by Isla Olsen
I hesitate once again before padding across the carpeted floors to the bedroom. Jai is asleep with the blankets bunched around his waist to reveal a tan, toned chest and arms, the sight of which have my mouth going dry.
Why have I come here? Why have I come here? The thought is a loop in my head, the question causing a knot of anxiety to form in my gut. I’m about to turn and leave when Jai shifts, obviously sensing my presence.
“You actually came,” he murmurs sleepily. “I figured when you didn’t show up last night. But wow…”
“I’m not sure why I’m here,” I admit.
“Okay.” He repositions himself so he’s sitting up against the headboard.
We stare at each other awkwardly for a few moments and then I decide to drag a chair over from the corner of the room and sit next to the bed. “I need to apologize for how I’ve behaved since…” I wave my hand in the air, searching for the word. “The interlude.”
He arches a brow. “You mean when you sucked my cock?”
“Yes…that.” Christ, even just hearing the word ‘cock’ on those lips has my trousers growing tight. I force the erection away before continuing, “You have to understand, that is not something I do. It’s not how I behave.”
He eyes me curiously, his tone hesitant as he suggests, “You seemed to like it…”
“That’s not the point. It’s something that shouldn’t have happened. And it can’t happen again. Nothing can happen between us.”
He nods, his disappointment clear. “You’re a king and I’m a lowly tutor. I get it.”
I shake my head. “No. I’m a king and you’re a man.”
He stares at me for a moment before letting out a sigh. “And homophobia strikes again.”
“That’s the situation. It’s how things need to be,” I say firmly.
His eyes widen in shock. “Jesus. You’re gay, aren’t you? I thought you were just experimenting, but you’re actually gay?”
“Please, if you could say it louder that would be wonderful,” I grit out.
“Did Queen Lesia know?”
“Yes.”
“So she was your beard?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “She was my best friend and the mother of my children. Show some respect.”
His expression immediately becomes contrite. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive. I’m just…confused. I don’t see why you’ve had to hide this? Prince Aleksandr’s gay and no one seems to mind.”
“Aleksandr isn’t king,” I point out. “And he conveniently waited until well after our father was dead to come out.”
Jai nods slowly, dawning realization evident on his handsome face. “I see. I’ve read about your father, you know. It must have been very difficult growing up gay with that kind of…influence.”
The thought of my father has a cold shiver running down my back, as though I’ve been doused in ice water. What in hell am I doing here? Sneaking into a man’s bedroom in the dead of night? A palace employee’s at that.
I didn’t come here to apologize or explain myself. That could have been easily done in the light of day. I came because I was too weak to stay away.
With new resolve, I stand and give a firm shake of my head. “I shouldn’t be here. It was wrong of me to come.”
“Because I kind of technically work for you? Or because I’m a man?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Whoa, whoa, yes it does.” He’s out of bed and prowling toward me in an instant, his long, lean body clad in nothing but a pair of tight black boxer briefs and the sight is just too much. I avert my gaze as best I can, but even from the corner of my eye I can see his arms crossed over his chest and his jaw set tight. “If you think it’s inappropriate to be here because I teach your kids, that’s fine. But if this is because of your weird homophobia…”
“I’m not homophobic,” I state defiantly.
“You’re afraid of being gay. What else would you call it?”
“I’m not afraid…”
“You just think it’s wrong.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, my jaw tight with frustration. “You’re putting words in my mouth. It’s not a simple as you think.”
“But it is simple.” He reaches out and clasps my hand, his thumb running back and forth over my skin in a gentle rhythm. “It’s not wrong to want someone. It’s not wrong to feel.”
I shake my head. “I’m the king. I need to be stronger than that.”
He lets out a heavy sigh. “Strength doesn’t come from denying yourself something that would make you happy.” He lifts a hand to my face, rubbing his thumb across my cheek. “Forget about your father. Forget about me. Forget about the crown. There’s only one thing you should be considering here. What do you want?”
I shake my head sharply, prompting his hand to fall away. “This is what you don’t understand. What I want doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does,” Jai says, his voice a mere whisper. “Lukas, your father is dead. He’s not here to judge you or control you or punish you. You’re king now. And that doesn’t have to be a burden—not unless you let it be.”
I slump onto the edge of the bed, my head weighted down with a million scrambled thoughts. I barely even notice Jai approaching me, not until he kneels in front of me and takes my hands in his.
“Okay, I’m just going to put this out there,” he says. “I like you. Like really, really like you. I know I shouldn’t because you’re a grumpy asshole who likes to pretend I don’t exist. But I see how sweet you are with the kids, and how much you care about your brother, and, yes, I’ve noticed the way you relax when you’re working on a car…and I just can’t help it. I get all the feels. And you’re also ridiculously sexy and give incredibly amazing blowjobs so there’s that.
“But here’s the thing. I’m not going to push you into anything you’re not comfortable with. Even though I know you want me just as much as I want you. Even though I know you haven’t been able to stop thinking about me since I first got here. I’m not going to push it. I’m not going to keep chasing you. I want you to want to want me. Make sense?”
I blink at him a few times. “I…suppose?”
He gets off his knees and sits beside me on the bed. “I think we could be friends.”
My brows shoot up. “Friends?”
“Sure. I mean, we’re not going to be having sex. At least not until you realize it’s perfectly fine to want me—once that happens we’ll be doing it, like, twenty-four seven so clear your schedule. But until then we should be friends. The whole you ignoring me thing just isn’t going to fly anymore.”
I’d be lying if I said the thought of a twenty-four-hour sex marathon with this man didn’t send a little thrill of desire running through me. But it’s matched by feelings of panic and anxiety and I know there’s no way it’ll come to that. “You’re very confident I’m going to change my mind.”
He shakes his head slowly, the corner of his mouth tilting up in a sad smile. “I don’t need to change your mind. I need to open your mind.”
I feel as though I’m standing on the precipice of something, and accepting Jai’s offer of friendship will be the thing to push me right over. I should say no. I should simply return to ignoring him. He’s my children’s tutor, there’s no reason for us to socialize or become confidants of any sort. But there’s also no reason for us not to. This could be a kind of middle ground, a way to spend time with the intriguing American without actually giving in to those urges.
“Very well. Friends,” I say, holding my hand out for him to shake.
He takes it, lingering far longer than is generally acceptable as he shakes his agreement. “Friends.” He lets go of my hand and offers a dry smirk. “Now, as a friend, I kindly ask you to get the fuck out of my room. I need my beauty sleep.”
11
JAI
I’m not going to lie, my heart broke a little when I heard all the crap Lukas was saying in my room the other night. Not for me, though. For him.
It’s beyond obvious he’s fighting a major struggle within himself, and that he has been for a long time, and it killed me to see him so torn up with misplaced shame and fear.
But I’m determined to prove to him what he feels for me isn’t wrong, and I don’t care how long it takes. Because he does feel something for me. It’s not just in my head, and it’s not just wishful thinking. I’m sure of it now.
“Jai! Jai! Jai! Look at me! Jai! You’re not looking!”
With a chuckle, I put down my laptop and glance over at the princess, who’s just come bounding down from her room dressed in her Halloween costume.
“Oh, my god!” I gasp. “Queen Elsa! I can’t believe you’re here, all the way from Arendelle! Did you come for a meeting with the king?”
Katya lets out a wild giggle and rushes over to me. “Jai, it’s not really Queen Elsa. It’s me, Katya.”
“Really?” I ask in mock surprise. “Your costume’s so convincing!”
She sits herself on the sofa next to me, her little legs dangling over the side and swinging back and forth to kick at the base. “Can we go yet?”
“Your brother isn’t here yet. And your papa wants to see you before we leave.”
Despite some initial reluctance because of how uncommon the practice of trick-or-treating is in this part of the world, Lukas had eventually relented after seeing how exited the children were about the prospect. They’re to stay inside the palace, though, and Veronika’s been busy over the past few days making sure everyone has little treats on hand to share with the prince and princess when they come knocking. I actually think the palace staff are starting to get just as excited about the novelty of the occasion as the children are.
A moment later, Prince Tomas rushes down the stairs dressed as Harry Potter, complete with a Gryffindor scarf around his neck, a wand in his hand, and a lightning bolt scar on his forehead. The only glaring difference between the prince and everyone’s favorite boy wizard is Tomas’s dirty blond hair.
I decide not to pull the same act with Tomas as I did with Katya because he’s eleven and won’t appreciate it the way his sister did. “Wow, Your Highness, you look fantastic! Just like Harry!”
Tomas frowns. “It would look better if I had black hair like Harry does, but papa said I wasn’t allowed to dye it.”
“I think that’s a wise decision,” I say. “I dyed my hair once and it didn’t go well. And it took forever for it to grow out.”
“What color was it?” Katya asks.
“Well, I wanted it to be blond, but it came out green.”
I hear a rumbling chuckle coming from the doorway of the living room and turn to see Lukas has arrived to catch the last snippet of the conversation.
“I hope you have pictures,” he says, eyes gleaming with amusement.
“They’ve all been burned.”
I’m surprised when Lukas decides to come trick-or-treating with us, as are pretty much all the palace staff we come across. But it turns out to be a good thing, because by the time we’ve finished traipsing all over the palace—including the section at the opposite end that houses the Parliament chambers and other government offices—Katya is dead on her feet and needs to be carried back to the residential suites. The image of Lukas holding his sleeping daughter in his arms makes me just want to melt. Pretty sure I vaguely resemble that emoji with the heart eyes right about now.
A week into this ‘just friends’ arrangement with Lukas, I am seriously doubting the wisdom of my suggestion. Him constantly ignoring and avoiding me was frustrating, but now that we’re in close proximity on a regular basis? Let’s just say my balls have never been bluer.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m enjoying getting to know him better, and I love spending time with him just sharing a glass of wine in the evenings, or playing a game of Scrabble, or helping him in his garage—and by helping I mean standing there staring at his ass while he works on his cars—but doing all that while not being able to touch him is pure torture. And compensating with my hand will only get me so far…
“Why are you cooking?” Owen asks. I have his FaceTime call set up on my tablet so I can talk to him while I’m busy making papanasi as a treat for the children. “You only cook when you’re mad or upset.”
Or frustrated…
“I’m making a treat for the prince and princess,” I tell him, not wanting to go into detail about why I felt the urge to let off some steam in the kitchen. “Papanasi.”
“What’s that again?”
“They’re Romanian fried donuts with cheese inside.”
“Wow, sounds healthy.”
I shrug. “That’s why it’s a treat. And I’m allowed to spoil them with shit, I’m not their father.”
“Speaking of their father…I heard you danced with him at some big party.”
My head snaps up. “That made it to the States?”
Owen nods. “Yup. Is there something going on between you guys?”
I return to my task of kneading the papanasi dough. Even if Lukas and I had crossed over to that next stage, I don’t think I’d be able to tell Owen about it because of the NDA I signed when I started working here. I decide to go with a version of the truth. “We’re friends.”
“You’re friends?” he asks skeptically. “With the king?”
“Yep. We play Scrabble together.”
“Scrabble?” He lets out a soft chuckle. “Is that some kind of euphemism.”
I glance up from my task of dividing out the dough so I can glare at him. ““No, asshole. We literally play Scrabble. He’s not very good.”
“By your standards, maybe. Not everyone’s a walking dictionary, man.”
We move on from the topic of Lukas, and Owen tells me more about the house he and his boyfriend have just moved into. It’s a brownstone in Greenwich Village, not far from the apartment Owen and I used to share, apparently. And from the way he’s talking about it and the pictures I’ve seen, it sounds absolutely amazing.
“I’ll have to come for a visit so I can see it for myself,” I tell him.
“There’s a guest room all set up for you when you do.”
“I didn’t realize you were such an accomplished chef,” Lukas says, biting into one of the freshly cooked papanasi, which, by popular demand, have become a bit of a regular thing since I first made them about a week ago.
“You’re not supposed to eat them like that,” I chide. “You should wait until I put the toppings on.”
It’s just the two of us in the kitchen right now. The prince and princess have gone to bed and Lukas and I have Scrabble plans. I made the smart decision to save back a few papanasi when I was making them earlier so the kids wouldn’t hog them all, and I’ve just finished cooking them.
“They’re delicious either way,” he says, holding one out to me.
I take it and pop it into my mouth, savoring the sweetness of the fried dough combined with the mild, fresh taste of the cheese. They certainly taste better with all the toppings, but Lukas is right—they’re still delicious like this.
“If you keep cooking like this, we’re all going to have cholesterol problems,” he says wryly.
“It’s your fault,” I blurt out.
His brows creep up to his hairline. “My fault?”
Ah, shit. I so did not mean to let that slip. I rake a hand through my hair as I try to figure a way out of this, but decide I may as well just plow on now I’ve said it. “Ah, yeah. I cook when I need to relax. And these past couple of weeks, with us spending so much time together, I’ve been very not relaxed. The sexual frustration is real.” I let out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry. I know I promised I wouldn’t push you, and I swear that’s not what this is. It just kind of…came out.”
He doesn’t say anything for a while and I don’t dare look at him, knowing I’m going to see that freaked out expression that tells me he’s about to run. His fingers slide under my chin, prompting my gaze to meet his, and I’m surprised at what I find there. There’s no fear or a
pprehension. There’s warmth, and an undeniable flicker of desire.
We just stare at each other for a few moments, and then he surprises the hell out of me by running his thumb over my bottom lip.
“Cheese,” he explains with a quirk of his lips. Then he puts his thumb to his own mouth, licking away the cheese. God, does he even know how hot he is?”
“Lukas, I—”
But I don’t have a chance to finish, because he leans forward to close his mouth over mine, cutting off whatever I was about to say. I can’t even remember what that was now.
Before I can think better of it, I lift my hands to grip at his hair, pulling him even closer as my mouth opens for his seeking tongue.
12
LUKAS
I’ve tried to push away this attraction, to lock it up in a box in my mind and pretend it doesn’t exist. But I can’t do that anymore. And, more importantly, I don’t want to. He was right. The cocky bastard was one hundred per cent right when he predicted this. That one day my mind would open and I’d be okay with my feelings, that I’d want to want him.
It’s been happening, bit by bit, over the past two weeks, and now I just can’t deny it anymore.
“Lukas…” He breathes my name out as if it’s a prayer. “Tell me…”
I know exactly what he’s asking. He wants reassurance that I’m not going to run away again, that this is the real thing.
I press gentle kisses along his jaw, until I get to his ear. “I want you, kotya,” I murmur. “I’m not running away anymore.”
His mouth stretches into a sexy grin. “Kotya? …Kitten?”
“Mmhmm.” I press a kiss to his neck. “A feisty one.”
I silence his laugh with a kiss that quickly becomes heated and all-consuming.
