Bad Boy Prince: A British Royal Stepbrother Romance

by Vivian Wood

  “We’re just going to wait it out for a bit,” I tell the head guard. “Could you call down an SUV to run us home in half an hour or so?”

  The guard nods, and I walk over to take a seat beside Kit. I take her hand, and she looks at me, anguished.

  “I didn’t,” she says woodenly. “I didn’t do what he said, Rex. I miscarried.”

  Her voice breaks on the last bit, and though my hands are gentle when I pull her into my arms, cradling her on my lap, inside I’m beginning to fill with rage.

  I don’t know how I’m going to do it yet, but I’m going to make Charles Ford feel a world a fucking pain. No one hurts Kit and gets away with it, no one. He’ll be lucky to escape with his fucking life.

  As for Kit and me… I can’t even start to imagine what will await us in the coming days.

  It seems dire, but at least we have each other. We haven’t exactly said our feelings aloud, made a commitment to each other through words, but I’m sure Kit is every bit as entwined as I am.

  Together, we can face nearly anything.

  Right?

  16

  Kit

  I am gutted. Hollow.

  One of the most physical and emotionally painful events in my life has been exposed, offered up to the press like chum to stir up sharks. There’s going to be a feeding frenzy, with me right in the center. And what’s worse is that Charles has added a layer of lies, making the story more tantalizing to the media and more damaging to me.

  I have to hand it to him, Charles really wrecked my life while earning himself a no doubt tidy sum of money for selling his story.

  Rex and I are silent, sitting in the back seat of the SUV on the ride home.

  Me, I’m stuck in this endless loop, remembering the moment I heard the word miscarriage.

  Sitting in the doctor’s office at Planned Parenthood, shivering in that thin paper gown. Terrible pain, worse than anything I’ve felt in my whole life. Worse, I know, I just know that something is wrong. The pretty brunette doctor gives me a sympathetic look, puts her hand on my shoulder, and says the words that change the course of my life.

  I’m sorry, Miss Saville, but you’ve lost the baby. You miscarried. It’s very common…

  She goes on, but I hear nothing. All I can think is, I lost Rex’s baby… I lost it, I lost it.

  Now I’m sitting in the car beside Rex, wondering if I’ve lost him.

  Does he believe the lies Charles made up about me? Will he force me out of his life?

  God, I haven’t even considered what Prince Archie and the King and Queen are going to say. They’re going to look at me the way you’d eye something you found on the bottom of your shoe.

  Lost in a downward spiral of shame, sadness, and uncertainty, I follow Rex up to his apartment. I toe off my heels and take my hair down while Rex rummages in the kitchen. He saunters out with two wine glasses and a dusty bottle.

  “Balcony?” he asks.

  I nod, leading the way outside, throwing the doors open to the brilliant night sky. I take my usual place, he takes his. He hands over the glasses and I hold them as he uncorks the bottle.

  “This bottle is from my parents’ wedding,” he tells me.

  My brows arch. “It’s that old?”

  “Mmmhm. I’ve been saving it.” He pours a little into each of our glasses. “It’s probably got a lot of sediment, so don’t be surprised.”

  I eye him, wondering just what occasion he’s opened this wine to celebrate.

  “To Charles,” he says, surprising me again. “For driving us all the way out to the edge of the cliff together. A true test of our strength, if ever there was one.”

  I smirk and take a sip, closing my eyes as the bold, complex red wine floods my senses.

  When I open them, Rex is refilling his glass, looking at me with a terribly serious expression.

  “I didn’t have an abortion,” I tell him, though I said as much earlier after the race.

  He sighs. “I know. Even if you had… what could I say about that? I wasn’t there for you.”

  I open my mouth, then close it. “You’re full of surprises tonight,” I manage after a moment.

  Now it’s his turn to look surprised.

  “You thought I’d be upset with you?” he asks, then shakes his head. “Not for that, no. For leaving in the first place? That, I am still struggling with.”

  My lips thin. The last thing I expected was to be back in this place, taking up arms in this same fight once more.

  “Put yourself in my place,” I tell him. “Your family’s fallen apart. You’re scared and immature, forced into this very grown-up situation. You’re alone in the world, except for your equally immature boyfriend, who says he’s not sure what your future together will be. Not to mention your family, the way they’d react if it came out…”

  I sip my wine and tilt my head, watching him carefully. “What we’re about to go through now, with the whole ordeal five years in the past? It’s nothing to the ruckus that the knocked-up shotgun Saville-Westwood wedding would have caused back then.”

  Rex sets his wine glass down, brows drawing together in anger.

  “You should have trusted me,” he says.

  “To what, Rex? Deal with it yourself, somehow? It was bigger than both of us, and there wasn’t a single adult in our lives that would have advocated on our behalf. My mum, your family… anyone would have taken me off to the countryside, and it would have been the same result. Not just that, but afterward they would have kept us apart, just as surely as the distance between Courtland and the States.”

  “We don’t know that,” Rex sighs.

  “I do! Rex, I know that. I would have ended up the girl in disgrace, and you would have gone right on with your life. What I did, Rex, when I left? I protected myself. And if I hadn’t miscarried, I would have protected the baby just the same.”

  “Alone? With no resources, no family?” His voice begins to rise, and I can tell his temper is passing the point of no return.

  “Lots of women do that. It’s not a bloody miracle.”

  “And you would have, what? Just never told me I had a child?” Rex roars. “My girl and my kid, out there in the world, alone? Making do with fucking scraps while I’m sitting in the palace, playing roulette and slowly drinking myself to death? What kind of fucking life is that, Kit?”

  I start to cry, and Rex makes a strangled sound.

  “No, it’s—” I struggle when he pulls me into his arms.

  “Please don’t cry, Kit. I just… I want you to be able to trust me,” he says, bringing my head down to rest against his firm chest. “What do I have to do to make that happen?”

  “I don’t know,” I say, but that’s a lie. I know what I want from him. The same thing I’ve always wanted. I want to be his, and I want to be the only one he wants.

  Forever. Period.

  I want to feel safe, knowing that he’ll see me through anything. I never want to have to hide again.

  But I just stare up at him, wiping tears from my face, because I’m weak and I can’t seem to say any of it aloud. Even this conversation is too much for me, and it’s starting to break my fucking heart.

  “Kit,” he sighs again.

  “No, I understand,” I say, pushing away from him and trying to get to my feet.

  “You understand what?” he asks, his tone going sharp.

  “Just, you know. This is all impossible,” I say, waving my hand to indicate us both. “This is stupid, a little girl’s stupid dream, and I need to grow the fuck up.”

  I manage to get myself on my feet and turn to leave the balcony, but Rex is too fast. He’s up on his feet, catching my wrist and yanking me back against the stone wall of his body. He can’t just let me go in peace, it seems.

  “Kit, stop running away from me,” he says, turning me to face him once more.

  “I’m just trying to do what’s best for both of us,” I tell him, my lower lip wobbling.

  “You’re being a cowar
d,” he says, those dark blue eyes burning into mine.

  “Our history, our families — I really do understand, Rex,” I tell him earnestly.

  “Kit, for fuck’s sake,” Rex growls. “Stop talking for three seconds so I can say what I need to say.”

  I go still and quiet, breath catching in my chest as I lock gazes with him.

  He draws in a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, then begins.

  “Kit, I know I made a lot of mistakes in the past. I’m going to work to redeem myself for that, I swear to you.”

  My brow furrows. If he’s going to reject me, I wish he’d just get it over with!

  “Where are you going with this, Rex?”

  A quick flash of humor crosses his face.

  “Maybe if you weren’t so impatient, I could find a more romantic way to say it,” he tells me.

  “Is there a romantic way to tell someone to fuck off?” I ask.

  “I’m trying to tell you I love you,” he says.

  That catches me, makes me freeze.

  “What?” is all my confused brain can come up with.

  “I love you, Kit. I always have, since we were kids.”

  Then I’m just gaping at him like an idiot, which makes him laugh.

  “Surely you can’t be that surprised,” he intones.

  “I thought you were dumping me,” I say, blinking.

  “Not unless you tell me you don’t feel the same way,” he says. He’s casual, almost teasing about it, but I catch the underlying note of apprehension in his voice.

  “Rex…” I say, drawing the moment out. I slip my arms around his neck, leaning up on my tiptoes, and press my lips to his for a brief kiss. Then I look up at him again, all seriousness. “Of course I love you. I’ve been lost on you half my life.”

  “Fuck, I’ve wanted to hear you say that for so long,” Rex whispers against my lips.

  This doesn’t feel real. It’s too good, too sweet and perfect to be reality.

  This is a fairytale, and Rex is the Prince… I’m no Aurora Rose, though.

  I jump into his arms, wrapping my legs around his hips, and kiss him madly. He carries me a couple of steps until my back presses against the cool, smooth stone of the terrace wall. I’m already so hot for Rex that I’m pulling his shirt off, my hips working against his.

  He manages to hike my skirt up around my hips, tugging at my garters, then whistles when he slides his hand up, up…

  “No panties,” he growls into my ear. “Fuck, you’re a bad girl.”

  “Just for you, though,” I promise.

  “I think you just like the way I fuck you, Kitten,” he says, sliding two fingers deep inside me.

  My laughter turns into a moan as he teases me, his lips on my neck, my collarbone. My hands clutch at his shoulders, pull at his shirt until I get it off.

  I run my nails down the waves of muscle that define his shoulders and back, all the way to his perfectly-shaped ass. When I work my hand between us, trying to unzip his pants, he does me one better.

  Rex holds me tight against the wall and unzips, then spreads my thighs and thrusts into my slick, aching core.

  “Yes!” I say, raking my nails over his lower back. “Just like that.”

  “Bloody hell, Kitten,” he breathes as he thrusts deep, again and again. “You are fucking perfection, you know that?”

  I can only grin and moan as he takes me up against the wall, hard and fast and ruthless. He catches my knee with his arm, bringing it up against my chest, and suddenly I’m so tight that I can feel everything.

  We both groan together, panting, and I know neither of us will last long.

  “Tell me again,” Rex grits out against my ear. “Tell me, Kit.”

  I know what he wants to hear.

  “I love you, Alasdair Westwood,” I cry, and just like that Rex’s control snaps.

  He fucks me wild and hard and reckless, until I shatter around him, until I scream his name. Only then does he come with a shout, sounding almost agonized as he jets inside me in long, hot pulses.

  When he finally pulls out and releases my legs, I am trembling too hard to stand. I laugh as I stagger against him; for long seconds, we lean on each other, struggling for breath.

  It feels… amazing.

  Rex kisses me tenderly, cupping my face.

  “Come inside, love. Let’s go to bed,” he says.

  He slips an arm around my waist and guides me, and I let him.

  I would follow him anywhere, I think.

  * * *

  When we wake up the next morning, there are news crews in every foreseeable direction, mobbing the first floor lobby and the grounds of the building.

  Tired and not thinking, I make the mistake, of sticking my head over the terrace railing and looking down.

  Instantly, there are a thousand camera flashes. Reporters hurl questions up at me like javelins.

  I blink; I was honestly just out to check the weather.

  I close the glass sliding doors behind me with a wince, then head back to find Rex still in bed.

  “Is it nice out?” he asks. His arm is thrown over his eyes, and I can tell he’s not getting up anytime soon. To be fair, we fucked for hours upon hours last night, and I’m only up out of habit.

  “It’s cloudy with a one hundred percent chance of rampant gossip and wild paparazzi,” I say.

  I reach up and pat my hair, then frown. I can tell just from the feel of it that I have wild sex hair. The photos they got of me just now will not be flattering.

  “You look gorgeous,” Rex says, peeking at me from under his forearm.

  “Mmmhm. Well, no one’s going to see it anyway. I don’t think we’re ever getting out of the building again.”

  “It’s a mob scene down there, eh?”

  “Yep.”

  “Come here,” Rex says, holding out his arms to me.

  I crawl back in bed and tuck myself down with a sigh.

  “This isn’t so bad, is it?” he asks.

  “No, but… I’m hungry,” I whine.

  “Do we have food?” he asks, looking thoughtful.

  “Not unless you had some kind of psychiatric break and went shopping yourself,” I sigh.

  “I need a personal assistant,” Rex mutters.

  “You need a refrigerator with more than just wine and condiments,” I concede.

  “So, until the heat dies down… I guess we just order in,” he says with a wink.

  “How long do you think we’ll be stuck here?” I ask.

  A slow grin spreads across his face.

  “I hope it’s months,” he whispers.

  He kisses me then, and we sink back down into the abyss once more.

  A girl could get used to this…

  17

  Rex

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Marj asks, patting my arm.

  We’re standing in the wings of the set where Leslie 360 is filmed. Leslie Mayer herself is onstage alone, recording the opening monologue of her popular evening interview show.

  I’m going to be the subject of tonight’s show, and I’m trying to be calm and poised.

  “I think I have to,” I tell her. “It’s been a few weeks since our scandal broke, on top all the crap with Mum and Prince Archie. And the video of Bram doing drugs… It’s not a very good time to be a royal, is it?”

  “That it isn’t. I have to say, I heard that Rex might lose his position at his charity.”

  “It’s true. I think… well, that’s what I’m here for, to fix things,” I sigh. “Set things straight. Rex asked me to come on and do the interview, because I’m more sympathetic than he is.”

  “Well, that’s for damn sure. You’re going to be great, I’m absolutely sure of it,” Marj tells me.

  I glance at Marj and smile, but we both know I’m beyond nervous. I’m wearing this knee-length lavender sheath dress that hides absolutely nothing, with my hair done up in a subtle knot and my grandmother’s pearls at my neck and earl
obes.

  It’s important that people see me like this, because the rumor that’s really run rampant this week is that I’m secretly pregnant again, but too famous to get a secret abortion.

  The headlines went something like:

  Katherine and Magnum: Inside Their Secret Relationship

  Magnum Caught Racing, Fired From His Own Charity

  Alasdair and Katherine: Their Six Year Long Affair

  Katherine’s Ex: ‘She Was Pregnant Five Years Ago’

  Lady Katherine: Miscarriage or ABORTION?

  Katherine and Magnum Are SHACKED UP! See Photos Of Their New Pad!

  Magnum’s Done It Twice: Lady Kitty Pregnant Again!!!

  ‘She’s Taken Care of It’: Housekeeper on Katherine’s SECOND Abortion

  Queen to Lady Katherine: You’ll Never Be a Royal

  Yeah, my life has spiraled out of control, really fast.

  “Katherine? We’re ready for you,” a production assistant says. “As soon as Leslie calls your name, head on out there. Just like we rehearsed, okay?”

  “Sure thing,” I say. I straighten my spine, she calls my name, and I stride out onstage to greet Leslie with a wide smile. She’s a fifty-something blonde done up in a chic Chanel dress not unlike my own, and her brown eyes sparkle with warmth when I reach her.

  “Lady Katherine Saville, everyone!” Leslie announces to the live audience just a hundred yards. They applaud politely, though they seem a bit skeptical.

  Leslie and I shake hands, I take the armchair next to hers, and she gets right down to business.

  “Lady Saville…”

  “Katherine, please,” I tell her.

  “Katherine. There are so many rumors swirling about you and Prince Alasdair right now. Can you set the record straight for us?”

  “Thank you, Leslie.” I take a deep breath and look straight at the camera. “Alasdair and I dated in high school. We weren’t terribly smart, and I’m afraid I did become pregnant. I had recently lost my father, and I was grieving. I moved away to college without telling anyone, and subsequently lost the pregnancy.”