by Imani King
“And on the beach, in the sauna, and on the golf course!” Abby chuckled.
I felt the flush of heat rising in my cheeks. I had been adventurous before meeting Aidan, but even I had to admit that our hormones had run wild that week. I squeezed my thighs together remembering the feel of his fingers underneath my golf skirt when he brought me to climax on the ninth hole. And the twelfth. And the seventeenth. It was no wonder I had no idea what my score was at the end of that game.
“Today is your day,” I said. “We’re not going to talk about me and Aidan because there is no me and Aidan to talk about. Don’t forget. He was the one who told me that nothing serious could ever happen between him and a commoner after all. I should thank him for being so upfront with me.”
“Man, he got under your skin bad,” Abby said with a shake of her head.
“Ma’am, it’s time.” I was saved from having to refute the claim when the young attendant who had been assigned to keep us on time peeked her head into the room.
“Let’s get this show on the road,” I said with a smile. I gave Abby one more quick hug and took a deep breath before following the girl out into the hallway.
As we stood in the church vestibule waiting for the massive wooden doors in front of us to open, I took a deep breath. The last text message I’d gotten from Aidan had come in just over an hour ago.
I know what I’m planning to have for dessert tonight, and it isn’t wedding cake.
He was so cocky and self-assured it was infuriating. I hadn’t responded to a single text, and that fact didn’t seem to faze him at all. If anything, it seemed to encourage him to get more detailed in ways that made even me blush. Definitely not talk that I would have expected from a prince, not that I had ever met one before to compare his behavior to.
Of course, that was one thing that Aidan had kept trying to tell me during our time together. He might be a prince, but he was a man just like every other hot-blooded man out there. He’d proved it time and time again. What had gotten me, though, was when the subject of his future came up in a casual conversation the very first night we met.
It all came back to the simple math of the first-born son versus second-born son. Kian was second in line to the throne of Sorenia, but he would only be expected to take the throne if Aidan died without producing a male heir. There seemed to be a lot more leniency when it came to what was expected from Kian in that case, which was why it hadn’t been a huge barrier to clear the way when that time came to marry Abby.
Aidan, on the other hand, was next in line to be king. It was kind of awe-inspiring and felt overwhelming to me, even though Aidan shrugged it off as if it was no big deal. Of course, he’d had twenty-seven years to get used to the idea. Like many old conservative European royal families, it was expected that Aidan would marry a nobleman of a certain kind of lineage to bear his future heir. It was another thing that Aidan mentioned casually and off-handedly, but one that had definitely made me sit up and take notice.
He had even used the word commoner and joked that I had probably read in the tabloids about his reputation with various women over the years who could never be marriage material because of where they came from. It had quickly become crystal clear to me that in our little fling in Gibraltar would never be more than just that, a fling. Fun. Sexy. Memorable for a multitude of reasons. But always squarely limited to that small window of time. So, no matter what Abby said, I refused to be swayed to believe that there was any emotional connection between us at all.
I stubbornly repeated that to myself as the doors in front of me opened, and I took in the massive room on the other side populated by a sea of strangers staring at me as if I was some oddity in a museum. Then the music started cueing that it was time for me to move, and I gulped. Thankfully, my feet knew what to do. One foot in front of the other. Simple as that.
Staring resolutely ahead, I plastered a smile on my face and walked slowly down the aisle. Halfway to the front of the church, I saw him. Every thought of keeping the next few days on a friendly, yet cool playing field was laid to waste as the sly smile crept across Aidan’s face.
Damn the man. Dressed in his royalty finery, he looked every inch a king. He was almost a foot taller than my own five feet four inches, and his golden curls were perfectly placed to accent his gray-blue eyes. I knew that when he was annoyed or frustrated, they smoked more gray. When he laughed or was in the throes of pleasure, they were as deep blue as the ocean.
I couldn’t keep my heart from speeding up and said a small prayer of thanks as I reached the front of the church and stepped off to the side without stumbling and twisting my ankle. That would have been quite a sight during such an official affair.
I refused to look at him even as I turned my attention to the back of the church. The music changed, and everyone stood up. Abby was a vision as she serenely swept down the aisle. Her face lit up in a gorgeous smile as she spied her fiancé waiting for her. I snuck a glance at Kian and couldn’t help but smile at his puffed chest and broad grin. He was a man in love, and I felt a rush of happiness for my friend and her future.
Before I could slide my eyes back to Abby, I caught Aidan’s gaze. Everyone in the church was looking at Abby. Everyone except Aidan, whose attention appeared to be solely focused on me. I scowled at him before turning my gaze away but not before I saw his smile grow wider. I would have thought that I’d made it clear that I had no further interest in a tryst with the future kind of Sorenia, but Aidan clearly had different ideas about the matter.
As the ceremony started, I focused on the words as the priest began to speak. It was hard to believe that we were standing there, and Abby was getting married.
Abby and I had met in school. Deciding that I needed to broaden my horizons, I shocked my entire family by applying to a university in Scotland for my master’s program. I arrived not knowing anyone else and had been relieved to discover my roommate was also from the States.
Abby was from a small town in Kansas. She had gotten engaged right after high-school graduation to a guy she had been dating practically since birth. The jaunt across the pond had been meant to be temporary, but she fell in love with Scotland just like I did. Her semester abroad turned into three years and a graduate degree, with her fiancé patiently waiting at home. He’d cut her loose right before our trip to Gibraltar. It was a good thing too; her high school sweetheart wouldn’t have stood a chance next to the dashing young prince with an easy smile and killer abs.
Kian was good-looking, but I thought that Aidan was the true ladykiller. The sixteen months he had on Kian resulted in a kind of cool confidence and overt charm that would easily make a girl’s knees wobbly. I had managed to play hard to get for almost a full day, which Aidan had assured me was some kind of record.
As the ceremony closed, I found myself facing him as he offered me his arm with a cocked eyebrow. My knees were wobbly. It wasn’t fair. We didn’t speak as I put my arm into his, and he guided me down the aisle. I knew all eyes were on the newly married couple behind us, and I was grateful. I felt as if I was sweating a monsoon.
The next thirty minutes was a whirlwind as we were escorted across the wide plaza outside the church and over to the grand hall that was the location of the wedding reception. We were efficiently organized into a receiving line. Luckily, I was placed near the front while Aidan was shuffled next to his parents just on the other side of Kian and Abby. It was the first time I could tell Aidan was less than thrilled, but it gave me the space I needed to get my emotions back in check.
When the last guest finally moved through the line, we were escorted into the grand hall and to the long table that was set up in the front of the room on a platform that allowed it to be seen by every eye in the room. Just as I was getting ready to climb the steps to find my seat, Aidan appeared next to me and took my elbow.
I was tempted to pull away but was aware that everyone was watching the royal family with great interest, which meant they were watching me too. Being the cen
ter of attention was not something I was comfortable with.
“A word?” he asked out of the corner of his mouth even as he smiled and waved to someone passing by.
“We’re supposed to be gathering for dinner,” I said in an equally low tone. I plastered the smile on my face again despite the fact that my jaw ached. I had no idea how people who lived their entire lives in front of cameras did it.
He pulled me around the side of the platform which hid us partially from view. “You’ve been ignoring my text messages.”
“You’ve been texting me?” I asked innocently.
“It’s nice to see you again, Eva.” His tone was suddenly so earnest and sincere that it was shocking.
“As if I’d be anywhere else the day my best friend got married,” I said. I watched the happy couple as they attempted to make their way across the room to the platform. They were being stopped every few feet by well-wishers, and at this rate, dinner wouldn’t be starting for another hour.
“I would have liked to have been able to speak to you before the ceremony. We have a lot to catch up on.”
“We have nothing to catch up on. We said everything we needed to say in Gibraltar,” I replied, refusing to be baited into a pointless conversation.
Aidan’s mother, Queen Constance, suddenly appeared as if out of nowhere. She looked back and forth between the two of us, and I felt as if I had been called in front of the principal, except worse. It was clear where Aidan and Kian had gotten their good looks. Constance might have been going on fifty, but she didn’t look a day older than thirty-five.
Was I supposed to curtsey? I was woefully ignorant on the protocol of interacting with royalty.
“Everything okay here, Aidan?” she asked as her eyes flitted to me again.
“Of course, Mother,” Aidan said smoothly. “I was just ensuring that Miss Wilson had a smooth journey into Sorenia yesterday evening.”
“It’s time to take our seats,” she said nodding toward the table.
“Yes, ma’am. I mean, your majesty,” I said quickly. The queen gave a small nod in my direction and started to climb the platform steps.
“We need to go,” I hissed under my breath as I moved to follow her.
“Don’t forget, no matter what you like or don’t, the first dance is mine.”
His low, seductive reminder burned in my ears.
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More by Imani King:
Aidan
Dirty Tackle
Linebacker’s Second Chance
Saint: The Corbett Billionaire Brothers
Rowan: The Corbett Billionaire Brothers
A Bride for One Season
Scandalous: The Senator’s Secret Bride
Her Hollywood Hitman
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About the Author:
Imani King is a small town girl with a big imagination. She nurtures a passion for yoga and can often be found in the studio when she's not writing.
In her fantasies, she and her billionaire Mr. Right travel the world, exploring different cultures and each other! These daydreams are the inspiration for her sizzling stories, so what are you waiting for? Give one of them a try and let her know what you think.
Find all of my books at www.amazon.com/author/imaniking.
