The Exiled Prince

by Jeana E. Mann

  “Have you asked him to explain?”

  “No. Not yet.” Confrontation had never been my strong suit. What if he said Nicky’s accusations were true?

  “Well, you can’t jump to conclusions. This Nicky person isn’t a trustworthy source. You said yourself that he’ll twist things around to suit his needs.” Her smile filled me with warmth.

  “Excuse me, Ms. Donahue. May I speak with you a moment?” The facility director mustered a polite smile.

  “Sure.” I cupped Aunt May’s cheek. “I’ll be right back.”

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I wanted to let you know that the transfer to Whispering Willows has come through.” The furrow between his bushy eyebrows signified his displeasure.

  “Already?” In the confusion of the day, I’d forgotten Roman’s order to Ivan. The waiting list for admission exceeded a year. Surely he hadn’t been able to get her in within the day. Then again, he was Roman Menshikov and he always got what he wanted.

  “Yes. They called today to make arrangements. She’ll be moving within the week.”

  Given the circumstances of the previous night, I had no idea how to pay the fees at such an expensive place, but I wasn’t going to punish Aunt May for my mistakes. I’d find a way to get the money if I had to sell myself to do it.

  “Thanks,” I said. “Does Aunt May know?”

  “Not yet. I thought you’d want to tell her yourself.” He nodded and shook my hand. “Good afternoon, Ms. Donahue.”

  “Good afternoon.” I made my way back to Aunt May, eager to break the good news. The moment our eyes met, disappointment extinguished my excitement.

  “Hello,” she said. Lines of worry bracketed her mouth. “Do I know you?”

  Chapter 29

  Rourke

  After a disappointing day, I called up Mena and Christian for moral support. We had dinner and a few drinks. I told them a little bit about the conflicts between me, my employer, and his adoptive brother. I couldn’t bring myself to talk about my feelings for Roman. Even though I was angry with him, speaking of our personal relationship felt like a betrayal to both of us.

  As we left the bar, Christian stopped me on the sidewalk. “You look amazing. Whatever you’re doing, keep it up.”

  “What? A compliment from Christian?” Mena rolled her eyes dramatically. “It’s rarer than a unicorn sighting. Consider yourself lucky.” She stroked a hand down the arm of my pinstriped blouse. “Don’t listen to me. I’m just jealous. He’s right. You look fantastic.”

  “Thanks.” To relieve my frustrations, I’d spent a lot of time in Roman’s gym and running. Their praise bolstered my confidence.

  “You’re welcome to stay with me tonight,” Mena said. “Maybe some time away from this guy will give you a new perspective.

  As tempting as her invitation was, cowardice had never been a profitable endeavor for me. “I appreciate the offer, but I should go home.”

  “Suit yourself.” We hugged and promised to get together more often before going our separate ways.

  I flagged down a taxi and shivered in the back seat. Fall loomed around the corner. The nights grew chillier, while the days offered bright sunshine. Everly would be home soon, and I couldn’t wait to see her. Despite Mena and Christian’s company, the events of the day had left a feeling of emptiness. Times like these made me miss my parents.

  I picked up my phone and switched it on. A dozen text messages and voicemails flooded the display screen.

  Roman: How are you feeling?

  Roman: Call me.

  Roman: Did you go to the doctor?

  Roman: Can I bring you anything?

  Roman: Where are you?

  Guilt turned to acid in my stomach. Despite his packed schedule today, he’d been worried about me. I dropped my phone back into my purse. With my lower lip drawn between my teeth, I watched the bright city lights flicker past. I wanted to believe he cared. Had he gone to The Devil’s Playground because I wasn’t able to satisfy his needs? During my travels with Everly, I’d been around authoritative men. Rumors of infidelity and sexual appetites always drifted in their wakes. In my experience, Roman was more male, more alpha, than all of them combined. Maybe I wasn’t enough for a man who could have anyone or anything he wanted with a snap of his fingers. Maybe he sought the thrill of the chase, and now that he had me in his sights, he’d lost interest.

  The hands of the lobby clock pointed toward midnight when I finally entered Roman’s building and boarded the elevator. I stared at the numbers above the door. My pulse escalated with every passing floor. When I stepped out of the car and into the foyer, I had to rest a hand on the wall to steady myself. Roman often worked into the early hours of the morning. With a little luck, I might be able to sneak to my room unnoticed.

  The blue light of the full moon bathed Roman’s living room. I slipped off my shoes and padded barefoot down the hall toward my apartment. The bright, silvery orb passed behind a bank of clouds, shifting the room into darkness. I unlocked the door and went inside, not bothering to flip on the lights. Halfway to my bedroom, the hair stood on the back of my neck. A shadowy figure sat on the wingback chair in the corner, in the shape of a man. I yelped and dropped my shoes. They landed on the floor with a clunk. Roman switched on the lamp next to him. A shiver ran down my back. Hurt and anger and jealousy swelled to a crescendo between us. The room crackled with the intensity of emotions.

  “You shouldn’t be in here,” I said crossly. “It’s a violation of privacy.”

  “I thought you were sick.” The moon reappeared, casting the angles and planes of his face in sharp relief. Danger and strength sizzled in the powerful lines of his body. My head swam, intoxicated by his anger. I placed a hand on the back of the sofa to bolster my quaking knees.

  “I was sick, and now I’m not.” What was it about him that kept me so enthralled? His arrogance and unpredictability drew me in with a gravitational force too strong to resist. He was the hunter, I was the prey, and I reveled in the hunt.

  “Where have you been?” he asked.

  A bitter snort escaped before I could stop it. “I should be asking you that. Where have you been?”

  “I’ve been working all day. You know where I was.” The amount of hurt in his voice sent me back a pace. Then I saw the melted candles, the bouquet of flowers, and the cold food on the dining room table. “I was worried.”

  “Right.” A pang of guilt twisted my insides, but I pushed it away. I didn’t owe him anything. Not after what he’d done. Even though we hadn’t set boundaries for our relationship, I still felt betrayed.

  “Why are you acting like this?” The line of his shoulders bowed, as if weighted by a burden too heavy to bear. Another wave of guilt flowed through me.

  “I know where you were last night. You were at The Devil’s Playground.” The accusation burst out of me before I could stop it.

  His fingers curled into the armrest of the chair, but his face remained implacable. “Who told you that?”

  “Nicky.”

  “Of course. That bastard can’t stand to see me happy.” A shuddering breath shook his shoulders. “This is why I told you to stay away from him. He’s toxic.”

  At his admission, my insides collapsed. The truth hurt more than I’d anticipated. He’d been with someone else. Maybe multiple others. I wanted to fall to my knees and wail, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing how badly I was hurt. Unable to bear the pain, I shifted the emotion into anger and shook a finger in his face. “You lied to me. How could you do that? I trusted you.”

  He grabbed my finger, wrapping his hand around it, pulling me toward him, the pressure gentle but commanding. “Yes, I was there. With Gaylord. He’s joining the club.” I wanted to believe him, more than anything, but I couldn’t trust him. Not yet. “It was business, Rourke. Nothing else.”

  “Did you—did you participate or just watch?” Jealousy erased my common sense. The thought of him near any other woman liquefied my brai
n. I wanted to hurt him and anyone else who’d touched his proud body. “Is that why we haven’t slept with each other? Are you getting it somewhere else?” A sob caught in my throat.

  His face contorted, lines of pain deepening around his eyes and mouth at the sound of my distress. “Goddammit.” His nostrils flared. Icy blue eyes narrowed. “We haven’t slept with each other because I wanted to take it slow and get to know you without the confusion that comes with sex. We’re walking on a slippery slope here, Rourke. You’re my employee. I’m in a sticky situation.”

  So, this was how it felt to be in love. Waves of pain and longing and need more intense than anything I’d ever known undulated through me. On the outside, I willed myself to remain calm, impassive, but inside, I screamed at the injustice of it.

  “Is that what you’re worried about? Are you afraid I’ll sue you for sexual harassment?” I grasped for a way to hurt him the way he’d hurt me. “Do you need me to sign a waiver like one of your ‘girlfriends’?” With my free hand, I drew air quotes around the term with my fingers. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to take any of your precious money.” Too late, I recognized the flash of his temper in the darkness of his gaze.

  “I don’t give a fuck about the money.” With a deft twist of his arm, he maneuvered my arm behind my back. “Enough of this bullshit.” The movement brought my breasts flat against his chest. His grip buried in my hair, tilting my face up to his. “I like it when you’re jealous.”

  “I’m not jealous.” Every heaving breath rubbed my nipples against his hard torso until they were painfully erect.

  “Yes, you are.” His dark eyes glittered dangerously. This was the man I’d met at Bellingham Manor, the one who’d seduced and pleasured me within an inch of my life. “Put your claws in, kitten. I haven’t cheated on you. In fact, I haven’t been with anyone but you since we met.”

  I tried to wriggle free, but he held me tighter. The buttons of his dress shirt cut into my sternum. “Why should I believe you?”

  “Because I love you, Rourke.” His tone softened, and the grip on the back of my head gentled. “And I’m trying really hard not to fuck this up.”

  The weight of his declaration settled over me. I drew in a deep breath. He smelled so good, his unique blend of cologne and soap hitting my senses, making me drunk. With all my heart, I wanted to believe him. “I found a lipstick underneath the island in your closet. Can you explain that?”

  The muscle beneath his cheekbone twitched. Our lips hovered millimeters apart. His breath tickled my mouth. “I’m pretty sure, if you look closely, you’ll see that it’s yours. When you dropped your clutch at the masquerade, it fell out, and you left it behind.”

  “You kept it all this time?” He nodded. Tears burned the backs of my eyelids. Why would he do that? The answer made the walls of my throat constrict.

  “Don’t cry, baby,” he whispered.

  “I’m sorry.” The apology seemed inadequate to express my remorse. He released my wrist. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer. We stood in the moonlight for a long time, holding each other, not speaking.

  “The next time you have questions, I want you to come to me right away. Understand?” His voice was rough around the edges, thick and brittle with emotion.

  “Yes.” I buried my face deeper into the curve of his neck. “But you need to tell me what’s going on with you. I don’t like being the last to know.”

  “I promise.” He threaded his fingers through mine and pulled me toward the bedroom. “Come on.”

  My heartrate tripled with each step closer to the bed. When we reached the mattress, he bent his head and kissed me. The softness of his lips made my blood sing. I curled my fingers into his shoulders. Our tongues tangled in a leisurely dance.

  “I’m going to worship you,” he said. Despite the darkness, his eyes shone with heat. “Tomorrow, we’ll figure all this out. But tonight, let me show you how much I love you.”

  The only noise in the room was the sound of our heavy breathing. His fingers unfastened the buttons of my blouse. I shrugged out of it, letting it fall to the floor in a whisper of fabric. The gentle glide of his hands over my breasts and down my belly brought ripples of gooseflesh. He kneeled on the floor in front of me and placed his cheek against my belly. I held him to me, giving him comfort and taking his strength. The scratch of his five o’clock shadow on my bare skin did crazy things to my insides. I’d never needed anyone like this before, like I couldn’t breathe without him. He’d become the oxygen that fueled my heart and lungs. Him. Only him.

  “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you like this.” His breath tickled on my skin as he feathered butterfly kisses down to my pubic bone. “You and me. Alone. No one watching. Just us.” Large hands pulled my panties over my hips and smoothed along my legs, guiding the silk to the floor.

  The sight of this formidable man on his knees in front of me broke down the last of my resistance. I moaned at the touch of his tongue to my sex and dug my fingers into his hair. The combination of warmth and wetness on my delicate flesh reduced me to a wanton mess. He hooked one of my legs over his broad shoulder, opening me to him, lapping along my folds with the flat side of his tongue. When my legs began to shake, he eased me onto the edge of the bed.

  “Our first time should have been like this,” he said. “In a bed, just the two of us.”

  From above me, he unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it aside then stepped out of his trousers. The sight of his long, tanned legs, dusted with black hair, and the bulge beneath his boxer briefs renewed my trembling.

  “I don’t regret any of it.” I drew my hands down his sides, enjoying the texture of his skin against my palms.

  “I’m a selfish bastard. No one’s ever going to see your body naked again. No one but me. I want this all to myself.” He cupped my sex. “Are we clear?”

  “Yes.” I scooted backward on the bed. He followed me, walking up the mattress on his hands and knees between my legs. The act was so primal, so animalistic, that I whimpered in anticipation of what he was going to do to me.

  “Are you on birth control?” The weight of his hips pressed against mine. Something hard and thick pressed against the inside of my thigh. Jesus, I’d forgotten how big he was. My inner muscles clenched in preparation for the burn of intrusion.

  “I get a shot every twelve weeks.” My voice sounded husky and foreign. I ran my tongue over the dry expanse of my lips. His thighs spread mine wider.

  “Good,” he said and shoved into me.

  The unexpected friction tore a moan of ecstasy from my throat. When the full weight of his body lowered onto mine, I reveled in the sensation of being conquered. Heat emanated from his body, like holding a live coal between my legs. He continued to press into me, going deeper, until the tip of his cock touched my deepest place. I squirmed, trying to get away, fighting to bring him closer, unable to deal with too many sensations at once.

  “Oh, God,” I murmured and squeezed my eyes shut. The muscles of his buttocks flexed beneath my grasping hands.

  “Look at me, Rourke. Look at us.” He directed my gaze down to where we were joined. I watched him slide in and out of me with long, leisurely strokes. “This is me loving you.”

  Every push and pull of his hips sent delicious pleasure through my body. We fell into a slow, rocking rhythm. Our bodies worked together, instinctively knowing when to pause or move, how to maximize the pleasure. All the while, Roman dropped kisses along my forehead, cheeks, neck, and breasts.

  Afterward, he nestled me into the crook of his shoulder. One of his arms wrapped around my waist, holding me close. Contentment washed over me. Exhaustion followed swiftly on its heels.

  With my eyelids drifting shut, I snuggled deeper into his embrace. “I’ve never spent the night with a man. You’re the first.”

  “Is that right?” His fingertips made lazy circles around my breasts. “Well, I’ll have to make sure I’m the last.”

  Chapter 30
r />   Rourke

  In the morning, I awoke to an empty bed but tried not to read anything into it. Roman slept little and worked a lot. We had a busy day ahead of us. The plane for Edinburgh left this evening. I had a million things to do and only a few hours to do them. Of course he was up and going before me.

  I dressed in a pair of black slacks and a gray blouse, conservative but sexy. My hair floated around my shoulders to hide the bite marks on my neck. During the trek down the hallway to Roman’s study, my stylish black pumps barely touched the ground. Each step brought with it the delicious ache of being rode hard by a skillful lover. Lover. Roman Menshikov was my lover. Heat settled in my cheeks. Somehow, in the space of twenty-four hours, I’d gone from devastated to euphoric.

  He met me at the door and placed a cup of coffee in my hands. “Good morning, Ms. Donahue.”

  “Good morning, Mr. Menshikov.” The sight of his broad shoulders, draped in navy Armani, sent my pulse into overdrive. “You know how to make coffee?”

  “Of course not. I pay people for that.” He smiled down at me. “We’ve got a big day ahead of us. Are you ready for Scotland?”

  “Yes. Are you?”

  The brush of his lips against my ear made my nipples tighten. We’d had sex three times last night, but it hadn’t curbed my need for him in the least. “I’m ready for more of you.” Desire flickered in the depths of his blue irises. He dragged a fingertip down the slope of my nose. “But business first. I’ll be working from home today. Call the office and let them know, would you? And I’ve asked Julie to meet with us at eleven.”

  The phone rang, and the routine of our day began, leaving no time for questions. While he tied up loose ends before his trip, I packed his suitcases and confirmed our flight and reservations.

  At five minutes before eleven, I headed downstairs. I had no idea why he wanted to meet with Julie, but as the time for our meeting approached, I grew more and more nervous. Did he think our relationship would interfere with my work performance?