Royal Escape: The Complete Series

Home > Other > Royal Escape: The Complete Series > Page 21
Royal Escape: The Complete Series Page 21

by Peak, Renna


  I know this is even more stupid now than it was before, but I don’t care. I reach up and slide my arms around his neck, pulling his face down to mine.

  Nicholas

  Feeling her lips against mine makes me instantly hard, but I pull away after only a moment.

  Clara gives me a feeble smile. “It’s because I look like hell, right?”

  “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.” I lift my hands to her face, my thumbs brushing away the tears that have begun to stream down her cheeks.

  “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

  “I’m saying it because it’s true.” I hold her face in my hands, looking down into her eyes.

  “I’m kind of throwing myself at you, Nick.” She gives me a small smile. “You really are bad at this, you know.”

  “So I’ve heard.” Part of me wants to throw her on the ground, join with her again and again until we both forget what it was that brought us here. But another part—the respectable part, I suppose—knows we might both regret it. And the last thing I would want is for Clara to think I’m taking advantage of her in her delicate state.

  She grabs hold of one of my wrists, turning her head to kiss my palm. “You really are seriously terrible at this.”

  “Yes.” I caress her cheek with my free hand, trailing my fingers down the length of her neck to her shoulder. “You’ve said.”

  “I want you.” She looks up into my eyes, almost pleading with me. “I’m telling you I want you, Nick.”

  I tear my gaze from hers, staring down at where my hand lies at her shoulder.

  “You want me, too, so…” She kisses my wrist. “Where do you want to have me? Here?” She points at a hay bale next to the wall.

  “I…” I take in a deep breath and pull away from her, dropping my hands to my sides. “Clara—”

  “You’re rejecting me.” She nods a few times as tears fill her eyes once more. “I—”

  “I’m doing nothing of the sort.” I’m just not sure how to make her understand that although we may have spent the afternoon together in this way, everything that has transpired since makes this moment feels somehow different. Wrong.

  “Well, if you want to get technical, you’re totally rejecting me. I’m offering to let you fuck me—”

  I interrupt with a noise that almost sounds like a growl. “I have no intention of taking advantage of you, Clara—”

  “It’s not taking advantage if I’m giving myself to you—”

  I continue as though she hasn’t said a word. “And while fucking you sounds quite pleasant, I’d much prefer something else. And I don’t think either of us is in the proper frame of mind to have that. So, no. I’m not rejecting you. I’m just rejecting…this.”

  Her bottom lip begins to quiver. I’ve no question that Clara is one of the strongest women I’ve ever known. I’ve seen her work her way through a multitude of challenges since she came into my life a month ago.

  I’m sure she thinks crying is some sort of display of weakness—and I’ll admit that seeing a woman fall apart in front of me has never been my favorite thing—but in this case, I can’t help but feel for her. There’s a pang in my chest, and my stomach turns over on itself.

  I pull her into my arms right before she breaks, and I hold her up, embracing her as she sobs against my chest for what feels like an eternity.

  She has every reason to cry, I think. She found out tonight that I’ve been misrepresenting myself to her. That her world isn’t what she thought it was.

  I can’t help but feel to blame for her emotional distress, and the least I can do is hold her.

  After her tears have been shed, she quiets, and I’m acutely aware of where each of her fingers are against my back. Where each of her breaths blow across the skin of my chest. The smell of her hair against my nose.

  I kiss the top of her head, holding her tightly against me. It would be so easy to do as she’d asked, to lie her down on top of one of the hay bales and fuck her until she forgets about why she’s upset. And it takes every bit of my strength to keep my cock from betraying my thoughts about what I’d like to do.

  “I guess I wasn’t cried out after all. But thank you,” she whispers against me.

  “You have nothing to thank me for, Clara.” I kiss the top of her head again. “I, however, have much to thank you for—”

  “No, I mean it.” She pulls away, looking up into my eyes. Her face is red, her eyes swollen and bloodshot. “And I’m sorry I keep telling you you’re bad at this. You’re not bad at this. I’m bad at this.”

  I have no idea what she’s talking about, but I give her a nod anyway.

  She gives me a weak smile. “Would you…? I mean, would it be weird…?” She shakes her head. “Never mind.”

  I stare down at her, waiting for her to finish her thoughts, but she doesn’t. “Would what be weird?”

  “Nothing. It’s stupid.”

  I cock my head. “I doubt that very much. I’ve known you for over a month, and I’ve never found any of your thoughts particularly stupid.”

  “Really?” She grins. “Not even when I thought I could ride Pom without knowing what the hell I was doing? Not even when I almost killed myself when she tried to throw me that first week?”

  “All right, that may have been a little…naive. But not stupid.” I look into her eyes—how can I tell her that I would do anything for her? That there isn’t a single request she could make of me in this moment that I wouldn’t move the world to give her?

  “I was just going to ask…” She lets out a long breath. “Promise you won’t think this is dumb? I mean, it is dumb. I just don’t want you to tell me how dumb it is, I guess.”

  “Clara—”

  “Could you…come to bed with me?”

  My brow furrows. “Clara, I—”

  “I told you this is stupid.” She gives me a weak grin. “I don’t mean to have sex. I just…I really need to be held. I know that’s a dumb, girly, idiotic thing, but—”

  “I’d be happy to,” I say a little too quickly.

  “I mean, I know I just basically threw myself at you. Told you to fuck me and everything—”

  “Clara…” I reach out to cup her face in my hands again before I place a chaste kiss on her lips. “Nothing would please me more.”

  Clara

  I sleep better than I ever thought I could after such an emotional night. In Nick’s arms, I find a temporary escape, the peace and comfort I couldn’t find on my own. I don’t let myself think about how long my life here will last. Or about the wedding that I’m not having. For the time being, it’s enough just to think about how warm he is, and how steady his arms feel around me, and how firm and strong his chest feels beneath my cheek.

  When I wake, the sun is already streaming in through the window. I smile and stretch. It was so nice to fall asleep curled up against Nick. But when I reach for him, I realize the rest of the bed is empty. He’s gone.

  I climb out of bed and dress quickly. I shouldn’t be surprised he disappeared before I woke. After all, I practically had to beg him to be with me last night. My cheeks burn as I remember everything that happened in the barn. I never meant for him to see me cry. And I definitely never meant to beg him to have sex with me. I made a complete fool of myself in front of him.

  And princes have better things to do than comfort confused women. God, if he had any respect left for me after everything else I’ve put him through, it’s probably gone now.

  I throw my hair up in a ponytail and move quietly out into the hall. The door to Nick’s room is still closed, and I suspect Sophia and Pax will be sleeping for a little while longer. They probably aren’t used to getting up as early as we do here on the ranch.

  I sneak down the stairs, thinking to head out to the stable and start on my work for the day. When I pass the kitchen, though, I find Nick there, doing something over the stove. The smell of bacon hits my nose.

  He seems to sense me i
n the doorway. He glances over his shoulder, and his face breaks into a smile. A smile! I’m so stunned that I just stand there staring like an idiot.

  “I thought I’d attempt to make breakfast for all of us,” he says. “Hopefully I can manage bacon and eggs. It seems simple enough.”

  “You’ve never made bacon or eggs before?” I ask.

  “It’s hardly a skill I’ve needed thus far in my life.” He prods at one sizzling piece of bacon with a fork. “But I’m managing.” He glances at me again, looking quite pleased with himself.

  All my embarrassment about last night starts to dissipate. “I thought… When I woke up and you weren’t there, I wondered if…”

  He puts down the fork and turns to me, a furrow appearing on his forehead. “You were still sleeping when I woke. I didn’t want to disturb you.” His eyes flick up to the ceiling. “And I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about my sister and her husband seeing me emerge from your room. I thought it best to slip out before anyone else noticed.”

  My face gets warm again, but not from embarrassment this time. “You were looking out for me?”

  “I didn’t want to needlessly compromise your reputation.”

  I laugh. “I’m not sure how much of a reputation I had to start with. But…thank you, Nick. You’re really sweet.”

  “Sweet? I don’t think anyone’s ever called him that before in his life,” comes Pax’s voice from behind us. He’s just inside the doorway, wearing nothing but his pajama bottoms. He really does have a lot of tattoos. There’s also a large round scar on his chest—I wonder where he got that.

  “Aw, Nick can be sweet when he wants to be,” says Sophia, coming into the kitchen behind her husband. She’s in a cute silky pajama set. “Can’t you, Nick?”

  Nick rolls his eyes. “I’m making us breakfast.”

  “See?” Sophia says. “That’s a sweet thing to do.” She bounces over to the table and sits down, gesturing for Pax to come sit beside her. “I hope you slept okay on the couch, Nick.”

  “I slept just fine.”

  “I bet you did,” Pax says, grinning and giving me a knowing look.

  So much for my reputation.

  Nick, thankfully, doesn’t notice. Or at least decides it’s better just to ignore his brother-in-law. After frowning at the pan of bacon, he finally gives a little nod as if deciding he’s pleased. Then he uses his fork to dish the bacon onto a waiting plate. There’s already a plate of scrambled eggs nearby, a cloth napkin draped over them to keep in the heat.

  I grab some plates and silverware from the cabinet and bring them over to the table. Nick carries over the food and then grabs the steaming pot of coffee.

  At this time today, I was supposed to be having a pre-wedding brunch with my mom and a few close friends. But as I look around the table, I’m pleased with what I see instead. And even though I have no idea how long my life here will last, there’s a sort of peace in acknowledging that it’s here now.

  Nick catches me smiling at him as he serves me bacon and eggs.

  “What?” he asks. “Is something funny?”

  “Just you,” I say with a smile. “Thank you for breakfast. It looks great.”

  “Maybe Nick isn’t useless in the kitchen after all,” Pax says with a grin, scooping up a big forkful of eggs. The minute he shoves it in his mouth, though, his amusement vanishes. Instead, his eyes bulge and he looks as if he’s trying not to gag.

  Beside him, Sophia begins coughing. I frown down at the eggs on my fork, but I’m too curious not to give them a taste. I nibble a tiny bit off the end of my fork.

  And nearly spit them right back out.

  “These eggs are…interesting,” Sophia manages between her coughs. “Very…different.”

  Pax looks like he might be sick. Grabbing his cup of coffee, he chugs half of it in a single gulp.

  Nick’s scowling at his sister and her husband as if he thinks they’re playing some sort of joke on him. When he looks at me, though, he seems to realize that’s not the case.

  “What is it?” he asks.

  I gently put my hand on his arm. “What did you put in the eggs?”

  “Nothing special,” he says, still frowning. “A splash of milk. A little garlic, a generous amount of salt—”

  “Are you sure that was salt?” Sophia asks.

  “Why?” he demands.

  “Try them yourself,” Pax replies, still looking slightly green.

  Nick jabs his fork into his eggs and scoops up a big heap. Then he defiantly shoves the whole thing into his mouth in one go.

  And his eyes nearly bug out of his head.

  Nick, for all his dignity, ignores all proper etiquette now. He spits all the eggs back out on his plate.

  “Why are they sweet?” he demands.

  I try not to laugh, but I can’t help myself. “I think you mixed up the sugar and the salt.”

  Sophia is laughing, too. And then Pax. Nick sits there with his expression growing darker and darker, scowling at his eggs as if they’re to blame for his mistake.

  After a moment, though, something shifts. He looks up at all of us laughing, and then a small smile creeps across his lips.

  “This is why I usually let other people do the cooking,” he says. And then, miraculously, he laughs.

  Yes, I think, my chest swelling with feelings I’m too afraid to name. This is exactly where I’m supposed to be.

  Nicholas

  It feels good to laugh. It’s been far too long since I’ve felt so…happy. I’m almost hesitant to admit it to myself.

  We somehow manage to make it through breakfast. Though the eggs I’ve prepared are nothing less than disgusting, the bacon is at least decent, if not a bit too crisp for my liking.

  A man has to start somewhere, I think as I look over at Clara. And here seems as good a place as any.

  Clara goes off to feed the horses and Pax goes upstairs to shower, leaving Sophia alone with me in the kitchen.

  She helps me to clear the table. “She seems like a nice girl, Nick.”

  “Mm.” I really don’t want to have this conversation with my sister. Instead, I begin washing the dishes.

  She joins me at the sink. “You can talk about it, you know.”

  “I’ve nothing to say.”

  “I doubt that very much.” Sophia frowns at me. “You can’t really hope to have any manner of relationship with Clara if you’re still harboring—”

  “I harbor nothing.” I’m sure by the way I’m slamming the dishes around in the sink, my sister can see through my words.

  “Whatever you say, Nick.” She takes each dish after I wash it, rinsing it under the faucet before placing it in the dish rack.

  We’re silent for a few minutes before she speaks again. “Do you remember when Mother used to punish us by making us go to the kitchens to wash dishes?” She turns to me with a smile. “You were always very particular about how each dish was cleaned.”

  I turn to her, lifting a brow. “As I recall, we were nearly always being disciplined for something you had done.”

  She shrugs. “Actually, it was usually me and Leopold. He was just too old to punish by making him wash the dishes.” She giggles. “But we did have some fun, didn’t we? Do you remember when we put frogs in Stephan’s bath?”

  It’s hard to hide my smile. My father’s valet has always been a thorn in the side of every member of our household. “I do, but I don’t believe I was party to that particular plan.”

  “No, but you caught the frogs for us. As I recall, we had to wash the dishes after every meal for a week. But it was worth it, wasn’t it? We could hear Stephan’s shrill screams from the other side of the palace.”

  I can’t help but chuckle. We did have fun at the palace growing up. Part of me had always thought my own children would grow up there, sharing similar experiences.

  But I have no place in Montovia now.

  That thought sobers me, and I frown, concentrating again on the pan in my hands.
<
br />   “It isn’t as bad as you think, Nick. It really isn’t.”

  “I have no idea what you’re on about.” I don’t even look at my sister. I finish washing the grease from the pan and hand it to her to rinse before I empty my side of the sink. I wipe off my hands on a towel before I walk back over to the table and take a seat facing the window.

  Perhaps Clara is nearly done with the horses. It might be nice to go for a ride today, if for no other reason than to take my mind off other, less palatable topics.

  Sophia joins me a few moments later, taking the seat directly across from me, blocking my view.

  I finally meet her gaze. “How long do you mean to stay?”

  “Is there a time limit?” She tilts her head. “I rather like it here. Pax’s tour is finally over and he doesn’t start recording again for a few months. We’d been meaning to travel…”

  “You really mean to stay for a few months?” My tone is a bit more acidic than I meant, but my sister is the one who brought up the unsavory topics in the first place.

  “Come home, Nick. You were barely there—”

  “I was there long enough. More than long enough.” My last trip home was quite a lot longer than I’d planned, but our father’s health has been poor. It would have been rude of me to leave when we were uncertain of how he’d fare.

  “You were barely there a few weeks.” She shakes her head. “And it wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  I answer with what sounds almost like a growl. I have no intention of having this conversation with Sophia—not now and not ever. Besides, Clara could walk in at any moment, and what would she think? It was bad enough that she found out I was a prince at all. She certainly doesn’t need to know anything about my past relationships.

  “That waitress yesterday said she can board horses, right? And you’ve only the two. I’m sure she could see to them for a bit. Just long enough for you to—”

  “To what?” My gaze snaps to my sister’s. “Just long enough to what Sophia? What is it you think I must do when I’m home?”

 

‹ Prev