Reluctantly Royal

by Nichole Chase

  While Marty was distracted I quickly wiped at my cheeks and dragged the tips of my fingers under my eyes to make sure I didn’t have any runaway mascara.

  “Are you ready?” I held my hand out to Marty while Max picked up the tiny backpack by the door.

  “Does this mean we’re going to fly on a private jet?” Marty looked at me with a little more of his usual excitement.

  “I think so.” I squeezed his fingers and tried to not think of why we were being escorted “home” by Max.

  “Awesome!” He bounced a little as we walked down the hallway. “Do you think I can drive it?”

  “Um, that would be a no.” I laughed, but it was a show.

  People had lined the hallways to watch us leave. Some of them had sad expressions as they watched Marty and me, but the rest were out in full force to get a glimpse of the royal guest. Not that I blamed them. Max filled out his suit perfectly.

  “Have a safe flight.” The woman from the front desk nodded in my direction before turning around and making shooing motions at the people in the hallway.

  “Thanks.” I blew out a breath. At least the private jet would be a good distraction for Marty. I was already mentally preparing myself to deal with my father. If I was lucky he’d be passed out in his office and leave everything to me. Coaching Marty through the funeral on top of making all the plans would be difficult enough. Dealing with my father at the same time would be almost impossible.

  TWO

  BAD.

  My feet were planted just like they had been in the auditorium while listening to Meredith sing. It felt like my shoes had been glued to the floor. My legs refused to move.

  Wrong. My brain refused to tell my legs to move.

  This was a terrible idea.

  I should leave. Why were my feet not moving?

  “Marty, go up to your room please.” Meredith’s foot tapped against the stone entryway.

  The little boy shot a look at the people in the sitting room, another at his mother, and beelined for the stairs. I didn’t blame him. The heat coming off the top of his mother’s head was enough to make me want to turn tail and run. But there was also something tempting in that white-hot anger. Which was an even better reason to flee. Even in her grief, Meredith Thysmer was enticing.

  “What is wrong with you?” Meredith was glaring at the blurry-eyed man sitting on the couch. The reporter perched across from him looked torn between excitement and fear. The room smelled strongly of liquor and stale cigarette smoke.

  “I’m telling my father’s life story.” The man who must be Meredith’s father sat up a little straighter and pulled at his rumpled suit jacket. I thought his name was Arthur, but I could be wrong.

  “He’s not even in the ground!” Meredith shook her head. “And you’re selling interviews?”

  “What does that have to do with anything?” Arthur leaned forward. “And who is that?”

  He pointed at me with disdain and I felt my eyebrows rise. It wasn’t often that I wasn’t recognized in my own country. The journalist looked at me with wide eyes and began to collect his stuff.

  “That. Is. The. Prince.” Meredith bit out the words. “His Royal Highness, Prince Maxwell of Lilaria. He was kind enough to come tell me that my grandfather died before the media did. Then he brought us home.” The frustration and hurt in her voice was unmistakable. While her father was trying to make a quick buck, she had just found out a loved one had passed away.

  “I’m sorry for your loss, sir.” I bowed my head.

  He snorted, and his red eyes traveled over me in disdain, but he didn’t respond otherwise. His blurry attention went straight back to his fireball of a daughter. That was self-preservation at its best.

  “I was here dealing with everything that happened.” He picked up a snifter from the table and twirled the contents before dumping the amber liquid down his throat.

  “You left us to find out—” She stopped abruptly and looked at the journalist. “I’m sorry, but now is not a good time. Could we reschedule? I’m sure you can understand that this is a difficult time for all of us.” She paused and I could see her temper flare again. “Being that my grandfather just passed away, none of us are in the right state of mind to be giving interviews. And I’m sure that anything you print would say the same thing.”

  Damn. She had just put that journalist in his place better than my sister-in-law’s sidekick Chadwick. That man had a way of making people feel small. It was a gift that apparently Meredith shared.

  Another reason I should be making a hasty retreat and leaving her to deal with her family drama.

  “Of course, Lady Meredith.” The man bowed his head as he stood and almost tripped on his own feet. “I’ll be in touch, Duke Thysmer.”

  I could hear Meredith grind her teeth from where I stood. Apparently being reminded that her father was now the duke of the estate was the last thing she needed.

  “You can’t excuse my guests, Meredith.” Her father stood up, much steadier than he should have been considering the smell of alcohol coming from his breath. “You heard the man. I’m the duke now.”

  “The only thing you’re fit to be duke of is the wet bar,” Meredith scoffed at him.

  “I think that’s my cue to leave.” I took a step backward. It wasn’t that I hadn’t seen my share of family drama, but it was another thing to deal with someone else’s.

  “Oh God. I’m sorry, Max.” Meredith shook her head and composed her face, but I could see the embarrassment underneath her calm mask. “Thank you for everything.”

  “I was happy to help.” I bowed my head. That might be an exaggeration. I was glad that I could keep her from learning about her grandfather’s passing in a horrible way, but I hadn’t been happy to do it. “If you need anything else, please let me know.”

  She chewed on her lip for a minute, and I had to fight my fascination with the way it plumped around her teeth. “I had an e-mail from the palace about funeral arrangements. We should be fine.” Straightening her shoulders, she shot me a more assured smile. “Thank you, again. Martin loved riding in the jet.”

  “I’m glad I could brighten his day a little.” And that was the truth. Seeing his eyes clouded with pain had brought back a lot of memories. It was nice to be able to give him something else to focus on for a little while. Hopefully Meredith’s father wouldn’t cause too much trouble for what was left of their little family.

  “He got to sit in the pilot seat. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to top that.” She smiled up at me, and her smile was so radiant that for just a moment I felt my breath catch in my throat.

  “It was the least I could do.” I bowed my head to her and then to her father before turning and leaving. My steps echoed in the hallway, but thankfully there was no more shouting from the sitting room.

  “Psst.”

  I paused at the door, my fingers gripping the handle, and looked up at the small balcony near the stairs.

  “What are you doing?” I cocked my head to the side as I regarded the little boy.

  “Are they still fighting?” He looked at me from between the railing of the staircase with narrowed eyes.

  “I don’t hear them.” I shook my head.

  “That just means they’re being quieter.” He sighed and slumped down on his butt. “They’re probably still arguing.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be in your room?” I let my hand fall from the door and I turned to give Marty my full attention. If his mother was still arguing with his grandfather, I was sure she wouldn’t want him to know.

  “It’s not fair.”

  “What’s not fair?” I moved so that I could see his little face better, and the tear stains on his cheeks made me wince.

  “I don’t want to be alone up here.” He wrapped his arms around his stomach and bowed his head.

  I teetered on the bottom step. This was one of those moments when a normal adult would have something reassuring to say, some soft words that would make this little boy f
eel better. But I was drawing a blank, and, worse, Marty had started to sniffle.

  “Hey.” Giving up on my escape plan I took the stairs two at a time and sat down next to the little boy. Okay. I was here, now what? “Hey. Um, I’m sure your mum will be up here to see you soon.”

  He just shrugged.

  That was no good. I needed him to calm down, and to do that I needed him to tell me what was really bothering him—though I was fairly certain I knew. How to get a little boy to open up to a stranger? I seemed to remember my sister, Cathy, going on and on about using open-ended questions for her school program. Something about asking questions that couldn’t be answered with a yes or no.

  “Where is your room?”

  “There.” He pointed at a door that was cracked open.

  “Um, do you have any video games?” Damn it. That was not an open-ended question.

  “Yeah.” He shrugged like that was the stupidest question in the world.

  “What kind of games do you like?”

  “All kinds.” He peeked up at me through damp eyelashes.

  “Racing ones?” I was forming a plan. At least I think that was what was happening.

  “Yeah, those are cool. I’m really good at Race Indy Two Thousand.” He wiped his nose on the back of his arm. “You wanna play?”

  “You wanna lose?” I bumped him with my shoulder.

  “You wish.” He stood up, lightning-quick, and ran toward his room. “C’mon.”

  I shook my head as I followed him into his room. The little guy chucked me a controller and took a seat on his bed. I pulled the desk chair out and turned it backward to sit in before looking at the controller in my hands.

  “This is going to be a bloodbath.” The little boy chuckled.

  I loosened my tie. “We’ll see about that.”

  Marty didn’t hesitate to start. We picked our cars and it was go time. The little pooper was good, but so was I. If there was one thing I had never outgrown, it was video games.

  “Hey!” Marty cried in outrage. “How’d you know about that?”

  I used the hidden power strip to zip around his avatar. “You thought just because I’m old I didn’t know about the speed strips?”

  “Uh, yeah.” He shrugged while I laughed.

  “Get used to it, little man. I’m going to leave you eating my dust.”

  I had no idea how much time passed while I played with Marty. After I lost to him twice, he talked me into playing another game. It wasn’t until someone cleared their throat at the bedroom door that I realized we were being rowdy.

  “Max?” Meredith leaned against the door frame, her red hair half obscuring her face as she watched us with an amused expression. She might have been smiling, but I could see the red that rimmed her gorgeous eyes. “I thought you left.”

  She crossed her arms, and I had to pull my attention away from the way it highlighted her breasts. Sure, I liked breasts as much as the next guy, but the woman was grieving, for Christ’s sake.

  “I was challenged.” I flicked my eyes back to the screen, more in an attempt to get them away from her chest than to be involved in the game. “A man can’t turn down a challenge.”

  “He’s losing!” Marty fell over on his bed with his tongue sticking out of his mouth as he furiously worked his controller.

  “I’m losing?” I used my character to shoot a gust of frozen wind in his avatar’s direction. “Is that what you call losing?”

  Marty groaned loudly. “Quit doing that!”

  I laughed, but let him get the upper hand. No reason to beat him into the ground the day he lost his great-grandfather. Marty had needed a little distraction, and surprisingly, I had enjoyed providing it. Children weren’t really my forte, but Marty made it simple. He wasn’t needy or hard to understand. He also spoke a language I understood—that of the gamer.

  “Well, we’re about to have dinner if you’d like to stay.”

  I looked away from the game and heard the explosion as my car ran off the road. Her eyes were cautious, but not warning me to say no. For a moment I considered it, considered spending a little more time with Meredith and Marty, and I was man enough to admit it made me nervous.

  “No, thank you. I have some things I have to finish tonight.” I reached over and ruffled Marty’s hair when he groaned. I was itching to get back to a drawing I had started on the plane ride.

  “C’mon. They won’t fight if you stay.”

  “Marty!” Red colored Meredith’s cheeks.

  “What’s a family dinner without some bickering?” I stood up and set the controller down. “I really do need to leave though.” I glanced at my watch and winced. I’d missed an important phone call that I’d have to make up.

  “Maybe another time.” Meredith walked over and hugged Marty’s head to her stomach. He put his little arms around her waist and smiled at me.

  “Sure.” The word popped out of my mouth before I could think twice. Dinner with them was not on the agenda. Not unless it was a formal occasion with a hundred other people. I wouldn’t have hesitated to take Meredith on a candlelight dinner where I could devour her instead of our food, but not when she had a little boy to think about. Not when she was a mother and brought all of the baggage a mother would bring. Nope. Not going there.

  “That would be awesome!” Marty held his hand out to high-five me and you didn’t leave a little boy hanging, so I returned the gesture.

  “I’ll see you out.” She gently pushed Marty back toward his bathroom. “Wash up and meet me downstairs.”

  “Ugh.” Rolling his eyes, he turned and walked like a zombie.

  “Roll your eyes at me again and you’ll get no dinner,” Meredith snapped.

  “Sorry, Mum.” Marty picked up his pace and disappeared.

  I followed her out of the room and tried to keep my attention away from the way her perfect ass swayed as she descended the stairs.

  “Making sure I actually leave this time?” I forced my eyes to the back of her head and watched as her red hair bounced with each step.

  “Well, it seems like you might need a little supervision.” She smiled at me over her shoulder and my groin twitched. Down, boy.

  “I need a lot of supervision.” There was no mistaking my innuendo.

  “I can imagine.” Even her chuckle was sexy. She turned at the door and her eyes ran over me in appreciation. “I bet you keep the girls on their toes.”

  “Sometimes.” Sometimes on their backs, or their bellies. Even better when they were bent over and holding on to my headboard. Shit, I needed to leave. The thought of Meredith in my bed was making me hard.

  “Hm.” She raised an eyebrow, and if I didn’t know better I would swear she was reading my thoughts.

  “Well, thank you for letting me hang out with your son.”

  “Thank you for distracting him while I dealt with my father.” She held her hand out to shake. Her face turned serious and I could see the tiredness behind her eyes. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

  “Don’t think about it again. Trust me when I say I’ve had my fair share of family drama.” I took her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. It was an archaic gesture, but I couldn’t resist touching my lips to her in some way. “Please let me know if you need anything.”

  “Anything?” Her eyes sparkled, but I could see the sadness shining through.

  “Anything at all.” I squeezed her fingers gently before letting go. “I’m at your service.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” A genuine smile lit her face. “Good night, Your Highness.”

  “Good night, my lady.” I bowed my head before leaving.

  My car was waiting outside and as I climbed into the back, I berated myself. A little flirting was one thing, but this felt dangerous. Good thing I wouldn’t see them again until the funeral.

  THREE

  HOLY HOTNESS, THAT man was trouble. Tall, lean, but with broad shoulders, and a face that made me want to do naughty things. He was the walking p
ersonification of a fallen angel; handsome beyond measure, with the promise of hot, sweaty nights in his eyes. I leaned against the door and blew my hair out of my face. Every fiber of my being was exhausted from grief and anger, but one look from Max had yanked me back to the land of the living. There was something in his eyes that made me nervous but excited.

  I was no stranger to flirting. Hell, I’d had a baby at the age of seventeen. I knew my way around men, which was basically easy; use them for what you want, expect nothing else, and discard them as fast as possible. I had learned that from watching men do the same thing to women. Though they were usually just after sex, and that wasn’t something I was willing to give to anyone again. So I strung them along with the promise of someday and then dropped them like a bad habit as soon as I got what I needed; whether it was a ride to work or a new job. Hell, I’d even flirted down the rent payment on my apartment a couple of years ago.

  Once Grandfather had been granted his title and lands back, I had dropped men altogether. The only good one I knew was now gone.

  Tears gathered in my eyes and I rubbed at them with the heels of my hands. Crying wasn’t going to get this family through everything. I might have to quit school so I could make sure that Dad didn’t ruin our new chance on life. If things hadn’t changed I’d still be working at the same restaurant waiting tables in Southampton. I leaned my head back against the door and closed my eyes. I could still finish a degree, just not in performing arts. Any degree would be better than no degree, and I’d never thought I’d have the chance to even think about going to university.

  “My lady, dinner is ready.” The butler stepped into the hallway and motioned toward the dining room.

  “Thank you.” I stood up from the door and wished that we were having dinner in the kitchen around the island with Granddad instead. He hated eating in the formal dining room. We used to eat around the television in the living room. The formal furniture, place settings, and silverware were all foreign to us.

  “Mom! What are we having for dinner? Nothing gross, right?” Marty bounded down the stairs and I straightened my shoulders and smiled. “I’d really like pizza.”