by S. L. Scott
“You did everything right. That’s why I loved it so much.” He’s about to speak, but I place a finger on his lips. “Please understand what I mean. I’ve always been treated like a princess. It’s amazing in so many ways, but other than my family, I’ve never felt a strong connection to anyone. I used to sneak read romances and learned about love from books. I wanted that so badly that I tried to find it in the wrong places and in the wrong ways with the wrong guys.”
“That’s a lot of wrongs.”
“Truer words never were spoken. But then I met you. Do you believe in soul mates?”
His hands cover my lower back and slide down over my skin. Slipping me back in place, he causes my breath to stumble from the sexual connection. Focusing becomes harder. “I believe in you and me. As for destiny, I don’t think I believed before, but now I do.”
Our lips come together as our bodies slide even farther under the water. Then he leans his head back on the side of the tub, and asks, “Why’d you choose me?”
“Because you treated me like me and not who everyone else sees. You had a look in your eye like we were always meant to be. Cinderella and Prince Charming.”
A slow roguish grin works its way across his face. “I treated you like Ally.”
“You did.”
“I only want what’s best for you. You. Not your country. Not your parents. You. I want you to be happy. As much as I love having you here, I know you might not stay. I think you assumed this was only for a few days. My truth is that I’m worried I’m going to lose you.”
“I’ll fight for you.”
“They’re never going to let you be with me and still be the queen.”
Skimming water onto his body, I’m not sure what to say. “I only know how I feel. I love you, Hutton. I’ll never marry someone out of obligation. I’d rather reign alone than be stuck in a loveless marriage.”
“Can a queen really date?”
“It worked for Queen Elizabeth I.”
“Did it, though? She died alone.” Although it seems to pain him, he says, “You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want. But while you’re here, I want you to think about what you really want and how you see your life going, because it might not be with me.”
“I—”
This time, he presses a finger to my lips. “Think about it. When you’re alone, when you’re rested, when you’re feeling ready. We don’t have clear heads right now.”
I kiss his finger and suck in the tip. His breathing picks up, and I’m held tighter around the hips. I gyrate on top of him, but I know I won’t be able to wait. Like our relationship, I don’t need slow or to warm up to this man. I want all of him—fast, hard, and like a whirlwind.
Our bodies connect as he slides inside me. I drag my nails down his chest, not to break the skin, but to see him burn the way I do deep within. The room magically goes dark, the city lights providing all the light we need to see each other. As I move on top of him, I say, “I know why you said when I’m alone.”
That smile that wins me over every time it appears, and he says, “Oh yeah?”
“Because when we’re together, I don’t think clearly at all.” I let my head fall back. “God, you feel so good. Will this ever get old?”
“No.”
I look up, surprised, but not really by the simplistic answer, because he’s right. His hand sneaks around and touches me, making my thoughts blur and my body weak to his attention. Lifting up, I push back down and repeat. Again and again until my body clenches and tremors course from my center.
My shoulders are held, my body pressed down as I embrace his release and it becomes mine again, tearing through the darkness I found behind my eyelids and shining his light inside me.
This is right.
Hutton is right.
But how do we play into my role as queen?
In the middle of the night, both sated and Hutton asleep, I slip out and grab a shirt on my way to the living room. I open the blinds but leave off the lights. After making a cup of tea, I stop to smell the roses. Holding the bouquet, I bury my nose in the soft petals of the pink flowers.
I spend a few minutes searching the cabinets for a vase but don’t find any. That Hutton doesn’t own one makes me smile. I get creative, and when I’m done, I’m the one smiling.
Taking my tea, I move to the windows, raising one panel so I can see out. With this new world at my feet and being alone for the first time in longer than I can remember, I allow myself to think about who I really want to be.
26
Ally
The duke scrambles up the stairs after me. “You will not ruin this for me, Belle.”
I run, but I’m unstable on the cobbled terrace. I reach the door and am about to scream for help, but my mouth is covered, and I’m dragged backward.
One hit to his head knocks him sideways, but he takes me with him. Catching his balance, he hides us from sight behind a large column. “I know what you’ve done.” His breath, which is as rancid as his heart, burns my nostrils. “I know how you let him fuck you, soiling your body as well as your reputation.”
The fight leaves me in a harsh breath, and my feet come to a stop.
“That got your attention,” he says, releasing me.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He laughs. “If you didn’t, you wouldn’t still be here.” He leans against the column and rubs his ear where I whacked him. “I still made the offer knowing my future Queen, the one I was promised when I was ten years old, laid with another man.”
My hands are shaking, my heart thundering in my chest. Oh shit. Surely he can’t know.
This man has been a part of my life since before I remember. I may not have known I was promised to him, but some part of me I refused to acknowledge knew he was in the running. When I thought he was being a friend to me, I was only a means to an end.
Look pretty. Be quiet.
My mother’s words haunt me, but I obey, fighting against my will to resist. Don’t give him anything. He paces just far enough to remain unseen from anyone inside and back again. “The day you were born, my parents made the appropriate arrangements and then told me to see you as my one and only. I did that. I waited for the day you would be—”
“For sale?” Sometimes, my snarkier side wins.
Disgust fills in the unremarkable features of his face. A lack of emotion when he looks at me causes me to shrink, my back hitting the stone column. “You joke—”
“No, I don’t. I know you don’t love me. I actually think you loathe me, but you’ve stuck around because you want the pot of gold you were promised. At ten, you didn’t realize that the gold came with the price of my life, but it does.”
“You know the laws. You know how things work, but you chose to defy our traditions, to deny your husband his earned dues.”
“I’m not your wife, and I never will be, but you haven’t earned my respect, much less any other part of me.” I walk to the door. I don’t run or hurry. He can blackmail me or not. Nothing I say will change his mind at this point, so I’ll walk away, hoping for the best and expecting the worst.
What could he possibly believe he’d achieve by outing my impurity? All I can hope is that he’ll not disrespect my family, as that would be unforgivable.
“Princess!”
I stop and look back. “Whatever you think you know, you don’t understand anything behind it. You can ruin me, Duke, if that’s what you want to do. But I only ask that you consider my family before you do.”
“What are you doing?”
Hutton’s voice cloaks me like warm sunshine even though it’s well past three in the morning. His body is silhouetted by the light coming in behind him from the bedroom. Seeing him in the reflection of the glass highlights his intimidating size as he prowls toward me, but I’ve never felt safer. My protector. My lover. My heart squeezes because he’s so much more already.
I try to keep my eyes on the million little lights outsid
e, but he makes it hard to look away. “Thinking,” I reply.
“About?” When his arms wrap around me, I lean my head back on his shoulder, loving the feel of his arms under mine.
“My life.”
The spot behind my ear is kissed and then my neck, which makes all those pesky goose bumps return, covering wherever he touches. “That’s a heavy topic, considering the hour.”
“You were right. I need to figure out what I truly want before I can ask anything of anyone else.”
The tip of his tongue tickles the shell of my ear. “Would anyone else happen to be me?”
Our eyes meet in the reflection. I can’t read his thoughts, but I can feel how he tightens his hold around me. Angling just enough to reach his neck, I kiss him. “I never had more than the throne to consider before.”
“I threw a wrench in your plans?”
“That’s a weird phrase,” I say with a soft laugh, which evokes one from him.
“It is.”
“You did.”
My hair is moved over my left shoulder, and then the right side of my neck is kissed. “I won’t apologize.”
“I don’t regret anything when it comes to us.”
“What regrets do you have?”
“No regrets. Just disappointed in myself. I don’t know if I will ever be what my parents want me to be.”
“Your parents should want you happy. Are you happy, Ally?”
Such a simple question. It should have a simpler answer. “I’m happy I met you.”
He seems to accept that answer, understanding the layers that corrupt the other aspects of my life. “Can I coax you back to bed?”
Spinning in his arms, I wrap mine around his neck, finally getting the first glimpse of those sleepy eyes that look at me as if I can do no wrong. “You can coax me anytime you want.”
“Come to bed.” He bends, and I’m lifted into his arms. I’m not sure if we’ll sleep or make love, but it doesn’t really matter. He is my calm in this storm.
I lean on his shoulder, holding him around the neck as he carries me into the bedroom. Setting me down on what has already become my side of the bed, he tucks me in and then climbs in on the other side. He moves all the way across this huge bed to be near me. It makes me wonder why he bought it if not to take up all the space.
His large frame could justify it. “You’re built like a Viking.”
“I’m built like a Texan, princess.”
I kind of hate that I love hearing him call me that with that note of sarcasm. “You and that Texas pride.”
“It’s ingrained at conception.”
“Ew.”
“Not ew. Do you want to have kids?”
“I’m taking it the talk of conception is the connection?” He smiles in the dark. “Not right now, if that’s what you’re asking, but yes, I want children. I would love to have a boy and a girl.”
“We don’t get to choose. What if you only have boys?”
“No chance. Bruden’s generally breed girls. That’s why they outnumber boys.”
“You’ve forgotten one very important detail.”
“What’s that?”
I’m pulled by my hips right in his arms. He kisses my cheek, and then whispers, “I’m not Bruden, and Everests breed males.”
“All male indeed,” I whisper, looking into his eyes. One kiss leads to endless kisses and getting lost in his starry eyes until my body is exhausted and my mind too content to worry about anything.
* * *
Jeans.
Chemises.
Silky, sleeveless tops.
Cardigans.
Tons of underwear from thongs to full coverage.
Five bras.
Yoga pants.
T-shirts
Shoes of all kinds from flats to a pair of super cute wedges to flip-flops and sneakers.
“How did you know my sizes?” I ask in complete astonishment.
He shrugs. “I didn’t. Singer ordered everything.”
“And Singer is your brother’s . . .”
“Wife.”
“Ah.
“I don’t have to go shopping at all. She did an amazing job. It’s like Christmas in here.” I pull on a pair of jeans that fit me perfectly and a white-buttoned top with a pouf at the shoulders. I slip on mustard-yellow shoes that make me smile, reminding me of our sandwiches. “She didn’t miss anything. How does my hair look?” The hair straightener and little bag of makeup she sent this morning with the muffins and orange juice are seriously impressive.
“Beautiful.”
If I’m not mistaken, I think I just heard him gulp. Touching his cheek, I ask, “Are you doing okay?”
“I’m fine. You just look so pretty and seeing you here in my apartment . . . I don’t know. It’s a lot to take in.”
My fingers begin to fidget with the ends of my hair. “In a good way, I hope?”
“Oh yeah, it’s . . . I don’t know. Kind of chokes me up, which sounds ridiculous. Fuck.” He turns to leave. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I sound like an idiot.”
Grabbing hold of him, I say, “Hey,” when he looks at me. It’s the first time I see the gold that centers his eyes, so bright in the sunshine that floods the apartment at this time of the day. We’ve never had a whole weekend together, so this is the longest period of time we’ve spent together. Yet it feels so natural to be getting ready together, moving about like this is my home as well.
I don’t miss Margie’s intrusive eyes assessing my every movement. I miss her, but not the sense of judgment.
There’s a calm that resides with him; a peace that he brings me. I love being here in his apartment. His home. Not a hotel. “You’re not ridiculous. I feel the same.” Love and loved.
Taking my hand, he turns it and kisses the inside of my wrist. “I’m glad you’re here.”
It may be short-lived, but at this moment, he gives me peace in the middle of my chaotic life. “Me too.”
“Are you ready?”
“I am. Let me grab the strawberries and cream.” I lift up and kiss him before we part. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself.”
“I love you, Hutton.”
Slipping his arms around my middle, he holds me close again. The bags under his eyes are gone after we slept half the night and day away, but that shadow has gone from five to ten o’clock. “We can be late?”
“That little waggle of your eyebrows is cute, but if we get back in that bed, I won’t be getting out again tonight.” I start laughing.
“Who said anything about the bed?” My happy whimper bubbles up automatically, making him laugh. “There’s the table and the kitchen island, the windows and the shower. This apartment has so many places that your naked body would make so much better.”
The man makes me swoon, but I hate being late. Pushing out from his hold, I dash to said kitchen island, putting it between us when he comes after me. I point my finger at him, and say, “You are very dirty-minded, Mr. Everest, and though that’s one of the twenty million reasons I adore you, you promised we’d be there in”—I take his wrist and turn it so I can see the bold Tag Heuer black and silver face—“two minutes.” My shoulders fall. “I don’t want to make a bad first impression.”
“No chance of that, baby. Come on, but promise me we have more than a few nights.”
“We do.” I come around and caress his face, and then slide lower to his neck. “I promise. I want so much more with you, but I want you to think about what you want with me, too. It’s important for us to hear each other when this conversation is had.”
“When is that?”
“I’m thinking sooner than later.” He’s right. We didn’t really discuss alternatives to being queen.
“I agree.”
“Good. Now we can go.”
He grabs a bottle of wine and the strawberries while I grab the bowl of sweet cream. Waiting for the elevator down the hall, he says, “That’s nice you made it.”
I gla
nce at the bowl and get an overwhelming sense of homesickness. “Birgit showed me how to make Bavarian cream when I was ten. She would make sweet bread and use this as the filling. We didn’t get to that lesson because I was too caught up in my own world as a teen and then off to university after that.” I swallow down the lump in my throat, and say, “She was going to show me how to make bread today.”
The elevator doors open, and Hutton pushes the button for the lobby. An arm comes around my shoulders, and he says, “I met her.”
“You did? When?”
“The other night. She showed me the staff stairs and helped me get to your room undetected.”
“There are cameras everywhere.”
“Oh,” he says, cracking a smile. “Maybe I wasn’t so sneaky after all.”
I nudge him. “Here’s an insider’s secret. No one watches the tapes. When I snuck out of the palace, I never got caught. I finally realized why. They film but unless something happens, they don’t have a reason to watch the playback.”
“So what you’re saying is that basically you’re not safe at all when you’re there?”
“We still have guards out front and security has tightened over the years, but we need someone to come revamp our whole setup. It’s one of the things I listed as a priority when I took the throne. In Brudenbourg, though, we have a very low crime rate.”
The elevator door opens, and he says, “Singer’s probably flipping out. She’s a big romantic at heart, so meeting a real princess is going to make her day. So if she freaks out, just know she’s harmless.”
“And here I was the one freaking out inside.”
“Why would you be freaking out?”
“The people you care about most are going to be there tonight. What if they don’t like me?”
“You know Bennett likes you. Ethan thought you were great when he met you. Singer will love you, and my parents aren’t here, so just relax if you can. I want you to enjoy the night. There’s no pressure to be anyone other than yourself. And no matter what, you always have me.”
