Risking the Crown

by Violet Paige

I lifted the jacket from its hanger. “I know.” I huffed.

  “Ok. Well if that’s all you need, I think I’ll leave for the night. Enjoy the dinner with your family. I know they are excited to have you home.”

  “Wait? You’re leaving?”

  “Do you need something?” she asked, spinning in front of the door.

  “True, but you’re always here. When I get home. You’re here.” I shoved my hands in my pockets.

  “That was different. I don’t think it’s necessary for me to be here at night when you get in because… well…”

  “You can say it, Kenley. You were here to keep me from getting so fucking hammered I couldn’t see straight.”

  She blinked. “I wouldn’t put it that way, but yes.”

  “You don’t have to tip-toe around it. I was a drunk. A royal drunk.”

  She shifted on her heels. Damn. I caught an eyeful of long, lean legs. I brought my eyes upward, begrudgingly. I wanted to follow the lines of her smooth legs toward her ass.

  “But you aren’t anymore.” She smiled. “Let’s focus on that today.”

  “Was there ever a time you were here at night that you weren’t grabbing a drink from my hand?” I prodded.

  The nights before rehab had never been stored in my memory. It was as if I wasn’t really there. I didn’t have memories of stumbling in, clambering across the bar for more booze. But I knew I did. I had the hangovers to prove it.

  “Sometimes,” she whispered.

  “What I must have put you through, Kenley.” I shook my head.

  “It’s all right, your majesty.”

  “No. It’s not. It never was all right.” I rubbed the side of my jaw. “I’m lucky I didn’t lose you in this mess. I don’t know of any royal managers who would put up with my behavior. I’m truly sorry. You could have transferred a long time ago.”

  “You’re better now. I’d rather focus on that. Spain was good for you.” Her smile was sad.

  “Chess?” I blurted.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Chess. Tonight after my family dinner. Would you like to play?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t really play.”

  “Ok. You choose something else. I need to make healthy habits, according to my sessions with Dr. Garcia. You can help me start something new.”

  “Surely, you’d rather spend time with Prince Liam or Prince Donovan.”

  I sighed. “I guess I could go to the Titan instead. Maybe there’s a gala tonight.”

  “No!” Kenley leapt forward.

  I chuckled. “I was kidding. I’m not about to start boozing and bidding on women. At least not on the first night home.”

  Her eyes were hard. “Not a funny joke.”

  I shrugged. “Humor is the best way to heal, I’ve found. But I’d rather start something new at night with you than rely on my brothers and their bad habits. Look what happened to Damon. He bid who knows how much at that gala and ended up with a wife.”

  “You’re asking for my help? To keep you out of trouble?”

  “Yes. No.” I walked toward her. “Maybe I want to undo those memories you have of me and replace them with something else.”

  I saw the color rise on her cheeks. It was sort of adorable. I cocked my head to the side. Did Kenley always do that?

  “I have a lot of history to re-write, Kenley. I’m sure you’re not the only person in the palace who saw me drunk. There are a lot of people here who need to know I’ve changed. I’m a different man. You can understand that, right?”

  Her eyes closed, and for a second I wished they were open so I could study the flecks of blue. I didn’t remember them being so fascinating before. They sparkled every time she blushed.

  She sighed. “Yes. I can understand.”

  “Good. Then I’ll see you tonight.” I picked up the dinner jacket. “I have to welcome the queen into the family.” I brushed past her. “With my tie,” I mocked.

  The royal guard ushered me onto the elevator as soon as I approached the entrance for my brother’s apartments.

  The doors retracted and I was deposited in the massive foyer.

  “Brother.” Damon rushed over and slapped me on the back. I knew I’d never seen him look happy and relaxed like this before.

  He was usually a man with a deep scowl on his face.

  “You remember Molly.” He gestured next to him.

  “Of course.” I grinned, embracing my new sister-in-law. “How are you, your majesty.”

  She laughed. “Please don’t call me that.” She looked at Damon. “I’m not really used to the royal stuff. I don’t think the title suits me.”

  “Royal stuff.” I laughed. Dinner wasn’t going to be as boring as I thought.

  “Come on.” Damon lead me to the dining room. “Molly planned this whole thing out for you.”

  “I hope that means it’s going to be an American meal. I could go for a cheeseburger.”

  “It is a little bit of everything.”

  I noticed the bar in the dining room was bare. “No bourbon, brother?”

  He shook his head. “No. I don’t need it.”

  I stopped short of my chair. “I’m probably going to have to say it a thousand times, but you can drink around me. You too.” I eyed Molly. “I can handle it. I swear. I won’t be offended.”

  I saw Molly’s hesitation. She bit her lip. Her eyes were on Damon.

  “What? What is it? I’m serious. Drink you two. Champagne. Molly, what do you like? I’ll order something for you.”

  Damon took her hand in his and kissed her knuckles. “We have some news to tell you. But I thought maybe we’d save it for dessert. At least get past the salad.”

  “I’m listening.” I eyed them.

  “I’m pregnant.”

  “Shit. Congratulations.” I walked out from the chair and hugged my brother.

  I kissed Molly on the cheek. “That’s great news. I’m happy for you.”

  Damon put an arm around his wife. “We haven’t told anyone. Molly’s parents know, but that’s it.”

  “And they’ve been sworn to secrecy,” she added. “I don’t think a royal baby is big news to their neighbors in South Carolina, but still, we’d like to wait before we announce it.”

  “So Sutcliffe doesn’t know?” I asked.

  “God no. He still hasn’t recovered from the wedding.”

  “Sorry I missed that.”

  “It’s ok.” Molly smiled. “What you were doing was more important.”

  Damon held the chair for Molly and they took their seats. One of the waiters walked in with the first course. We were quiet for a moment, while they poured water and tea.

  “I wanted to give you a chance to digest the information before we told Sutcliffe, or Mother.” He eyed me.

  “Why?” My fingers twitched. I didn’t know if I had the instinct to drink because there was something to celebrate, or the natural craving to drown the guilt that had surfaced.

  “Naturally, your succession to the thrown has been altered.”

  “Right. That.” It wasn’t the most pressing issue I had. But tonight’s news had changed a lot of things.

  “And once Sutcliffe knows, documents will be drawn up. He is going to want to set up protocol in case something happens to either Molly or me. It’s going to become a damn ordeal.”

  “Always is with him.”

  Molly reached for her water. “We’re hoping to keep the news just in the family as long as we can.”

  “I won’t say anything.”

  “I knew I could count on you.” Damon held up the glass of water.

  It was bullshit toasting with water. But I pushed my glass forward.

  “To the new royal.” I smiled at Molly.

  “Thank you.”

  After dinner I followed Damon to the balcony. He pulled a pair of cigars from his jacket.

  “These are all right, aren’t they?”

  I took one. “Yeah. I can handle a cigar.”

 
I smelled the unique blend. I knew my brother had paid a few hundred for these.

  “Molly can’t stand the smell. I’ll shower after this.”

  “Well, she is pregnant. Isn’t that one of the side effects?”

  He laughed. “I’m learning it is.”

  We leaned against the marble railing. “Can you fucking believe this?” he asked. “I’m going to be someone’s father.”

  I shook my head. “Hard to believe.” I stared at the lights on the shore. We all had great views, but Damon’s was phenomenal.

  The letter was still pressed inside my jacket. I had every chance to tell him, but his news crushed it. The timing was off. I couldn’t bring it up on a night like this.

  He chewed the end of his cigar. “Married. Baby. King. Who the fuck am I?” He turned to me.

  “All those things now.” I hated that I came home to so much change. I had missed my big brother’s wedding.

  “You think it takes the pressure off for you?” he asked.

  “Not being next in line?” I twirled the cigar. “I never thought about it to be honest. I’ve never been heir material.”

  “I want you to be…” he stopped. “If something happens. And I’ll make sure this is covered in whatever damn paperwork or royal decree Sutcliffe comes up with. If anything happens to us…” Damon inhaled. “Will you raise our child?”

  I huffed. “You can’t be serious. I’m the drunk uncle.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re my brother. And Galona is as much yours as it is mine. I need to know someone will help him or her rule. You were dealt a rough hand, brother. And you’ve fought like hell to come out on the other side. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t have complete faith that you’re going to keep fighting. Will you be there? Will you be that person?”

  “Damon, if this is some kind of psychological hook to keep me from drinking again, it doesn’t work like that. You can’t dangle something like your child’s life in front of me and think that will make the difference.” I swallowed. He didn’t know what the thing was that made me crave sobriety more than I craved whiskey.

  “It’s not,” he hissed. “I need to know that if I drop dead like Dad did, that my wife and child will be safe. That you’ll take care of them. That I’m not leaving them alone to defend themselves in front of the court or the country. I need that.”

  We never talked about him. We never talked about his death. But I understood the fear that ran through my brother now. Damon was fearless. What did death matter when there was no one to leave behind? But with a pregnant wife, death had suddenly become the only thing he could think about.

  I knew that feeling.

  Our father had died so unexpectedly, it had left its mark on all of us. We were bound to be scarred in some way for the rest of our lives.

  I clasped my hand on his shoulder. “I will take care of them. I’d be honored.”

  He let out a long breath. “Good.”

  “But really, I’m just going to hand the kid off to Isabel.”

  We laughed. Why was she still in Spain?

  We turned to the shore again. “It’s good to be home.”

  “I told Kenley to start the schedule light. She knows how to ease you back into things, but I didn’t want her to have pressure from the crown.”

  Oh shit. I needed to get back to my apartments. Kenley was waiting. A flash of her legs was the first thing I thought of.

  I tossed the two-hundred dollar cigar in a nearby flower pot. “I’ll tell Molly thank you for dinner on my way out.”

  “You can stay. Catch up.”

  “It’s been a long day. I woke up in rehab and I’m going to bed in the palace. I need to wrap my head around that.”

  Damon walked toward me, putting his arms around me.

  “I don’t want you to ever go back there.”

  I stared at him. “I won’t. I can promise you that.”

  6

  Kenley

  As soon as I heard his footsteps in the foyer I twisted my hands together.

  “How was dinner?” I asked, greeting Dominic next to the giant orchid in the hall.

  “American pasta,” he answered. “Molly’s going to be an interesting addition to the family.” He followed me into the next room. He raised his eyebrows. “What’s this?” He pointed to the table behind me.

  “I couldn’t decide,” I explained. “But if you don’t like them, we can play chess.”

  I had assembled every board game I could find in the palace. It was probably overkill. I couldn’t settle on any of them. Dominic’s coat was slung over his shoulder. I suppressed a sigh. Did he have to come home looking sexier than ever?

  “Should we—” He shook his head. “Never mind. I was going to suggest some drinks.” He huffed. “Old habits die long painful deaths I guess. Maybe even longer in this place.” He looked around.

  I wondered if the apartments were a sanctuary for him, or if the walls were only full of painful memories.

  “I can have something prepared. Anything you want,” I offered. “The chef is happy you’re home. She’d love to make something.”

  “No. I have to learn other ways to fill my time. I can’t eat every time I think about mixing a drink.” He pulled out a chair. “Starting with trivia.” He reached for the first box on the top and slid the rest of the games out of his way.

  His eyes raked over my body. “What are you wearing, Kenley?” He looked irritated.

  “What I always wear to work,” I responded.

  “You can’t play trivia in pearls and high heels. Go in my room and find a T-shirt.”

  I gripped the edge of the chair. “Sir?”

  “And some sweatpants or running shorts. That skirt is tight.”

  I swallowed. “I’m fine. Comfortable in this. It’s part of my royal manager—”

  His hand balled into a fist. “Go change, Kenley.”

  I scooted from behind him and walked to the bedroom. “All right. If it’s that critical to game night.”

  I closed the double doors behind me. I walked to his closet, still in disbelief he had commanded I change clothes. It wasn’t allowed for royals to see their managers out of proper attire. I was breaking protocol, let alone my own rules.

  The closet smelled like him. There was an air of masculinity and cologne. For a second I took a deep breath and gave in to the impulse to think there was another reason I was about to change into the prince’s shirt.

  I unbuttoned the front of my blouse and let the silk slide off my arms. I kicked off my heels and stepped out of the skirt. I hung my clothes on the back of the door with a set of wooden hangers. Dominic’s initials were carved into the top. It was strange to be standing here in only a pair of panties and bra.

  I turned back to Dominic’s T-shirts.

  I knew his favorite ones. My fingers traveled over the stacks of shirts. He loved the Royal Navy one the best. It was worn almost to the point of having holes in the chest. I reached for one up high. One he didn’t usually wear. It seemed slightly less personal if it wasn’t one of the regulars. I couldn’t remember a time he had worn this purple one.

  I pushed up higher on my toes to reach. As I tugged on the sleeve there was a loud thump as a bottle of bourbon fell from the shelf.

  “Shit.” It narrowly missed my head.

  I stooped to pick it up. It was half empty. How many more of these were stashed around the apartment? I thought we had found them all. The sweep hadn’t been a very good one.

  I walked to the bathroom and poured the liquid down the sink and washed the bottle out with warm water. I hid it in the trashcan under tissues. I returned to the closet and started scoping the shelves for more bottles. I checked behind hats. Behind his military medals. Behind rows and rows of royal suits. I crouched over his shoes, checking each one in case there was a bottle stashed inside a loafer.

  “Holy shit.”

  “Oh God,” I eked, spinning around to face Dominic.

  I tried to cover myself, but I was s
pilling out of my bra, and there wasn’t much I could do. I reached for a sleeve from one of his jackets, but it didn’t do much. He had just had a full view of my ass.

  “You’ve been gone half an hour. Thought I’d check on you.” His eyes were locked on my breasts. “I didn’t expect to find you trying on all my clothes.” He smirked.

  I closed my eyes. “I-I wasn’t. I’m sorry.” I dropped the sleeve. If I thought his chivalrous side would kick in, I was wrong. Dominic licked his lips as I bent to pick up the purple T-shirt.

  “I found a whiskey bottle,” I explained. My head popped through the shirt. “I thought I should check the rest of the closet, so you didn’t have to worry about it.”

  He crossed his arms. His eyes had moved to the thin slice of fabric between my legs. I looked around for sweatpants. I hadn’t gotten that far yet when I was distracted by the bourbon bottle.

  “Here.” Dominic reached for a pair in a stack next to him. “You can wear these.”

  “Thank you.” I stood, holding them awkardly.

  “And you didn’t trust me to rid my own closet of alcohol?” he asked.

  My stomach sank. “I didn’t mean to insult you. I know you could. I just wanted to do it for you.”

  He leaned into the doorframe. His broad shoulders appeared even wider in the small space.

  This was almost too much Dominic. I was surrounded by his scent. Everything that was his. And him.

  I had to take long steady breaths.

  “So do you consider yourself an enabler, Kenley?”

  “A what?”

  “It was something Dr. Garcia and I discussed. Are you one of the people in my life who lets me drink?”

  I swallowed. “No. Never.” I shook my head.

  “So if you won’t let me drink, then why won’t you let me get rid of the alcohol? Am I not strong enough to handle it?”

  “Of course you are. You’re incredibly strong.” I didn’t know how to turn this around. How to take the insult away. Erase the offense.

  His biceps bulged against the rolled cuffs of his sleeves. I could see the ink on his forearm. I had always wanted to study his tattoo upclose.

  “Why is your hair still up?” he asked.

  “What?”