“The fact that you wish things could be different convinces me so much more that this is exactly what needs to be done. Who knows, maybe one day my grandfather will overturn his decision, or perhaps my father will if he’s ever King; maybe even Philip could.
“I was never going to be a King, Riona. The most I could hope for is a Dukedom, perhaps an Earldom, and our children would be Lords and Ladies. Stripping that from me, it doesn’t make me feel good, but it doesn’t cripple me, either.
“So I’m forever known as Henrik Stuart and you Caitriona Stuart. What does that do? What does that change? Nothing, absolutely nothing. Right here, in this bed, in this flat, all that matters is that you’re my Riona and I’m your Henny,” he murmurs.
“You need to stop trying to make me cry,” I hiccup.
Henrik presses his lips to mine in a swift and gentle kiss before he stands up and starts to walk away from me, toward the bathroom. Then he stops and turns around to face me.
“I’ll never stop telling you how amazing you are, how lucky I am to have you, and how much you mean to me,” he murmurs before he closes the bathroom door.
I hear the shower start, but my eyes are glued to that closed door, knowing he’s behind it and naked. I can’t deny that my body still wants him, especially after he’s said such lovely things to me this morning. All of it combined, his bright eyes, his grins, and his words of loyalty and devotion, I want it—forever.
I hope that I’ve made the right decision to stay by his side. Maybe I’m foolish, but when he says the things he does and looks at me with intensity and passion, I don’t feel like it’s a mistake. I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
I spend the day exactly how Henrik has instructed me to. Relaxing. I take a bath and then I comb through Henrik’s books to find something to read. I enjoy reading, though I haven’t had the time to do it as often as I would like. Maybe that will change now. Maybe everything will change.
Henrik spends the day holed up in his office. He does venture out a couple times, and every time he’s on the phone talking.
Later in the afternoon, I watch as both Sarah and a man walk past me and into Henrik’s office. They don’t notice my spying them from the sofa, and I don’t interrupt their obviously determined gaits as they hurry past me.
By the time the sun goes down, Sarah and the unidentified man have left. Henrik informs me that dinner will be arriving within the hour and to dress. I thank him and hurry to the bedroom.
I don’t know what to wear to a candlelit dinner on a balcony with my husband. Jeans and a t-shirt seem too casual for the occasion.
I decide on an off shoulder, loose, cream sweater and a pair of skinny jeans, slipping my feet into a pair of suede wedge booties. I leave my hair straight and my face makeup free. Henrik has seen me at my worst, my face splotchy from crying all night, and it’s just the two of us tonight.
I walk toward the balcony and I gasp at the table. There is a candelabra set in the center; cream tapered candles are lit, and there are two plates with domes covering them awaiting us. But that isn’t exactly what has me at awe, though it is very lovely.
Henrik is standing, his hip resting against the edge of the railing, and his eyes pinned straight on mine. He quirks his lips in a smile before he walks toward me. Wearing a pair of dark jeans and a light blue sweater, he looks every bit as handsome and devilish as he did the weekend we met.
“Good evening, precious,” he murmurs. “Dinner awaits.”
“This is beautiful,” I rasp.
“I can’t take credit in the set-up or the cuisine, I ordered it all; but I hope that you’ll enjoy the company.”
I smile as I sit down in the chair that he pulls out, watching as he walks to sit across from me. His green eyes are completely focused on me, nothing else in the world exists. Somehow, I know that we’ll work, we have to.
We start to eat and the whole scenario is a bit awkward, conversation being stinted until I take a sip of my champagne, then millions of memories flood back to me.
“Thank you for my second taste of champagne,” I whisper. His head shoots up.
“Riona,” he rasps.
“Tell me your most embarrassing moment as a teenager,” I say with a grin.
“Never,” he chuckles. I arch my brow at him and he rolls his eyes. “I was away at boarding school. A bunch of us decided we were going to get snockered and snuck out. One of the guys had some booze, so here we were, fifteen and pissed off of our arses. We finally picked ourselves up and stumbled back to the dorms, only to be separated. Everybody else went into their regular dorms, but for whatever reason, I ended up in the girl’s dorms,” he grins.
“You didn’t!” I gasp.
“I did, and I fell face first into the bed of the girl I had a major crush on. She screamed before kicking me out of her bed, and I tossed my cookies right there on the floor at her feet,” he chuckles.
“Henny,” I breathe as I laugh.
“You now,” he says, taking a bite of food and lifting his chin. “Tell me about your happiest moment,” he murmurs.
“My happiest moment, ever?”
“Yeah,” he urges.
I bite my bottom lip, wondering if I should admit to him what my happiest moment is. Then I decide to just go for it.
“Becoming your wife,” I whisper.
“Riona,” he rumbles.
Henrik stands and walks over to me, wrapping his hand around mine before he tugs me up and in his arms. I gasp when his lips crash down against mine and he consumes me, completely and totally consumes me as his tongue fills my mouth. He breaks the kiss and moves his lips across my cheek until they’re against my ear before he speaks.
“Marrying you was the best decision I ever made,” he whispers in my ear.
I STAND IN THE CONFERENCE room of my office building. It’s empty this very second, but in about ten minutes, it will be full of gossip rag and news outlet reporters.
I don’t feel ready, even though my speech has been written by my team and approved by my grandfather’s team. To say that he’s unhappy I’m doing this is a big understatement—but I don’t care. I’m doing this for Riona and me, for us. It has little to do with him when it comes down to it.
“Are you ready?” Paul, my publicist, asks.
“Not really,” I shrug.
“This is big for you, a very big step,” he murmurs as he sips his espresso.
“It is; yet, in actuality, it feels like it isn’t enough,” I say.
“She’s worth it all, then?”
“Every single part of it. She truly is,” I nod.
“I’m glad that you have that, then. Rules be damned,” he grins.
Paul, an adviser turned great friend. A colleague. He’s exactly who I want at my back today, and I’m grateful to have him right there.
“Shall we begin?” I ask, arching a brow.
“Yes, Sir,” he nods once before he turns and opens the doors to the room.
The meeting itself won’t start for another five minutes or so, but the reporters need time to set up, so I stand behind their podium and I watch them.
The reporters push and shove their way in, looking like the blood thirsty animals that they can truly be at times. I stand at the head of the table, a podium in front of me. I’m glad to have the small piece of wood there.
It serves nicely as a barrier between them and me.
“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen of the press,” I begin. “I’ve brought you here today to discuss a multitude of things happening, mostly in my personal life. I’ve prepared something to say, and then I’ll open the floor for questions. I’ll take, and answer, as many as time allows.”
“As most of you know, I have indeed married a woman from America. It was a whirlwind affair, and one that we didn’t realize was legitimate until a couple of weeks ago. Since discovering the truth, Caitriona has moved here and taken her place as my wife. My engagement with Lady Eugenie subsequently ended.
> “My family has not been pleased with my actions, nor with my decisions in handling this marriage. I will not be separating or divorcing my wife. A few nights ago, I attended a gala, where I was seen in the company of a friend, Princess Nicoline. There is no romantic relationship with us, nor has there ever been. I’m deeply regretful of my actions that night, as they hurt the feelings of the woman whom I care very deeply for—my wife.
“I am wholly devoted to my wife, and as such, I have made the very difficult yet needed decision to relinquish my title, along with the titles of my future heirs with Caitriona.”
The crowd’s low buzz turns into a roaring flame, and the cameras begin to flash in my eyes. None of it bothers me, though. I feel calm and at peace. I know that this is the right thing to do, that my Caitriona is the right decision for me—always her.
“Now, if anyone would like to ask me a question, feel free,” I say as my closing.
I didn’t want to blame renouncing my title on my grandfather. What good would that do? It would serve no real purpose, but rather cause more drama that he does not desire.
“His majesty, does the renunciation of your title stem from pressures from the crown?” one reporter asks.
“My renunciation stems from the fact that no matter how it is viewed, Caitriona is a foreign commoner with no ties to any royalty. To thrust her into this position with expectation would be wrong of me; not only for the crown, but also for the people,” I respond, earning a nod from Paul.
A few more minutes go by and questions are being hurled toward me from every direction. Not one person asks questions about Riona, nor are they tearing her down at all. I must admit that I’m pleasantly surprised, surprised that there aren’t any digs coming her way. They can say what they want about me, about my screw up, but I don’t want them to say anything about my precious Riona.
“Will your wife be joining you at your brother’s nuptials in two month’s time?” someone asks.
“If she will accept my request to have her at my side, I would very much like to escort her as my date,” I murmur.
Paul closes the questioning down after that one and ushers the reporters out of the room.
“You did very well,” Sarah clucks.
“They didn’t ask me anything about Riona. I’m surprised,” I say, voicing my confusion.
“They don’t know her yet; she’s been fairly hidden during this whole thing. You’re the cad who took another woman out,” she says, arching her brow.
“Don’t worry, Riona is not letting me off the hook easily for it either,” I grunt.
“I knew I liked her,” she grins before she pats my cheek with her palm and walks away from me.
I spend the rest of the day in contemplation.
I think about everything that has happened. It has been a whirlwind couple of weeks; and honestly, I wouldn’t change any of it for the world.
Caitriona is still of the utmost importance to me, as is her happiness, and I aim to make her as happy as possible. She is the strongest woman I have known, and more forgiving than any person I’ve ever come across. When she smiles, it feels like she’s giving me a gift, every single time.
Riona is my other half, not just because our bodies fit so well together, but because when she’s not next to me I feel the loss of her like a living breathing thing. She makes me feel whole. I just hope that I can make her half as happy as she makes me.
I gape at the television, my ear pressed to the phone, listening to Madison shout as Henrik speaks. I can’t believe he’s come right out, and said everything that he’s said. I’m still completely and totally in shock at his words.
“He’s wholly devoted to me,” I whisper as I finally speak.
“Shit, yeah, he is,” Madison mutters. “He’s deeply regretful for being a fucked up asshat too, did you hear that part?”
“He didn’t say that,” I chuckle.
“No, but he meant it. You know he did.”
“Am I stupid for staying here, after all that’s happened?” I ask, wanting her completely and totally biased opinion.
“I want to say you’re dumb, because I’m selfish and I wish you were back here with me. But as selfish as I am, I can’t say that to you,” she sighs before she speaks again. “He’s saying all of the right things, he always has. I think that’s part of his training or some shit.
But he’s saying them, and only time will tell if he’s going to back them up. He fucked up, royally—pardon my pun, but he did. Though, I can’t imagine the pressure he was under. He did something that wasn’t very nice, however, he didn’t cheat on you, right?”
“He says he didn’t,” I say, nodding my head like she can see me.
“Let him prove it to you. If he wants to prove it like he claims he does, let him,” she suggests.
“He’s refusing to sleep in another room,” I blurt out.
“Ha! Henrik knows the allure of the D, but you have the V and it’s all up to you what happens and what doesn’t. Leave his balls blue for a few weeks. He’ll live,” she laughs as though she’s hysterical.
“Madison,” I sigh.
“Seriously, Cait. You’re in control now, nobody else. Move your entire relationship at a pace you’re the most comfortable with. If you’re planning on staying married, you have the rest of your life to make this work. Don’t rush anything,” she advises. “I do have something else important that we need to discuss, though.”
“What?” I ask, almost dreading what she’s about to day.
“Your mom contacted me. I ignored her calls for a while, but she wouldn’t stop. She wanted me to tell you that she’s homeless now, living in a shelter. She also said she saw you on the news,” Madison says, sounding as though she’s cringing.
“Shit,” I hiss.
“I’ll let you know if I hear anything else. I didn’t give her money or anything. But Cait, I’m worried about her going to the paparazzi or something,” she says, voicing her concern.
“I’ll talk to Henrik about it. Thanks for letting me know,” I say, closing my eyes.
Luckily, she changes the subject and starts to talk about everything else going on in her life—her job, her new baby that is making her ill and fat all at the same time. And, of course, there’s James, who is not only a pain in her ass, but also the sweetest man to have ever lived all rolled into one. By the end of the conversation, I feel better, lighter than I have in a week.
“Make good choices,” Madison giggles as we end our call.
This is something her mother said to us, every single time we left her house on a Friday night and went out with James and partied. It’s become a joke between us, because we hardly ever made good choices.
“Riona,” Henrik murmurs from the doorway of the bedroom.
I wonder how long he’s been there.
“I watched your speech,” I blurt out.
He nods, making his way toward me and sitting down at the edge of the bed.
I don’t bother keeping my distance. He’s got his head in his hands, and he looks completely miserable. I crawl over to him and wrap my arms around him from behind as I press my cheek to his back. I breathe, enjoying his warmth and the stillness and calm surrounding us.
“I meant every single word. I am wholly devoted to you, Riona. I want so very much for this to work between us,” he rasps.
I release him before I move around him and onto the floor, kneeling between his thighs and looking into his sad face.
“Henny,” I whisper.
His hands reach out and cup my cheeks before he crashes his lips to mine and sinks down to the floor in front of me. His tongue snakes out and swipes across my lips. I can’t stop the moan that bubbles up my throat, and when my mouth opens, he dives inside of me. He fills my senses as his tongue fills my mouth and makes love to me. It isn’t hard and fast, it’s soft and sensual as he devours every part of me.
“I want all of you, Riona,” he whispers as he nibbles on my bottom lip.
“Henny,
” I sigh.
His hands fist in my sweater as he pulls it over my head, then his mouth is on mine again, his tongue filling me again in a soft, sweet, wet kiss.
I don’t stop him when he unhooks my bra. My hands tug at his shirt, pulling it out of his pants before I start to unbutton it, then slide it off of his shoulders as his lips travel down my neck to the tops of my breasts.
“Need you, Riona,” he whispers against my nipple.
I don’t say anything, my moan being the only thing that’s able to escape my lips.
Henrik unbuttons and unzips his pants, letting them fall past his hips before pushing his boxers down too. My eyes are transfixed on his cock, his long, hard cock. I watch as he wraps his hand around it and strokes himself, my eyes flying up to meet his, noticing he’s got a grin on his lips.
“Take off your pants and knickers, play with yourself for me,” he murmurs.
I slip my pants down my legs along with my panties and watch him stroke himself. He’s so bold, so unashamed, so uninhibited. I don’t know if I could do that, if I could be that.
“C’mon Riona, show me your beautiful cunt,” he rumbles.
“Henny,” I whisper.
“For me, precious,” he whispers.
I stay on my knees, not willing to lie down and spread my legs, not willing to be quite that vulnerable. But I spread my legs as wide as I can and let my fingers trail down my stomach to my pussy, swirling them around my clit before I let them run along my slit. Henrik moans as I dip two fingers slightly inside of me, dragging them back to my clit to stroke myself.
“Fuck yourself for me,” he mutters.
I look up at his face and notice that he’s totally focused on my hand.
With a heavy sigh, I slide my fingers inside of my pussy on a moan. Grinding my palm against my clit, I start to gently glide my fingers in and out of my center.
“Christ, yeah,” he mutters from a few feet away.
I close my eyes and let my head fall back as I start to thoroughly enjoy myself. My free hand slides up my body and I wrap it around my breast, squeezing as I continue to pleasure myself.
“Fuck this,” Henrik shouts, startling me.
Royally Relinquished: A Modern Day Fairy Tale Page 19
