by T. K. Leigh
I rest my hand over his and squeeze. “I did the same thing after Hunter. It’s how I ended up marrying Jeremy. He helped me forget.”
“We tried to keep whatever we had going on under wraps, but the paparazzi found us together on the French Riviera and the photos went viral. Since then, the entire country assumed we’d eventually get married. Saw her as someone who helped heal my broken heart, even though neither of us were interested in anything serious. We had an arrangement we’d hoped to keep quiet.
“As a royal, if you go public with a relationship — hell, if you’re frequently seen in public together with the same person — you’d better be ready to announce your wedding date. We went our separate ways roughly three years ago, right after the photos were leaked. But that didn’t stop the rumors from circulating, especially whenever we were photographed together at an event we both just happened to be at.” He brings his gaze back to mine as he clutches my hands in his. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about her sooner. I just—”
“I do know you’ve been with women before me, Anders. You have nothing to apologize for. As long as you haven’t been with anyone since we got together, that’s all I care about.”
“And I haven’t.” He cups my cheek. “How could I be with someone when you’re the only woman who possesses my heart?”
On a sigh, I angle toward him, my lips seeking his. He tugs me closer, his fingers digging into my hair. A part of me wants to crawl on top of him so we can continue what we started earlier. But we need to finish this conversation. Not remain blissfully ignorant of it, like we’ve spent the past several months of our relationship.
When Anderson brings our kiss to an end, I straighten, smiling sadly at him. “I imagine nobody bent over backwards to offer their congratulations when they heard about the pregnancy.”
“That may be the understatement of the century,” he scoffs with a roll of his eyes. “They brought up a few things I absolutely will not repeat to you because their suggestions aren’t even an option to me.”
“What did they propose?”
He gives me a grave look, and I know precisely what he’s referring to. A chill washes down my spine.
“Oh.”
“I refused. Told them that to even suggest such a thing was an insult to me and the child who would eventually become their king or queen.” He places his hand over my stomach.
I grit out a smile, pretending to have the same enthusiasm over the pregnancy as Anderson seems to. I’m trying so hard to be excited, but I still live with the fear of something going wrong.
Still remember enduring over twenty hours of labor, knowing full well I wouldn’t be greeted with a crying baby.
Wouldn’t peer into her vibrant eyes and marvel at this human I created.
Wouldn’t bask in her tiny hands wrapping around my finger.
Instead, all I had was mere minutes to hold her lifeless body before she was taken from me.
I am absolutely petrified of going through that again.
“Which was when I was reminded about the laws of succession. And illegitimacy.”
“Illegitimacy?”
He slowly nods. “If our child is born outside of wedlock, he or she won’t be considered an heir. Won’t be considered part of the royal family. Won’t ascend to the crown.”
“So we’ll need to marry before he or she is born.”
“Not just before the birth. They want us to marry before, well… Before it’s obvious. My father suggested within the next eight weeks.”
“Eight weeks? It won’t take a genius to figure it out. Especially once the baby is born. All it will take is some simple math.”
“I said the same thing. But he believes people will be so distracted by the wedding, then the pregnancy announcement, that they’ll be too excited to do the math. By the time the baby’s born and anyone does stop to do the math, the referendum vote will be behind us.”
“But eight weeks?” I protest once more. “Evie and Chloe are in their third trimester. They can’t travel.”
“I wish I had an answer, but I don’t. This is the only way for our child to be considered an heir and part of the royal family.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat, frustration heating my face. I knew whatever kept Anderson at the palace most of the afternoon wouldn’t be happy news. I just didn’t expect this. I thought we’d have more time. Would be able to acclimate ourselves to this life together in Belmont. Then as new parents. Then as a married couple. Thought I’d be able to have my friends by my side at my wedding to the man of my dreams.
That plan has disappeared in the blink of an eye.
“And if we don’t agree to their proposal? If we still want to do things our way? Get married on our own schedule after the baby is born?”
“My father will be forced to rescind his approval.”
“What?” I exclaim. “Why?”
“The Royal Marriages Act,” he says with a shrug. “It automatically revokes any approval the king’s given to an heir and a person of ‘loose morals’.”
“Loose morals? What the hell is this? Puritanical England?”
“It was written in the early eighteenth century in order to ensure only people of the highest standards marry into the royal family. Prevent scandal. Unfortunately, one of the examples written into the act is someone having a child outside of wedlock.”
“Unbelievable.” The chains around me tighten with every word Anderson speaks.
I haven’t even been here a full day and can already say with unequivocal certainty that the fairy tales many little girls grow up obsessing over are a bunch of bullshit. A girl doesn’t meet a prince and get to ride into the sunset without a care in the world. No. They must get the monarch’s permission, which can be revoked at any time.
“And if you were to marry me without the king’s approval?”
“I’d lose my place in the line of succession and would no longer be a member of the royal family.”
“So the only way for you to be king and us to stay together is to marry soon.”
“I’m afraid so.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and draw in a deep breath. Positive energy in. Negative energy out.
I could exhale for the next hundred years and doubt I’d be able to expel all the negative energy in this place.
“Nora, listen to me,” Anderson’s urgent voice cuts through. I turn my eyes toward his. He takes my hands in his, clutching them tightly. “I’m not going to sit here and tell you what to do. Only you can decide if this is really what you want. But I want you to be aware of what you’ll have to give up. Your privacy. Your anonymity. Your independence. It will all disappear, and you’ll never be able to get it back. Right now, you can walk away. It will absolutely shatter me, but I won’t be angry. I will completely understand. After everything you’ve been through, you deserve to be deliriously happy. Unfortunately, I don’t have that same option. I can’t walk away. As frustrated as I am at times with the politics at play, especially within the royal household, I still love this country and its people. I want to do right by them. I want to be their leader. But you don’t have to sacrifice yourself for me.”
I peer forward, watching as the ocean waves crash against the rocky shoreline in the distance. It reminds me of Manderley, the fictional estate from Rebecca. The stunning interior cared for by a silent staff. Gorgeous gardens that are home to a fragrant array of blooms. The mysterious ocean nearby where the title character sank to a watery grave.
Will our story end much like that of the unnamed narrator and Maxim DeWinter, who was driven from a home haunted by custom and protocol?
Or will we find our own happily ever after, despite all the forces working against us?
I bring my gaze back to Anderson, admiring his stoic profile. “Is it worth it?”
“I know my answer will probably surprise you, considering everything we’re currently facing, but yes…” A subtle smile curves his mouth. “It’s worth it. I’ve probably made this
life sound horrible, but it’s not all bad. I’m lucky to be blessed with an opportunity to do good. Not only in this country, but in the world. To bring attention to a variety of causes. Truthfully, the majority of the job is great.”
“And the rest of it?”
He pushes out a breath. “It can be frustrating. And exhausting. As a royal, you’re held to a higher standard. A more…moral standard, I suppose. My mother had this saying when we were kids, especially after my uncle and cousins died. Something she said to me whenever I complained about being in a London boarding school and missing my home and friends.”
“What’s that?”
“‘With great power comes great purpose.’”
Sadness hints at the lines of his face as he recalls his mother. Or at least what he can remember of her after having lost her when he was only ten.
“I’d like to think I’ve lived most of my adult life according to that motto. That my family may possess a great deal of power in this country, but that we use it for good. For a purpose. And you can, too. But only if this is what you truly want.”
He reaches into his pocket before extending his hand toward me, revealing a single penny in his palm.
“What do you say? Should we toss a coin to help you decide?” He narrows his gaze on me.
Nostalgia tugs on my heartstrings. After all, it was a coin toss that led me to join Anderson on our Route 66 adventure in the first place. But I didn’t toss the coin so it would tell me what I should do. I did so because, while that coin was in the air, it helped me realize what I really wanted.
I stare at the penny in his outstretched hand, smiling at the memory of the cocky stranger who tried to impress me with his knowledge of the plot to steal Lincoln’s body.
How I knew my life would never be the same from that moment.
How I knew I was at a crossroads of my life.
Just like I am now.
I lift my eyes to his, a dozen emotions swirling within his depths. “I’m not going to toss that coin, Anderson.”
He briefly closes his eyes, his shoulders falling. “I understand. I—”
“I don’t need to.”
He flings his gaze to mine.
“You’re my true north.” I rest my hand over his heart, the compass tattoo hidden beneath the fabric of his suit. “No matter the obstacles thrown our way, I will always come back to you.”
His entire body goes slack as the tension rolls off him. He covers my hand with his, keeping it firmly on his chest.
“They can try to tear us apart all they want. But even when you try to smash a compass to pieces, do you know what happens?”
“It will still point north,” he answers with a hint of a smile.
“It will still point north. No matter what happens in these next few weeks or months, you can be sure of one thing. That my heart will always bring me back to you.”
His grip on my hand tightens as he presses his mouth to mine, pouring all the emotions he’s experienced today into his kiss. Happiness. Worry. Despair. Desperation. Frustration. And love, which shines through above everything else. I have to believe this once-in-a-lifetime love we’ve found in each other will be enough for us to navigate the rough waters ahead.
When he pulls back, he’s no longer the haunted, tortured man he was mere seconds ago. He’s back to being the cocky, confident man I couldn’t help but fall in love with.
“What do you say we finish what we started earlier?” He waggles his brows, leering at my chest as he lasciviously licks his lips.
“Why, Your Highness…” I bring my mouth back toward his. “That may be the best idea you’ve had all day.”
Before I can utter a single syllable, Anderson jumps to his feet and scoops me into his arms. Laughter falls from my throat as he rushes me through the gardens and into the house, peppering kisses along my neck. My squeals of joy echo through the halls. I doubt anyone on the household staff has ever seen anything like this, considering their stunned expressions as we pass.
They’d better get used to it. Because I’m not going anywhere.
Chapter Ten
Anderson
I lower myself to the edge of the bed, pushing a few strands of Nora’s hair behind her ear, admiring her as she sleeps. I need to wake her up, but hate the idea of disturbing her. Not when these few quiet seconds may be the last she has for the foreseeable future.
Today, life as she knows it will change.
As if it didn’t change when she stepped off the plane yesterday and was bombarded by an angry mob who doesn’t think she’s good enough to marry their prince.
Now, in mere hours, my father will publicly announce his approval of our engagement, as well as our wedding in eight weeks.
Gone is the quiet life she once led. Her privacy…gone. Her independence…gone. Her ability to go to the local café for a coffee…gone.
From today forward, she will no longer be an unknown woman trying to make her way in the world. She’ll become Crown Prince Gabriel of Belmont’s fiancée. The future crown princess and queen consort.
I still question whether I’m worthy enough of everything she’s agreed to sacrifice for me — her home, her career, having her best friends at her side as she marries me. But I’ll make every effort to prove I am.
As if sensing my eyes on her, she stirs, rolling onto her back and meeting my gaze.
“Do you like watching me sleep or something?” she asks, her voice lazy.
“I just like looking at you.” I lower my lips to hers. “Can’t believe I’m the lucky bastard who gets to do that every day for the rest of my life.”
She moans into my kiss, her fingers raking through my hair. What I wouldn’t give to spend all day with Nora in bed. But that’s not our life anymore. It’s a new world for us, and it starts today.
Reluctantly, I pull back.
“You’re up early,” she comments, trailing her fingers down my suit-clad chest. “And already dressed?”
“It’s officially a workday for me. And your first day of work, too.”
She briefly closes her eyes, drawing in a deep breath. “We’re really doing this, aren’t we?”
I blow out a nervous laugh. “Unless you’ve had a change of heart.”
“Nah. I mean, maybe if you didn’t make me come… What was it? Three times last night?”
“Actually, four.”
She scrunches her brows. “Really?”
“I believe so.” I count off on my fingers. “First there was in bed with my tongue.”
“Right.”
“Then when you rode me.”
Her pupils dilate. “That was fucking intense.”
“Bloody right it was.” I chew on my lower lip, desire coiling in my stomach from the mere memory. “Then in the shower with my mouth again.”
“Exactly. And that was the last one. So three.”
I slowly shake my head. “Don’t even try to deny it, love. I felt you go again when I took you from behind right after that.”
“You just said it yourself. It was right after. So that very well could have been merely a continuation of the same orgasm. There must be a rule somewhere about how much time is required between orgasms to classify them as two separate events.”
Barking out a chuckle, I grab her exposed nipple between my thumb and forefinger. “Perhaps, but I’m claiming four. We can always test your theory later. See what kind of lapse in time is required.”
Her eyes flutter closed as her body warms under my touch. “I really like the sound of that.”
“As do I.” I cover her mouth with mine, continuing to tweak her nipple, and she whimpers into me. I deepen our kiss, my tongue swiping against hers for a moment before I pull back, dropping my hold on her and rising to my feet. “But for now, it’s going to have to wait.”
“Grrr…”
“Did you just…growl at me?”
She throws the covers off her body and stands. “Can you blame me? Yesterday afternoon, I was on the brink o
f a mind-blowing orgasm before you got called away. And now you’re getting me all worked up again just to walk away without so much as a quickie before we have to endure a day full of press conferences and media appearances. Does that about sum it up?” She places her hands on her hips in feigned irritation, not caring one bit she’s completely naked.
This is one of the many things I love about her. The way she’s so at ease around me that she has absolutely no problem walking around our apartment in barely any clothes. Or at least our old apartment. I doubt she’ll ever feel comfortable enough to do that here. Not with the risk of anyone stopping by at all hours of the day and night.
“Sounds about right.” I hook an arm around her waist, pulling her to me. “But think how great tonight will be.”
She tilts her head back and skims her lips against mine as she reaches for my crotch. “True, but think how amazing right now could be.” She moves from my lips to my neck, nibbling along my earlobe. “It would be a real shame if I had to put one of my vibrators to use when I have a perfectly good fiancé. I’d hate to have to ask the butler if he has a charging adaptor for Mr. Rolls.”
I pull back, brows furrowed. “Mr. Rolls?”
“Yeah. You know. The Rolls Royce of vibrators.”
Eyes flaming, I yank her harder into me and press my arousal against her. “You little vixen. Do you feel what you do to me? A minute ago, I was completely limp. Now, I can’t leave unless I relieve some of this…pressure.”
“Is that right?”
Her sultry voice sends a thrill down my spine, my hunger for her increasing with every heartbeat.
“You know it is.” I nip at her lower lip, eliciting a moan.
“Well, then…”
She pushes against me, freeing herself from my grasp. Swaying her hips, she walks over to the bed and gets on her hands and knees, facing away from me.
This woman constantly surprises me. When I don’t think she could possibly do anything else to steal my breath and remind me how damn lucky I am to have her, she proves me wrong. And it’s not because she’s more than eager to have a quick romp before breakfast. It’s because she trusts me enough to expose herself like this to me.
