The Royals Series

by Bay, Louise

  “Isn’t afraid to love me?” I finished for him.

  “It’s not about being afraid—I just can’t give you what you want,” he said, staring into the empty hearth where just a few weeks ago we’d toasted marshmallows and kissed so much that my face had been raw from the heat and his stubble.

  Had I always known it had been temporary? I had grown to love the man who was pulling my heart apart, and love wasn’t temporary. Not for me.

  At first, Logan was the most unsuitable man I could ever have dreamt up. He was born for the city, insisted on travelling by helicopter and wanted to destroy Woolton Village. He was far too handsome, too confident, too charming. But somewhere along the road, all the reasons I had not to fall for Logan Steele had drifted away. I couldn’t think of a man more perfect for me.

  “But surely what people want can change over time. You don’t fix in stone your ambitions and plans for your life and then never veer off course, no matter the consequences.”

  “Perhaps some people don’t. But for me, I don’t commit to anything unless I know I can see it through. That’s not a bad thing. This isn’t selfish, Darcy. I’m protecting you. It’s easier for you this way.”

  “I don’t need protecting from you. There is no certainty in the world. I of all people know that. And I’ve never asked for any guarantees from you.”

  “I can’t half-arse things. And if whatever was between us was to continue, I couldn’t predict what was down the line, that I wouldn’t let you down or disappoint you.”

  “But that’s life, Logan.”

  “It’s not a life I want to live.”

  He’d stolen any response I had and my hands began to shake. My body weakened. There was no comeback if he didn’t want me. If he didn’t want to try. Whatever we had wasn’t enough for him. Or maybe it was too much.

  “So that’s it. Game over. We shake hands and move on?” It was a stupid question—that was exactly what he was saying. It just felt so hopeless. So heartless. Such a waste.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Well, that’s okay then,” I snipped. I couldn’t make him love me or want a life with me. And I could tell from the way he couldn’t look at me that his mind was set and I wasn’t going to change it.

  I’d never been in love before Logan, but I’d spent the last few months wanting to share every thought, every moment with him, and now I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see him again. I was going to have to find my strength.

  One step at a time. I just needed to get out of the library without breaking down. Without collapsing at the thought that he’d never hold me again, that I’d never watch his muscles flex as he showered, that I’d never hear him talk about the students from his old school.

  He was the first man other than my brother and grandfather that I’d ever felt was on my side and in my corner like he could become part of my family, and now he was walking away. Abandoning me. And I was left on my own. My chest felt hollow and the taste of metal lingered on my tongue. I needed to leave. It was too painful to sit here and watch him go.

  “I’ll see you around,” I said as I stood.

  “I’m sorry.”

  I ignored him. An apology was the last thing I wanted from him. And I’d lost my voice as he’d ripped my heart into pieces.

  I swept past him and through the door. All I could do now was wait for time to pass and for my feelings to fade. Because that was what people did, right? They got over heartbreak. I was sure it was possible in the abstract, but right then and there I couldn’t see how it could be true.

  I walked as fast as I could without running and straight up the stairs. I wanted to dive into my bed and not come out until this pain had relented.

  Until I’d stopped loving Logan Steele.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Logan

  I had to remind myself who I was. I stepped out of the car and tipped my head up to take in the tower of offices in front of me, trying to breathe in the sense of power I normally got from business. My usual view of my workplace on a Monday morning was from the top of the tower as I arrived by helicopter. It had seemed distasteful to break things off with Darcy then fly out of the village, so I’d arranged a car.

  Today was the last time Darcy would knock me off course.

  Her reaction had played through my mind on the journey in. I hadn’t been expecting her to be so calm. When I’d brought up the pregnancy tests, she’d acted like it was no big deal. She had me questioning myself. Did women worry about getting pregnant a lot? I had no experience with a pregnancy scare. I wore condoms whenever I was with a woman. And I was pretty sure that with my money, if anything had gone wrong, I’d have heard about it.

  Was it as easy as she’d said it was—she was late, she tested, it was negative? Maybe so, but it couldn’t undo the train of thought that it had unlocked.

  For months, I’d insisted on living in the moment, not thinking about the future, not remembering about how I wasn’t built to be part of a couple or to be someone’s husband. Seeing those pregnancy tests meant I was forced back into reality. Darcy and I were a couple and even the smallest habits and expectations couldn’t be ignored. The way I’d been staying over at Woolton Hall each weekend, the way I wanted to hear her thoughts about everything that happened when I wasn’t with her, the way I couldn’t wait to see her whenever we were apart.

  We weren’t friends who hung out. And that wasn’t ever part of my plan.

  “Good morning, Mr. Steele,” a receptionist greeted me as I swept past. Her smile and the way she cocked her head was a little familiar. Did I know her? As I waited for a lift, she looked back at me over her shoulder. Her black hair was swept up into a bun, her lips bright red, her tanned skin glowed—physically, she was Darcy’s complete opposite and exactly the type of woman I used to fuck.

  I hadn’t noticed her on reception before. Was the fact that I had now a sign? Proof that I’d moved on, that life would get back to normal now?

  I took the lift up to the top floor to find my assistant waiting for me as the doors opened. “Malcolm is in your office.”

  I glanced at my watch. “I’ve been tied up this morning.”

  “You want the helicopter on Thursday or shall I stand them down again?”

  I sucked in a breath. I’d only been going back to Badsley on a Thursday because of my grandmother’s fall, then because I’d wanted to spend more time with Darcy. “No, not Thursday. I’ll be in the office on Friday. And I’ll take a car back to Badsley in the evening.”

  I’d been right to call things off with Darcy, but I knew how much the helicopter irritated her, and I didn’t need to torture her by flying over Woolton Hall.

  “I hope you have good news for me,” I told Malcolm as I rounded my desk and took off my jacket, placing it on the back of my chair.

  “I do. We’re all on schedule. The plans have been approved and construction is due to start at the beginning of next week.”

  “And do you have the operational plans?”

  “I’m still working on those. I know you want to be heavily involved, so I’m trying to work the timetable around that.”

  He was right. I’d wanted to oversee every detail of Manor House Club when I’d first arrived at the concept. This would be the first business that I’d ever built from the ground up and I wanted to ensure everything was being done as I planned. But things had changed. I needed some distance from anything that reminded me of Darcy.

  “I’ve got a number of things that have come up that are going to be pulling my focus for the next few months, so I’m going to ask you to take the lead on most of the Manor House Club development, including the operational plans.”

  I needed to be in the city. It was where I belonged. Where Darcy wasn’t. I was never suited to the country. And I’d made my fortune by having good people around me that I trusted. I wasn’t a micromanager and I wouldn’t change that just because this was my first organically grown business. I needed to stick to my plan, get back to what I was
good at.

  “Whatever works for you. Do you want to come down in a week or so to see progress?”

  I brought up my emails. “No, you can brief me with reports and any necessary photographs. I do want to see the operation plans, but don’t build me into them. If you need additional resources, then bring me the rationale and we’ll discuss it. Is there anything else?”

  Malcolm rose from his seat. “Not at all. I’ll get right on that.”

  I’d just moved out of his way and given him additional responsibility. I’d say I was Malcolm’s favorite person right now.

  I was used to making decisions that involved a lot of money, time, people, and resources, and I always knew I’d made the right one by how I felt a couple of hours after the hammer came down. Being back in London now, everything felt great. I was cleaning house. Getting back to normal.

  Back to life before Darcy Westbury.

  The day passed quickly in a whirr of meetings and conference calls. A couple of times I found myself checking my phone for messages from Darcy. Another habit, another routine that I’d acquired without realizing it. I’d soon get over it. Thank God I’d ended things before I’d gotten in any deeper. Although she’d told me she loved me, I knew how resilient she was. She’d soon realize this was best for both of us. We’d just have made each other unhappy if we’d dragged things out.

  I just needed to make sure I kept busy and distracted for a while so my mind didn’t wander to her. I’d double my efforts at the gym, perhaps kick off a strategy overhaul for our overseas businesses.

  I made my way out of lifts and across the lobby and glanced across at the reception desk.

  “Working late, Mr. Steele?” the same sleek-haired brunette asked as we locked eyes.

  I slowed my pace. After eight, most of the office staff had already gone home. “You too, I see.” The way she singled me out suggested I knew her, but I was sure I’d never spoken to her before.

  “I’ve got ten minutes until I finish for the day. Thought I might grab a drink if you know anywhere?” Her eyes danced brightly as she spoke.

  “Excuse me if I’m being rude, but do I know you?”

  “I see you come into the office each day, though not usually on a Monday. Rumor has it that you fly in by helicopter to start the week—but I guess it’s in for scheduled maintenance today.”

  I smiled, finally understanding what was going on. “Something like that.” I’d forgotten that this was how I picked up women. Meeting a backward glance, noticing a smile across a lobby. This was me getting back to normal.

  “I’m having dinner at the French brasserie on Threadneedle Street,” I said.

  “I love that place.” Her tongue dipped out of her lips.

  “Well, you’d be very welcome to join me when your day is over.”

  “Then I’ll see you then,” she said.

  I nodded and headed out.

  Yes, this felt right. This was the old Logan Steele. I was back.

  The air was warm and thick as I stepped out of the air-conditioned offices and I realized I’d not been outside all day.

  “Mr. Steele,” the restaurant owner greeted me as I arrived. “So good to see you again. Can I get you a table at the bar?”

  “That would be great.” I was just planning to enjoy her flirting, see if I wanted to fuck her, and then we’d leave. We’d eat something light at the bar—there was no point in clogging up a table. We wouldn’t be here long.

  I’d taken my second sip of whiskey when she walked in. Several heads turned as she paused at the top of the steps. She was striking rather than pretty. Tall—a good four or five inches taller than Darcy and had the tanned skin and kind of athletic shape that I’d always gone for.

  “Is this seat taken?” she asked as she came up behind me.

  “I believe I've kept it free for you,” I said. With her huge saucer-like brown eyes and perfect skin, she was even more attractive up close.

  She slid onto the stool next to mine with an easy grace.

  “What would you like to drink? And eat?”

  “A glass of white wine would be great,” she said. “But I’ll pass on the food.”

  “Can I get a glass of—” I turned to her. “What kind would you like?”

  “I really don’t mind.”

  I nearly asked for sauvignon blanc—Darcy’s favorite. “Can we get a glass of white wine here please?” I asked the waiter, then turned back to the woman next to me. “You do seem to know more about me than I know about you—let’s start with your name.”

  “Abigail,” she said.

  It didn’t suit her. Abigail was a name I’d expect someone in Woolton Village to have, rather than someone working in the City of London. “How long have you worked in the building?”

  “About three months,” she said. “You’ve never come in the front door on a Monday morning—what was different about today?”

  Three months. Three months ago, I’d moved to Badsley. Three months ago, I’d met Darcy. Apparently, three months ago I’d stopped noticing other women. Was that what monogamy was like? Had I stopped noticing beautiful women because I’d been happy with Darcy?

  “Nothing different,” I replied. I wasn’t about to confess that I’d ended whatever had been between me and the first woman I’d ever cared for. I didn’t want to think about it, let alone talk about it. I’d done the right thing. Now I needed to get back to normal. Get back to the life I knew.

  “Where does your helicopter normally fly in from?”

  The waiter placed a glass of white wine in front of her and blushed when she smiled at him. There was no doubt Abigail was beautiful. Three months ago, we’d have skipped the drinks and I'd have made her come by now. But I was rusty.

  “I have a place in the country.”

  She took a sip of her wine and tilted her head before swallowing. “How nice, but do you have a place nearby as well?”

  She traced her finger across my wrist. I liked a woman who knew what she wanted, especially when she only wanted something physical. Abigail was exactly what I needed. “Yeah, I have a place. And even better, there’s a hotel just around the corner.”

  “Sounds good. I’m not a girl with much patience. When I see what I want, I tend to go for it.”

  She was perfect to get me back on track. Assertive, beautiful, and most importantly, right in front of me. “Do you know how to do as you’re told?” I asked. I didn’t want to waste my time.

  She paused. “I prefer to be told rather than asked.”

  I nodded. She ticked every box. But I hadn’t asked for the bill yet. I needed to get the fuck out of my own head and focus on the here and now. I was usually so good at that. “Are you sure I can’t get you something to eat?”

  She fingered the rim of her glass and looked up at me through her eyelashes. “I don't like to exercise on a full stomach.”

  The ball was firmly in my court. I could ask for the bill, take her to the nearest hotel and fuck Darcy Westbury out of my system—or I could go home and spend the night tossing and turning, wondering exactly what Darcy was doing.

  It should have been an easy choice.

  Before Darcy, there wouldn’t have been a decision to make. But whether or not I liked it, I was beginning to realize that the last three months had changed everything.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Darcy

  I thought a different bed would be better, but I hadn’t slept a wink for the third night in a row.

  The noise of chaos got louder as I padded downstairs toward the open-plan living area. The television, the baby squealing, the crash of crockery and the unmistakable sound of my brother trying to keep his temper was why I’d come to Connecticut in the first place. Distraction. Back at Woolton, everywhere I looked, Logan was staring back at me. I needed a change of scenery. I needed to be in an environment where I could breathe again.

  “Did you sleep well?” Scarlett asked. “The best part of this morning, like any morning in this house, is th
at we have an enormous pot of coffee. Can I get you a cup?”

  “That would be great, thanks.” I could have gone to stay with Violet and Alexander, and at least then I would have been in the city, but I’d needed the noise of being here, needed the chaos that only children, my brother and his wife created. There was something about family that made me feel safe.

  “You look pretty,” Scarlett said.

  I’d managed to shower, wash my hair and shrug into jeans and a white shirt—Scarlett was clearly trying to make me feel better. “I’ve not slept in three days and I’m not wearing a scrap of makeup to try and hide it. I definitely don’t look pretty.”

  She glanced up from the toast she was buttering. “You look absolutely wonderful—isn’t that right, Ryder?”

  Ryder scooped up Toby from the floor and slotted him into his high chair. “She has Westbury genes. What did you expect?”

  Scarlett rolled her eyes and gave the slice of buttered toast to her son, who placed his palm flat on the bread as if he were trying to make a handprint.

  “I thought we’d go shopping today, have some lunch. We’ll take the driver so we can have a glass of champagne.”

  “Aren’t you going to work?” I’d expected to spend the day messing around with the kids, getting under the nanny's feet, and maybe even taking a dip in the pool.

  “Absolutely not. I want to spend some time with you. I don’t get to see you often enough.”

  I didn’t want to be mollycoddled. I wanted to get back to normal, I wanted my heart to feel less heavy. “You don’t have to babysit me.”

  “I know. If I thought you did, I’d leave you with the nanny. I want to take advantage of you being here, skip work and have a girls’ day.”

  Ryder came up to his wife, put his arm around her neck and pulled her into a friendly headlock. “I love you,” he said and he kissed on the top of her head the way Logan used to do to me.

  I turned and stared out the French doors over the water. I concentrated on keeping my breathing steady and tried to empty my mind of Logan. It would get better. It had to get better. But at the moment, all I could think about was being with him again.