Her shoes are lying forgotten by the door.
I pick them up, turning them over in my hands, as if they’ll give me some kind of clue as to her identity. They don’t. Still, for some reason, I take them with me on my way back to my rooms.
I take a shortcut through the castle and pass in front of my father’s office. Voices make me pause.
“Completely naked, Your Highness,” Talin says.
Snitch.
“Probably screwing some whore, no doubt,” my father replies. I can imagine him waving a hand dismissively. “As long as he doesn’t get anyone pregnant, I suppose it doesn’t matter.”
My blood turns to ice as rage flows through me. As long as I don’t get anyone pregnant? He never loses the opportunity to remind me of the scandal that rocked my life when I was just a teenager. It’s been almost a decade, now, and yet he still brings it up every chance he gets.
“If he does, it’ll be his problem to deal with,” Talin says. “We have the Farcliff Dam Project to deal with. The Prince knocking up half the Kingdom isn’t an issue anymore.”
My eyes widen and my breath catches at the sound of his voice, the anger intensifying inside me. Hatred is too kind a word for what I feel for those two. Who does Talin think he is? Why does my father let him speak about me like that?
Then I realize what else he said. The Farcliff Dam Project was rejected by the cabinet way back when my mother was still alive. She campaigned against it, because building a dam on Farcliff Lake would mean flooding all of Grimdale. Why are they talking about it now? And what the hell does it have to do with my sex life?
I lean in toward the door to hear my father sigh. “Mostly, I feel sorry for the women he chooses. Poor things.”
My hand trembles as I reach for the doorknob. She wasn’t a ‘poor thing’ tonight. She was a fucking goddess. I’m sick of my father belittling me like this. He’s up to something, and all I want to do is beat it out of him.
But I remember my brother Damon’s words, and I know that I can’t burst in there. I can’t make a scene, and I can’t give my father an excuse to get rid of me.
For the sake of my brothers, I need to be on my best behavior. And as much as I hate to admit it, my father’s right—that includes not knocking anyone up.
Until I know why the King all of a sudden wants me as an heir—and if this whole Farcliff Dam Project has anything to do with it—I’ll have to play by his rules.
I bite my lip and turn away, gripping the mystery woman’s heels in my hands as I make my way to my chambers. I place her shoes in the bottom drawer of my dresser and slam it shut.
I need to find out who she is. I need to see her again.
Flopping down on my bed, I squeeze my eyes shut as the whisper of her kiss dances across my lips. She’s making my blood burn like I’ve never experienced before, and the thought of never finding out her name is not an option.
I will find her, and I will make her mine.
My lips curl into a smile when I think of her. Who knows? Maybe she’s the one. My father would love that. What if his stupid Prince’s Ball does result in me finding a woman?
Not just a woman—the woman. The woman of my dreams.
I’m pulled from my thoughts by a knock on the door. “Come in,” I say, pushing myself up to sit on the edge of the bed.
Nev walks in and gives me a small bow. His forehead is creased, and it takes him a few seconds to drag his eyes up to mine.
“Yes?”
“Sir,” he sighs. “I have her name, as requested. The woman in the white dress.”
My mouth goes dry and I stand up. My heart thumps and I take a step toward my butler. “Well? What is it?”
“Dahlia Raventhal,” he says, and my stomach sours.
A Raventhal?
Shit.
10
Elle
My bare feet are cut and bleeding by the time I stumble into my apartment. Dahlia pokes her head out of her bedroom door, the smile quickly slipping off her face as she takes in the sight of me. My best friend’s eyes widen and horror paints itself on her features.
“Elle! What happened? Oh my gosh, are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I’m good.” My lips twitch and understanding flits across Dahlia’s face.
“You had sex, didn’t you?”
I start laughing and clap my hand over my mouth. My torn gown falls to my waist and I scramble to pick it back up as the giggles bubble through me. Dahlia stares at me, wide-eyed with amazement. Her mouth drops open and she shakes her head.
“Well I’ll be… Who was it?”
I shake my head, squeezing my eyes shut. I can’t tell her. I can’t tell anyone. That’s the kind of gossip that will get me kicked off the rowing team, out of Farcliff University, and possibly even out of the Kingdom. No one can know that I slept with the Prince… including the Prince himself.
“Don’t know,” I say, averting my eyes. I’m a terrible liar.
But if Dahlia notices, she doesn’t say anything. She just claps her hands and laughs, hopping and dancing toward me. “What happened to your dress? Your shoes? Your hair? Are you sure you weren’t attacked by a pack of hungry cougars on the way home? You’re a mess.”
I shake my head, grinning. “No cougars. Just him. It was… intense.”
“Never have I ever been more proud.”
“I need a shower.”
“Yes, you do,” Dahlia nods. “And I’ll be right here in the kitchen patiently waiting for all the details when you come out.”
By the time Dahlia lets me go to bed, it’s well past two o’clock in the morning. I tell her I didn’t know who the guy was, despite her repeated prodding. Mostly, she seems proud of me. In a way, I’m proud of myself, too. It felt good to let go and do something crazy. My life has been so regimented and so focused on rowing that I haven’t had any time to let loose.
What little hair I do have, I let down in a big way tonight.
I get to my bedroom door when Dahlia calls out. “Did you use protection?”
I freeze, slowly turning to face her. She leans against her bedroom door, eyebrow arched. “Did you?”
I shake my head.
“Elle!”
“I know, I know. We just went for it. I know it was irresponsible, but it just… happened.” I shrug.
“And you’re not on the pill.” Dahlia’s face is stern.
It’s not a question—she already knows I’m not—but I still answer. “No. I started getting migraines and it was affecting my rowing, so I went off it. It’s not like I’m having sex regularly.”
“I’ll go with you to get the morning after pill tomorrow.”
I bite my lip. “I can’t, Dahlia. My medical records get monitored by the rowing team. If they see that I’ll be in deep trouble.”
“I’ll get the pill in my name, and you can use it.”
“This town is too small, Dahlia. Someone will find out.”
“Not from me.”
“If the morning after pill makes me sick, I’ll miss practice and Coach will know something is wrong.”
“So you can’t take one day off rowing even if you’re sick?”
“Dahlia, the Spring Regatta is in seven weeks. I can’t take any days off. Tonight was my day off. I shouldn’t have even been there! If anyone finds out, I could be benched for the regatta.”
“Coach Bernard is not going to bench his best female sculler for the most important regatta of the year.”
“He’s done it before. Last year, he benched Maddie McLennan when she went out partying the night before practice.”
“So, what? You’ll risk getting pregnant? Won’t that affect your rowing a little more than a bit of cramping from the morning after pill?” Dahlia takes a step toward me, hands on her hips and lips pinched together. I’ve never seen her this serious.
“We had sex one time. What are the chances of me getting pregnant? Almost zero.”
“‘Almost zero’ isn’t the same thing as ‘actuall
y zero’,” she says, drawing her eyebrows together. “Come on, Elle. Think about this.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. That’s the thing, though—I can’t think. It’s way past my bedtime, and tonight has been far too much to take in. Every two seconds, my mind flicks back to the Prince. To his hands on my body, his lips on mine, his…
I know she’s right. I should be responsible, but the timing couldn’t be worse. There’s too much at stake. I can’t miss practice on Monday, and I’ve seen how sick girls get after taking the morning after pill. I can’t risk anyone knowing Dahlia got the pill for me, either. I can’t risk anyone finding out about tonight.
The chances of me getting pregnant are so small, it seems so unlikely…
I shake my head. “Dahlia, please. I’ll take my chances. There’s no way I’m pregnant from one time.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“I just want to row. If I lose that, I lose everything. You know how much that prize money would change my life and how much I need this scholarship.”
My friend’s forehead creases, and her pale blue eyes stare into mine. She lets out a sigh and finally nods. “I get it. I don’t agree, but I get it. You’re risking more by taking the pill than you are by not taking it.”
My shoulders relax a fraction of an inch. I nod. “Exactly.”
“Fine.” Dahlia throws me another sideways glance and sighs. “At least you got to have fun tonight. Did you see Prince Charlie at all? Is he as hot as everyone says?”
Hotter. “Only from a distance,” I say, glancing away. “I didn’t go near him.”
When I lift my eyes up to Dahlia’s she’s staring at me curiously. Then she shrugs. “Okay. Goodnight.”
We each go into our bedrooms, and I lie in bed staring at the ceiling. I’m not ready to sleep yet. I close my eyes, committing every detail of the night to memory. I know I’ll never have an experience like this again, and I want to be able to think back on it in as much vivid detail as possible.
The feel of the Prince’s—of Charlie’s—rough hands on my skin. How his tattoos shifted and slid with his skin when he moved. How his lips tasted sweet and his skin tasted sweaty, and how he smelled like pine and spice. And maybe most importantly, I remember how he made me feel.
Picking me up, driving himself inside me, grunting, looking at me like I was a goddess. I’ve never been looked at like that before. I’ve always been the ogre, the freak.
But not with him.
He made me feel like a woman. He made me love my body in a way that I’ve never loved it before. I’ve always liked what it can do, of course—that’s what makes me great on the water—but I’ve never felt so attractive in my entire life. I squeeze my eyes shut and run my hands over my body, bringing them up to my chest.
My heart thumps under my palm, and it feels like something shifts inside me. This night is significant. Not just because of the sex, but because it makes me realize that I am desirable.
Before Charlie looked at me with those dark, heady eyes, I hadn’t realized how much insecurity I held inside. But now…
Now, I know what I’ve been missing—and I want more.
I want to have that feeling with me all the time.
The only problem is I can never, ever have it again.
11
Charlie
I’ve barely slept all night. I pace my room back and forth, running my fingers through my hair. Catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I sigh and pat my thick, dark hair back down again. I look like a mess.
After Neville told me Dahlia’s name, I couldn’t go back to the party.
The Raventhals were kicked out of Farcliff after my mother died. Tabitha Raventhal—Dahlia’s mother—was one of my mother’s best friends, and she was making a lot of noise about an inquest into my mother’s death. Lady Raventhal went on the news saying the Queen had died suspiciously.
I don’t remember all the details—I was young, barely eleven years old when my mother died, but I do remember it caused a lot of fuss at the castle, and Tabitha Raventhal’s claims were largely ridiculed. She ended up trying to take me away from my father, and the whole thing made my mother’s death that much more difficult to deal with.
My father had the entire Raventhal family removed from Farcliff. It was a disaster. I remember being angrier than I’d ever been at the Raventhals for desecrating the memory of my mother like that. I was just a kid, and I was grieving. That’s probably what Tabitha was doing, too—trying to find some sense in a senseless death.
Inviting the Raventhals to the Prince’s Ball has been the first olive branch since my mother died.
And now, I’ve just slept with her daughter? That’s a bit more than an olive branch. If my father finds out, he’ll think I did it to spite him. He’ll think it’s an insult to the Queen’s memory.
I should never have had unprotected sex with her. With a Raventhal? How stupid could I be? I should have insisted that she tell me she was on contraception, or at least make sure she took the morning after pill. Maybe she’s just here to cause more controversy, just like her mother did.
Then, I remember the way she looked at me as she was leaving. I’m not trying to trap you. I have other things to worry about. Her words play in my head, over and over.
She was telling the truth. She wasn’t trying to have my kid. I’m just paranoid. I’ve always been like this—ever since the whole mess with my governess. I sit down on the edge of my bed, dropping my head in my hands and groaning. There are too many memories trying to come to the surface right now. The name Raventhal makes me think of my mother’s death, and my mother’s death makes me think of everything that happened in the years that followed.
After my mother died, things spiraled out of control. I don’t remember much about those years. My father was angry with me often. I didn’t have any friends.
Then, there was my governess, Charlotte Thorne. My first love, and my first betrayal—at the tender age of fifteen. That was the start of my locked trash cans and worries about illegitimate children.
So yeah, you could say I’ve got some baggage.
I know I have issues trusting women, and I know I’m paranoid about them using me to get pregnant, but last night felt different. A part of me wants to trust her—and that scares me.
But I knew it the moment I saw her get out of that orange Jeep—she’s not like other women.
Dahlia Raventhal would probably be my father’s last choice for a wife for me—if he accepted her at all.
My hair is sticking up again, and I didn’t even realize I was running my hands through it. I rub my palms over my face and groan. This is a fucking mess. I’m hung up on a woman who’s been banished from the Kingdom for nearly fifteen years.
If Dahlia hadn’t been there last night, I could be happily waking up next to one of the countless other girls at that party whose mother hadn’t caused shockwaves across the entire Kingdom. My life could be the same as it was twenty-four hours ago. Instead, I’m pacing my room like a madman as a sick feeling gurgles in my stomach.
No wonder she wouldn’t tell me her name. If I’d have known, I’d never have slept with her. Instead, she took advantage of me and my stupid sex drive. My lips pinches together and distaste sours my stomach until I feel like throwing up.
The nausea curls up my spine, icing my veins and making me reach for something—anything—that will make it go away.
So, I reach for anger. I stop pacing, standing in the middle of my room as I let the memories of my past come flooding back the surface.
The shock of finding my mother dead. The grief. The horror of Tabitha Raventhal’s accusations. The shame that it brought on my entire family.
The anger.
Ah, anger—I know it well. Anger thaws the ice in my veins and shields me from the shame of what happened with Charlotte Thorne. Rage twists my lips into an ugly smile and makes my eyes flash. It makes me the best boxer that Bo has ever seen. It makes me a fucking animal in bed—the kind o
f man that women come crawling back to even though they know they shouldn’t.
Yes, anger is my friend, and I’m going to use it.
I go to my bathroom and splash some water onto my face, giving the emotion time to ripen in my blood. When I look at myself in the mirror, my eyes are dark and my face is determined.
I’m going to find Dahlia, and I’m going to make her pay.
It’s not hard to find someone when you’re royalty. Neville has already done the hard work, and he hands me an address as soon as I call him. It’s just past nine o’clock in the morning, and it’s high time I confronted Dahlia Raventhal.
The instant I get her address, I grab her forgotten shoes and go straight to my bike, tearing down the streets on my way to Dahlia’s house.
A thousand thoughts cross my mind.
I wonder what she’s wearing.
My grip on the bike tightens and I shake that particular thought away. That’s not what I want to think about. I want to remember the pain of her mother’s accusations and how they ripped my family to pieces. How the Raventhals leaving Farcliff was the best thing that could have happened.
Yes, those are useful things to think about. Not the scent of Dahlia’s hair, or the way her moans made my cock throb. Not the way I wanted her full, pink lips wrapped around my girth.
Maybe I could fuck her just one more time… I could teach her a lesson about lying to me.
My lips curl into a smile. I’ll teach her a hard lesson. There’ll be no softness in me this time. She’ll be the next one with my handprint on her ass. I’ll use her body and leave her behind—just like I always do. Just like it was done to me when I was too young to know what was going on.
The motorcycle roars underneath me as I accelerate. I want to be cruel. I want her to want me so badly she can’t let me go… and then I’ll walk out of her life forever.
No one lies to me about who they are. Because that’s exactly what Dahlia did when she refused to tell me her name. She lied.
There’s only one way to deal with liars. Teach them a lesson that they won’t forget.
Knocked Up by Prince Charming: Knocked Up Royals: Book 1 Page 6
