But I’m doing what I always set out to do, Gabby,” I replied. “You don’t need to worry about me. I’ve chosen this life.”

  “I know.” She closed her eyes.

  “But I did take Saturday night off this weekend after our conversation in the garage.”

  “Wonders will never cease. Sometime in the next decade you might have worked yourself up to a whole weekend. You know, I just booked a holiday. I’m going to Sri Lanka. Did you ever go in the end?”

  I couldn’t remember going anywhere since I’d been to India during university. “No, never. Was I meant to?”

  “I remember you saying you always wanted to.”

  I squinted. “I did?”

  “Yeah. Before we were married you said it was next on your list—we even talked about it as a potential honeymoon before your workload meant we had a three-day trip to Wales instead. I guess you’ve still not made much progress on that list.”

  I had no memory of wanting to go to Sri Lanka. No memory of having a list of things I wanted to do or places I wanted to go. I’d thought law had always been my sole focus, but perhaps at some point I’d had other goals as well. “I guess not.”

  She shook her head. “I’ll send you a postcard—at least you’ll have a picture to show you what it’s like. I hope one day you figure it out yourself or meet a woman who can get through to you better than I ever did.”

  Perhaps I should try to organize my work to have a few more evening
s off. I’d enjoyed the night I’d spent with Violet. Talking with someone about something that wasn’t work had been surprisingly fun and the sex had been phenomenal as well.

  Gabby stuffed the papers into her bag, and we both walked across my office to the door.

  “Take care,” I said. I wanted to give her a hug. It seemed such a weird way to end things. “Enjoy Sri Lanka. I’ll be waiting for my postcard.”

  “Good luck,” she replied and gave me a half smile before heading down the corridor.

  As I went to shut my door, Violet passed by. I smiled at her but she just looked away and kept on walking.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Violet

  My phone buzzed. Alexander. Again. I flipped the phone face down on the duvet and sat back against the headboard.

  “Was that him?” Scarlett asked from the screen of my iPad. After spending most of the evening pouting, I’d finally called her for a video chat and told her about Alexander.

  “Yes, the lying, cheating asshole. I should have known better.” I pulled the arms of my soft gray sweater over my hands and crossed my arms.

  “I’m glad you opened up to someone,” she said, chopping some unidentified vegetable on the other side of the Atlantic.

  “Ha! You’ve got to be kidding, right?”

  “I know this is a setback but—”

  “A setback? Are you shitting me? I didn’t know he was married. He cheated on his wife. With me. I’m complicit in adultery and it’s all that asshole’s fault.”

  More chopping and slicing, for a salad, by the look of it. “I don’t know, Violet. I think you need to give him a chance to explain. Are you sure it was his wife? Maybe they’re divorced.”

  “You are so irritating when you’re doing this cup-half-full thing. Don’t you get it? I’m a cheater attractor.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve had a hundred boyfriends.” She paused. Boyfriends wasn’t what I’d call them and Scarlett knew that. “Kinda, since David, and none of them have cheated on you.”

  I didn’t want to tell her that I hadn’t given them the chance, that I’d tossed them to the curb before they had a chance to get bored with me and find someone else more interesting. “I’m the only one talking sense in this conversation. David was a cheater. Now Alexander. I just want to come home. At least in New York I could attract cheaters and drink diet Dr. Pepper. And it’s Thanksgiving in a few weeks. I could help decorate Mom and Dad’s place.”