by S. E. Rose
“What are you doing in here?” she asks quietly.
“I couldn’t sleep,” I admit. “What are you doing here?” I frown because I didn’t think she’d be back till later today.
“Nightmare?” she asks, ignoring my question. She’s the only one that knows I still have nightmares about that day.
I nod. She comes to stand next to me, wrapping her arm around my waist. I place my arm around her shoulder, and we stare at the empty spot together.
“Are you still looking for it?” I ask her.
She shakes her head. “No. Not really. Sometimes when I’m bored, I look, but not like before. It’s not important to me like it was before. Why?”
I shrug. “I…I just wonder sometimes. I mean we know that Uncle Hans arranged Mom’s death, but the details…we still don’t know so many things about her murder.”
“I know,” she huffs.
“I knew it still bothered you deep down,” I say with a half-smirk because the most childish part of me likes to be right.
I know she’s rolling her eyes at me. “Augs, we may never get all the answers. We know that.”
I sigh. “I know. I just…that dream…I…it’s so vivid. I can see the crown in it, and it kills me every time. It’s like she’s sending me a message, but I don’t understand it.”
I feel her little arm tighten around my middle. “The message she’d want us to get is to be happy and live our lives. I’m very sure of that.”
“I know that. I do.”
“Good, now, how about that lunch you promised me?”
“It’s seven in the morning, Anna.” I wrack my brain for any excuse because I don’t want to admit that the president’s daughter is in my bed.
“It’s five o’clock somewhere,” she answers as she grabs my hand and pulls me toward the door. I laugh. If anyone can get me to laugh, my little sister can.
“I have to take care of a few things. I can meet you in about an hour,” I say to her.
She gives me a curious look. “Christ, you didn’t? Auggie, for crying out loud, can’t you keep your dick in your pants for five seconds?!” she scolds, placing her hands on her hips.
The asshole in me is smirking, but a small part of me is hurt by her assumption. They always assume the worst. I really have no one to blame but myself, but it still stings.
“No, Miss Holier-Than-Now, I did not bang the first daughter. There was an unwanted guest last night. Terrance and I smuggled her out to take her mind off it,” I explain as cryptically as possible.
“Who?” my sister asks, her eyes growing wide with curiosity.
“Doesn’t matter, won’t happen again. Anyhow, she got a little plastered, so we came back here. Terrance is here, too.”
Anna backs off when I mention this. “Well, call me when you want to grab a bite.”
“Will do,” I say to her.
I head back up to my apartment to find Kate still fast asleep in my bed. I decide to have the kitchen send us up some breakfast. My father will likely kill me if he finds out she’s here but watching her right now…it seems worth it. She’s truly breathtaking. Her skin is pale and there’s the faintest hint of freckles on her cheeks. Her hair is dirty blonde and has a natural wave to it. Her lips are pink and plump. My mind immediately goes to what they would look like wrapped around my cock. I shake my head at myself. Her hand lies on the bed next to her face. Her nails are painted a pale pink and she wears only one ring, a small gold one with an intricate woven design and small amethysts in it.
I pull myself away from gawking at the beauty in my bed. I need to work out.
I hit the gym before heading back to my shower. Kate is still asleep. Sleeping Beauty. I smirk as I decide it’s time to play with her a bit.
I walk over to her with only a towel wrapped around my waist. “Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty.”
I hear a groan escape her lips and my cock twitches in response. Whoa, boy! But damn, what I wouldn’t give to hear that sound escape her lips while I’m buried deep inside her pussy.
My smirk grows as her arms move up and cover her face.
“Come on, my little patriot, breakfast is on its way.”
“Five more minutes,” she moans as she rolls and buries her head in my pillows.
I slap her ass and she jumps up and glares at me.
“Why the fuck did you do that?” she growls. I like this side of her, she has spirit and spirited women are always the best in bed.
“Because it’s time to get that lazy, American ass out of my bed.”
She gets on her knees and puts her hands on her hips, and it reminds me a bit of Anna. “First of all, Mister Royal Fancypants, I am not lazy. Second, what kind of backward gentleman are you, anyhow? Why am I in your bed? And why the fuck did you and Terrance let me drink so much yesterday? I feel awful!” Just as she says this, she covers her mouth and I hand her the trash bin that I had set out the night before. I do the gentleman thing by holding her hair back while she vomits. That’s right, my little Sleeping Beauty, I am a gentleman.
When she finishes, she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. She looks pale.
“Here,” I say as I hand her water. She takes a few sips. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles, and I know it must sting her pride a bit to say that.
“No worries. I had a feeling you wouldn’t feel well. And for the record, we did try to stop you, but you, and I quote, ‘wanted to do whatever the fuck you wanted to do so we better step off or you would kick our asses,’” I say with a smirk.
She covers her face with her hands. “I’m so embarrassed.”
I pat her shoulder. “Trust me, when it comes to being a bad drunk, you have nothing on me, sweetheart. I rule that category. I am the king of it.”
She gives me a small smile. A knock on my door tells me that breakfast has arrived. I glance back at her and her face pales, I’m not sure if it’s another bout of nausea or if she’s scared she’ll be caught in my bed.
“Why don’t you go clean up? The bathroom is through there,” I say to her, pointing toward it.
She nods and scurries off as I call for my breakfast to be brought in…correction, our breakfast. I have two staff members assigned to my apartment, Harriet, who is about seventy and doesn’t take my shit, and Lacey, who is the exact opposite of Harriet in every way, shape, and form.
It’s Lacey at the door. She does her timid curtsy and sets my breakfast tray on my table.
“Good morning, Your Highness,” she says quietly, her head bowed. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”
“No, that’ll be all, Lacey. Thank you,” I say politely as she scampers toward the door. I shake my head. I wasn’t sure Lacey could cut it around here. She had come recommended by the butler school. Yes, they have schools to train people on how to provide service to royalty and the rich and famous. Harriet demanded I hire her and threatened to quit. And that told me everything I needed to know about Lacey. If you passed Harriet’s test, then you are a damn fine servant. Secretly, I think Harriet just wants to train her replacement so she can retire knowing that someone will be able to attend to me.
I pull up the silver platter lid. There’s a large assortment of bagels, toast, croissants, and fruit. Two glasses of orange juice and two teacups grace the tray. There’s a newspaper laid out on the table. I flip it open and see a photo of Conrad Johansen, a prick of a politician who hates the monarchy. I toss it aside, not wanting to know what lies he’s currently spreading.
I walk toward my bathroom and rap on the door.
“Do you like tea?” I ask Kate.
“Uhhh, yeah, why?”
I pour her a cup and knock on the door again. “I have some for you. It might help settle your stomach.”
The door creeps open, and there stands Kate, sexy as motherfucking hell, wrapped in a towel with long wet hair.
She eyes the cup. “Thank you,” she says as she accepts it. “I…ugh, I’m really sorry.” That delicious pink hue creeps up her face ag
ain. I notice that she has freckles on her shoulders where she clearly has gotten some sun. I itch to run my hands through her wavy hair.
“I also got you some fresh clothes,” I add as I go to the pile of clothing stolen from my sister’s wardrobe earlier. It pays to be friendly with all the house staff, including those who work for my siblings. “Sorry, no underwear, but I could send for that if you like?”
That pink hue turns red. “Oh…uh…no, th-that’s OK. I…it’s fine,” she stammers quickly setting down the cup of tea and grabbing the clothes from my hand. I can’t help the grin that forms on my face. It’s my nature. I’m the predator, and she is now my prey.
“Thanks,” she squeaks and shuts the door.
Kathryn
I lean against the bathroom door with the clothes in my hands. I look down and shake my head. I’m one hundred percent sure he stole these from his sister, which means I’m holding the princess’s clothes in my hands.
I have officially never been more mortified in my entire life, ever. And that is saying something because I once tripped while walking into a state dinner at the White House, and it was photographed and reported on every major news outlet.
The image of a half-naked Prince August is now burned into my retinas for all of time. I have seen him on many tabloid covers, but I always assumed he was airbrushed because real men don’t look like that, or at least they don’t in my experience…which is pitifully little, but still, I wasn’t expecting him to look like a carved-from-stone god.
I slowly dress, opting to go commando. I toss my underwear in the trash can and pull my hair back into a braid to keep it off my face. I look in the mirror. At least I look respectable. I could get away with this walk of shame without being completely humiliated…maybe.
I take a breath and open the door. Prince August is sitting by a table, drinking from a glass. I freeze. He is perfection. His abs flex as do his biceps as he brings the glass to his throat. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows the orange juice. I’ve never wanted to be a drink so badly in my life. His pants ride low on his hips, giving me a view of that V in his lower abdomen that has my mouth watering with wonder.
“You could take a picture. It’ll last longer,” he says to me without looking my way. Asshole.
“I was just wondering if you always walk around your home half-naked,” I retort, fist-pumping myself in my mind for my quick comeback.
He turns and walks toward me. He leans in so close that I think he might kiss me but instead he just grins. “Normally, I’m completely naked,” he says in a low gravelly voice. He pulls back and winks at me before heading into his bathroom. “Help yourself to food,” he calls out as he shuts the door.
“Holy shit,” I say to myself. I grab a slice of fruit and down some juice. I’m starting to feel better until I remember that I am AWOL. Shit. Jackie is definitely going to kick my ass. I head toward my phone which I see is sitting on the bedside table. When I open it, there is a stream of text messages and voice mails. I listen to the last one first.
“I hope he’s a nice piece of ass because I’m about to call your father,” she growls. Fuck.
I hit reply and the phone rings.
“I swear to fucking god, Kate! I had to track your damn phone and then confirm with palace security that you were there. You are fucking lucky that I haven’t called your father or my boss to report this incident,” she screams into the phone. I hold it back and grimace.
“Sorry,” I squeak.
“Sorry! Sorry! Seriously, you bail on me when fucking Jared is present and then spend the night clubbing it up with Terrance, who you can thank for answering his phone, and now you are shacked up with Prince Fuck-a-lot and you expect a ‘sorry’ to be enough! I don’t get hazard pay!” Jackie yells.
I’m about to answer her when the phone is grabbed out of my hand. I jump in surprise as Auggie holds the phone to his ear.
“Hello, this is Prince August. I assume this is Jacklyn Sanchez? Yes. I’m very sorry. I meant to have my security informed of our whereabouts but when Jared arrived, Terrance and I decided it was best if Kate was not present,” he says as though this is a normal conversation. Nothing, and I repeat nothing is normal about this. I sigh. What I wouldn’t give to be normal again. I barely remember what that was like.
“Yes, I see. Of course. Thank you,” he adds as he disconnects the call.
“You OK?” he asks me.
I nod. “I should have told her. Thank god she didn’t call my father, or we’d be engaging in World War III right now.”
“I’ve heard that your dad can be…a challenge,” he replies with a smirk. I’m beginning to think that smirk is like a resting bitch face for him.
“His reputation precedes him, then,” I say as I hold out my hand for my phone. He places it on my palm but allows his fingers to caress mine as he pulls away. I know he can see the goose bumps that form on my skin from just that slight touch. I look away pretending to look at something on my phone.
He clears his throat. “I will have our security drive you and Terrance home.” A knock on the door tells me Terrance has already been contacted.
“Hey,” he says, looking between Auggie and me. I can see the hurt in his eyes. I swallow. The last thing I want to do is hurt Terrance’s feelings.
“Hey. Auggie was kind enough to find me some clothes, so we can get going,” I say to him.
“Oh, uh, sure.”
I note he’s still wearing his outfit from last night. Auggie presses a button on the wall and a moment later an older woman is at the door.
“Harriet, please see Terrance and Kate to the security entrance. They should have their evening wear in dry cleaning if you could grab that for them on the way there. Security will be seeing them home.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” she says with a slight nod.
“Thanks for a fun night,” Terrance says as he holds out a hand. I can see the look in his eyes and this handshake is some kind of peace offering. My curiosity has my mind racing with thoughts of why they may have not been friends previously.
“Sure thing,” Auggie replies as they shake.
“Thank you, for everything,” I say quietly as I look awkwardly up at Auggie. I have no idea what I should do. Should I hold out a hand, too? Should I bow? Should I kiss his cheek? I don’t recall anything in the cultural customs handbook for formal goodbyes following a night of drinking and passing out in a royal’s bed and then vomiting in their trash can the next day. I decide being me is the best possible approach, so I lean up and kiss his cheek.
I feel him kiss mine and my mind freezes. His lips are soft but firm against my skin and his five-o’clock shadow is rough and makes me want to feel it all over my skin. I internally roll my eyes at myself. I need to not think these things. Auggie and I might as well be from different planets.
His hand grips my upper arm and he pauses there, his lips against my cheek for the briefest of moments before pulling back.
“You’re very welcome, Kate. I’ll see you later this week at the Summer Palace,” he says.
I nod and turn toward Terrance and Harriet, who is waiting by the door. Terrance and I are quiet as we follow her until she pops in to get our dry cleaning, leaving us in a hallway alone.
“Did you sleep with him? And now you are going to the Summer Palace?!” he asks way too loudly.
I roll my eyes. “First, no, I didn’t sleep with him, you asshat. I’d have to get him checked for diseases before I’d ever consider that, he’s pretty much labeled as Europe’s Playboy Prince. And second, the king invited me to the palace this week, not Auggie. I can’t exactly turn down the royal leader of the country where I’m studying.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.”
Terrance doesn’t say much as we drive to his apartment first. When he goes to get out, he turns to me.
“I was serious when I said I’d love to hang out. I’m attending a party this weekend. You should come. I’ll text you the deets,” he says a
s he leans in and kisses my cheek.
“Cool, I’ll see you later, then,” I reply as I lean my head back and close my eyes the rest of the way to my apartment.
Chapter Seven
August
Two-a-days. That’s the answer. I pound my fists against the weight bag.
“Rough night?” Gerard asks as he leans against a pillar in the gym.
“You could say that.” I don’t have a therapist. I probably need one. Gerard isn’t just my trainer, he’s my shrink.
“What’s her name?”
And he knows me well.
“Doesn’t matter. She’s off-limits if I want to keep my balls.”
“Sounds like you found yourself a live one.”
I sigh and let my hands fall to my sides. Sweat runs down my body and I wipe it from my forehead with the back of my arm, which is also sweaty, thus the sweat just runs down different parts of my face. Gerard throws me a towel, and I promptly wipe the moisture away.
“I…don’t know. She’s…different.”
“Core time. Burpees, go,” Gerard says without missing a beat. I groan and start on burpees.
“Maybe you need different.”
“Not. This. Different,” I manage in between burpees.
“Switch. Walking planks. I think you like this girl.”
I groan and get to it. “She’s. Not. A. Girl. And. No. Not. My. Type,” I huff out while planking.
“Augs, man, you haven’t found your type yet. Trust me. If you had, you’d be with her, right now.”
I pause mid-plank and look up at him. “OK, Yoda, what side of the bed did you sleep on last night?
He laughs. “Just hear me out. I know a thing or two.”
I finish the planks and crash to the floor, laying my head on the cool wood.
“I met Chrissy and didn’t have any interest. She wasn’t my type, or at least she hadn’t been my type. But I kept running into her. And then, one day we were the only ones at the gym at four in the morning. She offered to buy me a coffee to pick my brain about fitness, and the rest is history. Chrissy is my type. I just didn’t know it until I met her.”
