Royal Command (Royal Watch Book 2)

by Stacey Marie Brown

  Lennox.

  Here. Was he here for me? Did it get out to the press?

  Bloody hell, he was sexy.

  His hair perfectly messy, dressed in dark worn jeans, boots, t-shirt, and a grey military style winter coat, he strode with confidence that turned all heads. Not that his looks didn’t have nurses drooling after him as it was. Besides the day we rode together, this was the most casual I had ever seen him. Usually, he was in his impeccable suits and a long camel coat when he worked. He did both very well, but I think I preferred his more rugged attire.

  My heart thumped wildly in my chest, recalling the feel of his skin on my fingertips, the way he felt and looked thrusting into me. Memories of the other night burning my cheeks, I watched him disappear down the hallway.

  Clearly not here for me.

  Without thinking, my legs lurched forward, not wanting to lose him. What was he doing here? Instinct had me following, my already twisted gut braiding into another plait, alarm ringing in my chest.

  My head deep in my hood, I zig-zagged and pushed through the crowd. The top of his head stayed in my line of vision, his height keeping him above almost all others. He continued to turn and move through doors, forcing me to slow down as people thinned out. He shoved through another set of doors, my attention going to a sign.

  ICU. My brow wrinkled. Why is he going to the ICU? The only thing I could think of was he was visiting someone from the bombing.

  Pushing the doors, I stepped into the quiet space, moving slowly forward. A nurse’s station sat a few yards from me, beyond that, in a large oval shape, cubicle rooms filled with medical equipment and beds. Most appeared occupied with patients.

  A low murmur of voices from the nurses, along with the beeps and hisses of machines, filled my ears. My gaze roamed around, searching for him, coming up empty-handed.

  Dammit.

  “You looking for me?” A deep voice came from my left, making me jump with a squeak.

  “Jesus.” My hand smacked my chest, twisting to the voice.

  Lennox leaned against a doorframe, tucked back, his still figure blending in with the dim room, his lids lowered in a glare.

  “You scared the crap out of me.” I sucked in. “How did you even know—”

  “Spencer.” He cut me off, his tone low and cool. “You really think you could follow me without me knowing? I’ve been trained to detect the tiniest detail in my surroundings, to notice a tail by the slightest movement. I’d be a shite guard if you got the better of me.”

  Placing my hands on my hips, I glowered back at him.

  He took a step, his body looming over mine, his heat thumping against my skin. “Especially you.”

  “What does that mean?” I heard the breathy hitch in my tone.

  “Means I know your smell, your aura, the shape of you, the way you move.” He moved in closer, completely encompassing me. “I’m so in tune with you, I would feel you if you were outside and down the street.”

  Huffing through my nose, I swallowed. “Really? You were that aware of everyone in your troop?”

  “No.” His breath grazed my cheek, his gaze rolling over me. “Just you.”

  He brushed by me, strolling past the nurse’s station. I watched them nod and wave to him as if they knew him well. Like he came here all the time.

  “She’s with me.” He flicked his chin back to me but didn’t look at them as he traveled past to a room.

  As I followed him, a knot coiled in my throat as my eyes took in a blonde woman in the room he entered. My focus went to the clipboard hanging outside the room door, her name smashing a tsunami of dread into my body.

  Gracie Easton.

  Oh…god…

  “She married some arsehole who didn’t truly love her, made her so depressed, she tried to kill herself by overdosing on sleeping pills.” Lennox’s voice rushed back to me with a smack.

  He’s married…he’s the arsehole who married her.

  “Don’t act like you have a problem fucking a married man.” William’s words played back in my head. “Your bodyguard is married.”

  Holy shite. My chest clenched, my body shaking, not wanting to accept the truth.

  The pads of my feet went in front of the other, taking me into the room, my mind locked in disbelief.

  Lennox stared down at the petite woman, lovingly brushing a strand of dull blonde hair off her face. She was hooked up to machines, pumping her heart and forcing air into her lungs in perfect compulsory rhythm. Pallid skin thinly covered her bones, her delicate frame drowning in the bed, her wrists the size of a child’s. Behind the instruments, you could still see a sweet beauty to her sleeping face, the epitome of the cute girl next door—sweet, shy, and kind.

  “My mom and dad pretty much stopped living after my sister, Daisy, died. They shut down. They blamed me. Not that I didn’t deserve it. I blamed myself too, but I became nothing more than a ghost in the house they pretended wasn’t there. The only thing saving me from following my sister was Gracie. She saved me from completely diving into the darkness and destruction. It was a full-time job, especially when my mother died two years after Daisy.” He took a jagged breath. “Just another thing my father put on my shoulders.

  “Needing to escape, I joined the military. I threw myself into it, all my anger, focus, guilt. It drove me, and I scaled quickly up the ranks, going into the special forces. Gracie wrote me every week. It didn’t matter if she talked about the farm or the weather. The letters were my lifeline. Even when I didn’t think I wanted to know, she’d always mention my father and how he was doing.” His knuckles brushed over her thin arm, the adoration for her piercing, his expression almost in pain.

  “She was the one to let me know when he died.”

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, my emotions tumbling around, soaking in the bile in my stomach.

  Lennox lifted one shoulder. “What’s sad is I still don’t know how I feel about it. With all the death you see on the front line, you can become accustomed to shutting off your emotions. Death and loss are everyday occurrences. But that’s what made me so good and rise so fast. I had already learned that lesson. I came in empty.”

  I cringed, feeling the pain he probably didn’t let himself feel.

  “When I came back for his funeral, Gracie was at my side the whole time.” He swallowed. “She was the only one who was there for me, who believed in me, and loved me unconditionally. She spoke of a life we could have together, the farm, children. Her love for me would bring me back. It would be enough.” He stumbled over the last bit. “I owed her everything.”

  “You married her.” I wrapped my arms around my middle, the pressure in my chest wanting to crack my ribs.

  His head bowed lower, his eyes shutting briefly before he took a huge gulp of air.

  “I did.” He nodded, turning his head to me. “Did I know, deep down, I wasn’t truly in love with her?” Sorrow filled his eyes. “I wish I could say I didn’t know…but I did. The more she spoke of this beautiful life together, the more I longed for it as well, hoping her love could make it all come true, and I could find peace and happiness somewhere. I talked myself into believing I wasn’t capable of fully loving someone anyway, and what I felt for Gracie would be enough, that making her happy would bring me the serenity I longed for.”

  Tears pricked at my eyes, and I glanced away from him, hating my emotions were on a rollercoaster. I wanted to hear it, but I was scared it would break me into bits.

  “Gracie and I were married on the farm. Her father, Arthur, was already talking about how I would take over my father’s land and merge with his, expanding the dairy business, setting a life for Gracie and me and our family that she already wanted to start.” He ran a hand through his hair, his head shaking slightly. “I quickly realized I made a mistake. The serenity I was searching for never came. I actually got worse, angrier and more unsettled. I didn’t want that life. I didn’t want to be a dairy farmer. I could see my life stretched out before me, with kids an
d a wife, and instead of exciting me, I felt like I was suffocating to death. I would become a shell, getting up and doing what I needed, but far from living. I started to have nightmares again, of the battlefield, of my sister dying. I became short-tempered, miserable, and angry. I destroyed her. So I left. Went back into combat.”

  “What do you mean destroyed?” Alarm strangled my throat.

  Lennox glanced over at me. “I would never touch a woman if that’s what you mean. But hurt comes in different forms. Gracie was diagnosed as bipolar in her teens. She was on medication, and most of the time was the sweet girl I grew up adoring.” He licked his lips. “I didn’t know, but right before we got married, she stopped taking her meds. She wanted to get pregnant so badly she didn’t care about the consequences, not wanting anything wrong with the baby.”

  “When I left…I guess she was pregnant.” He barely said above a whisper. “But she had a miscarriage two months after I was gone.”

  My hand went to my mouth. Bloody hell, what this man had gone through.

  “The dark depression claimed her quickly. Her mother called me all the time to come home. The few times I did, all we did was fight. She refused to take her medication again, and her unhappiness turned on me. She told me to leave the last time. To get out.” His voice hitched with grief, his hand scouring at his eyes. “And because I’m a selfish bastard, I did.” He inhaled, peering up at the ceiling. “She took a bunch of pills. Her mother found her the next day, lying in her own vomit on the bathroom floor.”

  “I ran home, finding my wife in a coma, the doctors saying she was pretty much brain dead.”

  “Holy shite.” I blinked rapidly.

  “For weeks, I lived at her bedside, her family determined she would suddenly wake up, and they will have their little girl back again. Gracie was their only child, a miracle baby.” He used his arm to wipe at his eyes. “How do you tell someone so convinced a miracle will happen that it’s pointless? She’s brain dead. She will never come back, but they refuse to give up, even though every medical person has told them there is no hope. I sold my farm to keep her here with private care.”

  “How long has she been here?”

  “Over two years.”

  “Two years!?” My mouth parted with shock. I couldn’t even imagine the cost of private care. Our country had excellent health care, but I think there were limits on cases like this. As ruthless as it was, she was taking a bed and care from someone else who might need it.

  “I knew Gracie. She would not want this. I know she wants them to let her go.” He brushed his fingers over her face again. “I talk to her a lot. Sometimes I swear she is still helping me. I could hear her telling me to live again—not to waste my life. To live for my sister, my parents…and her. It was here when I decided to go into the Royal Air Force, where I met Theo.”

  I stared down at the tile floor, Theo’s name reminding me of my own betrayal.

  “Remember when he came to see you when I first met you?” Lennox faced me. “His arm was hurt?”

  “Yeah?”

  “There was an accident. I saved Theo’s life.”

  “What?” My eyes burst into wide circles.

  “A training op went wrong, and his ejection chair got caught.” He waggled his head with the memory. “Let’s just say it was a close call, but I got him loose in time. From there on out, Theo had my back for anything. He’s been helping me pay to keep Gracie here, got me a job, been a good mate. We’ve been through a lot together. I owe him far more than he ever owed me.”

  My teeth dug into my lip, sensing where he was going. No matter how much I knew it couldn’t work, I still didn’t want to hear it. It would make it real. A truth I couldn’t push away.

  “But I’m still the selfish arsehole I always was.”

  My head jerked up to him, his gaze roaming over me.

  “I tried to fight you. Deny it with everything I had. Damn. I actually convinced myself I really did hate you.”

  “Why?”

  “I will be blunt. I’ve fucked a lot of women, been in several relationships, even married. But you opened a door…shit…I can’t explain it. I never had this kind of reaction to someone before. It was visceral. Raw. Watching Theo kiss you? I had to fight the reflex to shove him off, to claim you myself.”

  Every nerve through my body tingled, heating my skin.

  “I felt alive. Like for the first time, I was present. I hated you for it. Like you were sent to be my punishment for all the horrid things I’d done. I kept telling myself the more I was around you, the more I’d realize you were nothing special.”

  I breathed in at his words.

  “But the opposite happened. The more I got to know you, the more I wanted to be around. You were my penance. I hate myself, but I can’t seem to stop when it comes to you.”

  “Me either,” I said softly.

  His lids shut tightly, his chest puffing with a breath. “You shouldn’t say that to me.” His eyes opened, blazing with fire. “Not as the Prince’s fiancée.”

  “I’m not.”

  “What?” His gaze darted to the enormous ring on my hand.

  “I told Theo this morning that I can’t marry him.” I flipped the band, twisting the diamond into my palm. “He asked me to hold off for a bit before we tell anyone.”

  “Of course he did.”

  “I mean, they just reported we are engaged in the papers this morning. It would be too soon to break it off.”

  “So, you planning to tell them on your honeymoon?” His lids narrowed, his words lashing out.

  “Excuse me?”

  “There will be no right time. Theo will push it until you are walking down the aisle.”

  “You have no right to judge him or me.” My defenses sprang up my spine. “At least I was honest! What about you? You are married!”

  “Honest?” He spurted a dry laugh. “Did you tell him you fucked my brains out in the bathroom right before he asked you to be his wife?”

  “Fuck you,” I spat.

  “You did that. And you were begging for more.”

  True.

  “What was I supposed to do in front of everyone?” My hands flung out. “At the King’s birthday gala, no less. Tell the Prince ‘no’ in front of the media? Friends, family, the King and Queen of France?”

  “You never actually said yes, did you?”

  I jerked back in shock. He noticed—the only one who did.

  “But you certainly didn’t fight it, either.”

  “At least I’m not going to marry someone I don’t love because I’m too scared to face myself.”

  Lennox drew in, rage crackling down him like a fuse.

  “How could you do this? I feel like such a fool.”

  “Spence—” He reached for me.

  “No!” I shoved at him, blistering with rage. “You lied to me.”

  “I never lied. I told you it was complicated. That I could never be more.”

  I sucked in; the sting hit like a trolley.

  “You didn’t lie?” I exclaimed, hitting him again. “Not telling me you are married is just as bad!” Hurt bled through my tone. “And I thought…you and I…I thought…”

  “You thought what?”

  “I’m sorry.” A nurse’s voice swung me around to the door, halting words in my throat. “You two will have to lower your voices or take it outside.” Her gaze went from Lennox to me, her eyes widening. “Oh! My-my lady. I’m so sorry.” Her cheeks blushed with the knowledge she had heard every word and now was aware of who I was.

  Bloody hell.

  “Of course. I sincerely apologize.” My voice clotted with upper-crust etiquette, my training responding to the public becoming a knee-jerk reaction as I tucked in my emotions. My pain. “We’ll—”

  “We’ll take this outside.” Lennox clasped my arm, not uttering a word as he tugged me out of the room. Eyes burned into us from the nurse’s station, hushed whispers clamoring at the tiniest gossip we gave them.

&
nbsp; “Let me go.” I hissed as we broke through the doors, exiting the ICU into a bright, mostly empty corridor.

  “No.” His head swiveled around like he was searching for something.

  “No?” I gaped.

  “Since I no longer work for you and you aren’t going to be a monarch who can cut off my head, I no longer take orders from you.” He tugged me toward a door, yanking it open.

  “Like you ever did,” I snarled back as he shoved me into the dark storage closet, my eyes taking in the shelves of supplies right before he slammed the door, the gaps in the door allowing a hint of light into the space. “What the hell are you doing? Think we’ve had our fill of being stuck in cupboards together. Let me out of here.”

  “Not before you tell me what you were going to say.”

  “What does it matter? You’re married!” I snarled, pushing back into him. I hated the way his closeness and heat were driving lust through me, shattering my willpower. “Why don’t you go back to her. Leave me alone!”

  “I can’t.” He restrained me against a shelf. I turned my head, but he caught my chin, yanking it back to him. “My life is complicated. I understand if you want to walk away. Hate me. But the truth is, my wife is dead. She died two years ago. There is no one left inside her, and I thought I was no better…until I met you.”

  My breath hitched, and my head tipped back to look at him.

  “I can’t walk away from you.” He let go of my jaw. “But if you want to, I get it.” He motioned to the door. “Go. I won’t stop you.”

  Not even a muscle twitched, my gaze locked on him.

  “I’m warning you,” he rumbled. “Go now.”

  I knew I probably should. Both our complicated situations made us such a disastrous tragedy, but I couldn’t—no matter if it was right or wrong or what outcome may be in store for us.

  “Spencer.”

  “I can’t,” I whispered, our gazes locking. Heavy. Wanting.

  A deep growl came from his chest. His hand clutched the back of my neck, his physique smashing into mine, pinning me up against the wall.