by Marian Tee
“Are you serious?” she gasped. “You have it the other way around! This wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t have so many stupid secrets to keep in the first place! Seriously!” She counted them with her fingers. “One: you have a dungeon – a dungeon, oh my God – for a basement. Even worse, two: you have a woman imprisoned in your dungeon. And worst of all, three: that woman is batshit crazy and she tried to strangle me!”
Her voice cracked.
They stared at each other, and when her lips started to tremble, the prince bit back a curse. How the hell he could stay angry – even when he knew he had a right to – when she looked like that?
He said quietly, “I’m sorry.”
The apology took her by surprise, and before she knew it, she was already crying, the tears gradually relieving her of her terror. Taking the seat across her, the prince forcibly scooped Fawn into his lap and, ignoring her flimsy struggles, pushed her head firmly on his chest.
“I’m sorry.”
The words had her forgetting about struggling, and she found herself crying even harder. “I was s-so scared.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
The harshness of his tone penetrated her shock, and Fawn fought for control, sniffing back her tears as she lifted her gaze to his. “I’m sorry, too. I know it wasn’t your fault.”
“It was.”
“It was not.”
“Will we never agree on anything?”
The prince’s tone was sardonic, but his gaze was gentle, and it was this that had her lips trembling anew. Eyes bright with tears she struggled to keep at bay, Fawn said with a bewitchingly tremulous smile, “P-probably.”
Ah.
Did she know how she looked right now? Any man would be forgiven for kissing her, and he was tempted.
And God, he was tempted.
Damn tempted.
Drawing a deep breath, the prince forced himself to lift her off his lap and place Fawn back on her seat.
They stared at each other, her gaze full of questions.
When the prince finally spoke, it was in a carefully neutral voice. “Before you ask anything, you must know that the more questions you ask of me, the more secrets you will have to keep.”
Oh. Fawn could feel her fear gradually ebbing as she stared at the prince. Her heart started to squeeze, tighter and tighter until she realized that she was hurting…for him.
And that was crazy, wasn’t it?
He was the Prince of Darkness, and he had the world on its knees, begging, craving, and crying for his attention.
So why was it that she felt he was suffering more than those women she would from time to time see sobbing about having their hearts broken? Why was it that when she listened to him talk about secrets he didn’t want to burden her with---
Why was it that she felt he was already breaking, bit by bit, by the weight of them all---
And she was the only one who could see it?
She heard herself say, “Tell me. Please.”
And so he did.
In a voice devoid completely of expression, the prince told her about the dungeon hidden under the house and how it could be accessed from inside and outside of the house. People held in his custody weren’t good in the conventional sense of the word, but neither had they completely gone off the deep end either.
It was, the prince said, his job to persuade them to turn over a new leaf.
Gulping, Fawn asked, “Persuade…how?” When the prince’s gaze bored through her, she could only shake her head, and her heart started squeezing again. “Why?”
“Don’t you believe they deserve another chance?”
“I do, but that’s not what I’m asking.” She bit her lip. “I meant…why does it have to be you?”
He said simply, “Because I’m the Prince of Darkness.”
Ah.
She touched her chest, feeling like her heart was starting to give up on the pain it was trying to absorb from the prince. And the funny thing was, she thought dazedly, he didn’t even seem to realize just how much all this was hurting him.
“T-the woman I saw,” she heard herself say. “Who did that to her?”
The prince stilled. He had expected her to assume he was behind the woman’s injuries…but she had not.
Why?
He wanted to ask. Wanted to demand. Wanted to force her to see that there could only be one reason why she did not suspect him.
But he could not.
Because if he did – it would mean forcing himself to listen to something he didn’t want to hear either.
“Her name is Beatrice Crichton,” the prince said finally. “She’s a special case, someone I took in as a favor. She’s actually the stepmother of my friends, Nick and Jason Christakos.” He paused. “She’s a star witness in a lawsuit filed by the twins.” He told her about how the shipping tycoon Abraxas Davos had almost succeeded in killing Beatrice to silence her and how, to ensure she remained safe, he had volunteered to shelter Beatrice until it was time for the former Mrs. Christakos to take the witness stand.
“Her ordeal’s left her mentally unstable, but the doctors believe there’s still a way to save her.” As the prince finished revealing the entire story to Fawn, it was then he realized just how much he trusted her.
It had him sucking in his breath, and again the prince felt his world tipping further to the side. And just like before it was because of Fawn – always because of her – that his whole world kept spinning off tangent.
“T-thank you for telling me the truth.” Her light brown eyes stared straight at him as she said with quiet conviction, “I’ll guard your secrets with my life.”
He would have smiled if he didn’t know that with the life he led, that could very well be possible, and the thought made his jaw clench.
Sensing the prince’s sudden grimness, Fawn chewed on her lip as she felt a helpless urge to comfort him. She didn’t want to pretend that she understood why he was doing what he did, because she didn’t. What she did understand was that he was her friend…and if there could be a way to make him feel better---
She would do it.
“I, umm, remember your friends,” Fawn mumbled. She had seen the twins several times attending the prince’s parties, and it was common knowledge that the three men, along with a few other select individuals, made up what the media liked to call as the BBFs, which stood for Boys with Billion-dollar trust Funds.
The prince inclined his head to the side, murmuring, “Is that so?”
“They’re the good-looking ones with startlingly blue eyes, right?” It was Fawn’s hope that he would be happy she finally had something nice to say about his guests.
Her hope, however, had the opposite effect.
The prince said icily, “I’m pleased to know you’ve enough free time while at work to notice the color of their eyes.” She could have said it was just…blue. The prince’s lips tightened as he realized how absurd he was being.
He asked abruptly, “Any other questions?”
She shook her head.
He shook his head back at her.
Fawn blinked.
“It’s quite admirable,” he drawled, “the way you think you can lie without me knowing it.”
Oh.
“Just say what you want, parthena mou.”
She said in a small voice, “But you might not want to hear it.”
“Do I look like the type to break if I hear something I dislike?”
Somehow, the prince’s derisive tone made her smile awkwardly. “No. I don’t think you’re easy to break.” And she didn’t.
Only an extraordinarily strong man could do all these things he was doing---and keep doing it, even if he didn’t have to.
Inhaling deeply, she said haltingly, “It’s just…I wanted to know. Did you have to be the one to keep her safe? Aren’t you unnecessarily endangering yourself?”
The prince’s face remained impassive. “And your point is?”
“It’s just…i
t’s just like what you’re doing with those girls, saving them, taking it on yourself to teach them. It’s like – it’s like you’re punishing yourself.”
Her searching gaze met his, and he sucked in his breath, feeling like she could see through his soul.
“Why do you feel the need to punish yourself?”
“I’m not.”
“I guess that makes the two of us.” Her lips twisted in a smile that made it seem like she was hurting…for him. “I can tell when you’re lying, too.”
* * *
“Stay here.”
“No, and stop treating me like a puppy you can order around.” She lifted her chin stubbornly. Another month had passed since she had learned of Beatrice Crichton’s existence, and today Jason Christakos had come for a visit. While she was certain the Greek scion was a good man, she also believed that the prince had succeeded too well in making everyone think all these crusades he had selflessly taken on did not have a toll on him.
But it did.
And it hurt, she was sure it was hurting the prince, even if there were no wounds to show.
“You won’t change my mind, prince.” She didn’t care if this made her nosy or she would end up doing something that could make the prince and his friend mad. If she felt like the prince was about to take another unnecessary risk, she was going to---she was going to do something she wasn’t yet sure of, but whatever it was, it would stop them from proceeding.
“I don’t want you to. Just mind your own business.” When the prince moved towards the door to leave the study, she hurriedly blocked his way and spread her arms wide. “No! Stay!”
The prince rolled his eyes. “Similarly, please refrain from treating me like a child you can boss around.” His eyes bored through hers. “Boss around being the operative term.”
Fawn gulped, the prince’s words reminding her she had almost three thousand dollars’ worth of reasons to do what he asked.
But----
“Y-you d-don’t scare me.”
The prince gazed at her with interest. “And why is that?”
“Because you said y-you like me.”
She could feel herself turning red at her words, and the only thing that kept her from drowning in a pool of embarrassment was the fact that in front of her, a similar shade had also stained the prince’s high-boned cheeks.
Oh thank God, he still liked her!
These days, she couldn’t really tell anymore. After the incident with Beatrice Crichton, the prince had been very, very gentlemanly towards her.
But the rest of his life was exactly the same.
The parties had also continued, and she still saw him entering his bedroom with other women.
Which didn’t hurt, she told himself. She had Grant, and that was the really good thing about her life now. Grant had been attentive to her again, calling and texting her every day, and spending every moment of his free time with her.
So life was good, and she would never have brought up that…thing…if only the prince’s emotional and mental health wasn’t at stake.
Forcing herself to meet the prince’s narrowed gaze, she continued shakily, “So you won’t fire me---”
The prince looked like he wanted to kill her now.
Fawn finished in a rush, “Because if you do, you would m-miss me. So…there!” She stole a look at the prince, and it was still the same. He definitely wanted to kill her.
Finally, the prince said, “You can be so remarkably tactless, parthena mou.” He shook his head. “Just like that time when you actually spoke of the length of your fiancé’s cock---”
Her horrified gasp cut him off.
“I did not say anything about that!”
He rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. You need not---”
She shook her head vehemently. “I would never---” She couldn’t speak. Apparently, when one blushed really hard, vocal chords were affected as well. She glared at the prince, unable to believe that he could make up such stories.
The prince frowned. “How can you deny it?”
“Because I didn’t,” she hissed.
“You said, and I quote---” His lip curled again. “Yes, he is big. I asked you if he was bigger than me---”
Her eyes widened. “Oh.” She finally remembered the conversation the prince was talking about. She started to laugh. “Oh, prince.” Shaking her head, she bubbled, “I w-was t-talking about G-Grant being so big---”
He scowled. Dammit, here it was again.
“---on waiting,” she finished and promptly giggled again.
The prince stared at her. “I beg your pardon?”
She nodded, still giggling. “It’s exactly what you heard. All I m-meant that time was that you and the girl were so fast, while it’s different between Grant and me.” She hesitated before saying reluctantly, “We’ve never, you know. And I haven’t ever seen his, you know. That’s why I was I was saying, compared to you he was bigger---”
Now understanding what that meant, the prince winced.
Fawn was fascinated. “Wow. You’re actually blu---”
“Finish that sentence,” he snapped, “and you’re fired.”
“Blu…”
Oh my God, what other word could start with ‘blu’?
Blu…rry? Blu…dgeon?
“Bluch,” she finished. “You’re actually bluch.”
The prince stared at her. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It’s, umm, German, for humble. I was so surprised that you could actually be so bluch – which means humble, did I mention that? Anyway, it’s amazing that you could be so humble to think Grant could be even bigger---” Then she realized what she was saying and it was her turn to blush as she finished lamely, “---than you.”
The prince didn’t even bother dignifying it with an answer and turned away.
Her giggles died. Oh no. Had she wounded his ego?
The prince slowly rubbed his jaw in an effort to keep everything under control. But it was impossible. And since Fawn couldn’t see him anyway---
He allowed himself to smile.
Grant had not been able to touch her yet.
She was still a virgin.
Not that it would have mattered that she wasn’t. He had thought that, but he had still wanted her. But now that he knew she was untouched---
It was going to stay that way.
Her virginity was his.
He turned back to her. “I’ve decided.”
Wary at the way his eyes were gleaming, she said faintly, “O-oh?”
“If you really care…”
“I do…”
The prince’s tone became deceptively casual. “Then I want something in return.”
And there it was.
“Like what?” she asked, even more suspicious now.
He crooked a finger at her.
She shook her head.
“You have to come close.”
“But you might try kissing me---”
“Even if I do,” he said with a shrug, “you can always stop me, can’t you?”
“Prince!”
A low chuckle escaped him. “Just teasing you, parthena mou.” His gaze captured hers. “I promise you. I won’t try to kiss you in any way, and I won’t make you kiss me.”
Feeling like she was about to willingly throw herself under a bus, Fawn forced her limbs to work and made her way to the prince. She stopped when she was a few inches before him, and once again his intoxicating scent, so very male, teased and tempted her, making Fawn grit her teeth.
Grant. Grant. Grant.
She had to think about Grant and not let the prince’s animal magnetism get to her. She had seriously researched about this, and she had come to the conclusion that men like the Prince of Darkness were just too beautiful that it was natural for the female body to respond in their presence. It didn’t mean she loved Grant less. It only meant her hormones were working fine---
“Fawn.”
Her head jerked up, her entire
body trembling at the rare sound of her name slipping past the prince’s lips.
“All I want you to do is…”
Her heart skipped a beat at the way the prince’s green gaze burned with all those things that she had seen before and pretended not to know.
“For you to touch my lips.”
For one moment, she could only stare at him, unable to believe what she was hearing. When the prince continued to stare at her, his gaze patient, she croaked out, “E-excuse me?”
“You heard me,” was the prince’s lazy answer.
“You want me to touch your lips?”
“As promised, it’s not a kiss.”
“But---”
“Is it too much to ask?” He stepped away. “Because if it is, then it’s time for me to go, alone, which I had wanted to do so in the first place.” He started to turn away.
“Wait!”
The prince stilled.
“I’m g-going to do it.” She had barely finished speaking when the prince swung to face her again, so swiftly it had Fawn nervously sucking in her breath.
Oh my God, I can’t believe I’m doing this. Grant, forgive me, but at least it’s just something simple. It’s not a kiss. It’s just---
She raised her trembling fingers, pausing mid-air.
Oh God, she couldn’t breathe.
Slowly, she moved her fingers, and then she was feeling it, the soft firmness of the prince’s lips. She was about to yank her hand away when she saw the way he was looking at her---
Oh God, the way he was looking at her---
Unable to stop herself, Fawn slowly and shakily traced the curve of his upper lip.
She wetted her own lips.
And so did he, only---
With her still touching him, his tongue inevitably grazed the tips of her fingers---
“No!” She reared back from him with a gasp, jerking her hand away from his lips like she got burned. And oh God, it did feel like he had burned her, with that impossibly warm sensation of his tongue touching her fingers---
“You’ve kept your promise, and so I’ll keep mine.” The prince’s voice was still steady, but the look in his eyes belied it.
He was still looking at her like he wanted to eat her.
Why didn’t that revolt her the way Grant had?
