The Throne

by Samantha Whiskey

  “Thank you for being so readily available for this press conference.”

  “What the hell…” she muttered, standing up.

  “I’d like to tell you today that Parliament has just passed a bill that I suggested and was drafted and championed by Prime Minister McAllister, called the Royal Coronation Act. It states that our archaic law demanding an heir be married before ascending the throne no longer exists.”

  Charlotte gasped.

  “Well, that’s new. Exciting, really, isn’t it? Jameson is already modernizing the monarchy, and he hasn’t even been crowned yet.”

  Charlotte shook her head at her stepdad.

  “What is it, Charlotte.”

  “That’s not Jameson,” she said, her voice clear and certain.

  A swell of hope rose in my chest. There were only a few people in this world who could tell me apart from Xander, and Charlotte knew from a simple press conference.

  “Look at that hair, of course it’s Jameson,” her stepdad said.

  “No. Look at his smile, the strain around his eyes. His shoulder’s aren’t quite as built. That’s not Jameson. It’s…”

  “Xander,” I said, alerting her to my presence.

  She whirled.

  “Hi, Charlotte.”

  “Jaime.” Her voice was a whisper, those eyes of hers wide and a little red. Had she been crying?

  “And that’s my cue to leave,” her stepdad said.

  As he passed me, he gripped my hand. “Damn glad to see you, son,” he said quietly.

  “Sir, I asked your wife—” I whispered.

  “And did she answer?” He answered in kind.

  “She did.”

  “Then you already know my answer. That woman’s been making up my mind for the last decade.” Without another word, he left, shutting the door behind him.

  “Jaime, what are you doing here? Why is Xander on TV? Did you really get Parliament to change the coronation law?”

  I walked toward her, but she backed up, then turned so the couch was between us again, this time lengthwise. “Charlotte, come on.”

  “Nope. You put your hands on me and then I can’t think straight. So you stay over there, and I’ll stay here.”

  “I’m not sixteen. I can control my sexual urges, no matter how badly I want you,” I told her, my eyes devouring every inch of her frame. Holy fuck, the woman had on leggings. Actual leggings that molded to her perfect thighs and cupped that luscious ass.

  “Well, maybe I can’t! You stay there until you tell me what’s on your mind.”

  “Currently I’m thinking that I’m going to change the dress code at all events so that you wear those every day all day because you look sexy as hell in them.” I stalked forward, and she turned until she was at the back of the couch and I stood at the front.

  “No! Stay!” she snapped at me like I was a puppy.

  Realizing that we probably looked ludicrous, I stopped and sighed. “Xander is pretending to be me so I could get here before you saw the announcement.”

  “He switched with you.”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

  “True.” She tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear. “And the new bill?”

  “I told Parliament that if they forced me to wed before I was crowned, they’d have to find themselves a new King. Considering they just lost the last one over a similar issue, they gave me what they wanted.”

  “You don’t have to marry Ophelia.”

  Was that a spark of hope in her eyes?

  “I don’t have to marry anyone to be King.”

  Her tongue ran across her lower lip, and I almost groaned. Fuck, I wanted to kiss her. Wanted to throw her onto the couch and bury myself in her so deep that she’d never deny that she was mine ever again.

  “So you have time.”

  “We have time.”

  “You did this for me.” Her voice was soft, and she stepped close enough to the back of the couch to grip the upholstery.

  “I did this for you,” I agreed.

  “And you let him announce it? Your first massive piece of legislation and you’re not even there to soak in the glory, to bask in the moment.”

  “I’m exactly where I want to be.”

  “Jaime.”

  “As long as you tell me that I’m where you want me to be. This is all for nothing if you don’t want me, Charlotte. I have literally changed the laws in our country so I can have you, and make no mistakes—I’ll take you on whatever terms you have.”

  “You still want me? Even after…”

  Unable to wait another second, I jumped the fucking couch like a madman, landing on the other side next to her. She gasped but didn’t move away. I pulled her to me until we touched from hip to chest. Then I raised her chin with my finger so I could meet her eyes.

  “I will always want you. It doesn’t matter how much time passes, or if the world stops turning. My want of you—my need for you—will never change. It hasn’t since we were kids, and I know it never will.”

  “And all the other girls?”

  “There have been no other girls since I even dreamed there was a chance that I could have you, and there will never be any other woman but you. Ever.”

  Lowering my mouth slowly, I gave her every chance to push me away, but she didn’t. Our mouths met in a gentle brush of lips, a sweet, tender kiss that was more symbolic than physical.

  “Just please, Charlotte. Be with me. We have time now. Time to date, to figure out what you want, what I want, what we want together. There’s no shotgun wedding from Parliament. It’s all our choice now.”

  “I have a job now,” she blurted out. “I agreed to chair for the Foundation of Women’s Progression. I don’t want to let them down; it’s my first job offer ever.”

  “Okay, they have offices in Rhyston. You can work from there if you want. If you don’t, then we’ll do long distance.”

  She looked at me like she’d never seen me before. “You would do that for me? Let me work? Do long distance?”

  “Let?” I laughed. “Charlotte, you are a force of nature. I can’t remember the last time someone let you do something. If you want to work, work. If you want to stay here, then I will make it work. I will literally take any part of you that you’re willing to give. And if one day you want to marry me—” Please, please, please marry me. “Then you can choose to take on duties as Queen, or you can ask my sisters to help out. I want you in my bed, my heart, my life. I don’t care if you invite the Queen of England to tea or not. I don’t want you for what you’ve been raised to be. I love you for who you are.”

  “You love me?”

  For such a confident woman, she looked so delicate, so unsure.

  I kissed her lightly.

  “I have loved you since childhood, and I will love you until time doesn’t exist. And you love me, too, so stop arguing and just agree for once.”

  “Oh, I love you?” Her eyebrow rose.

  “You do,” I said, a sense of certainty filling me. “You have loved me since the summer you turned thirteen, and I watched you read. You may have locked it away for a few years, but it never died, did it?” My eyes begged when my words couldn’t. I needed the words, needed her to admit that she wanted me just as badly, loved me just as much.

  “It never died,” she admitted, looping her arms around my neck.

  “You love me,” I told her, finding the small of her back with my hands.

  “I love you, Jameson.”

  I nearly sagged in relief, my forehead resting against hers.

  “Say it again.”

  “I. Love. You.” She brushed her lips against mine with every word.

  “And maybe one day you might marry me? Maybe? I don’t need an answer right now, but just the chance that you might one day you might take my name? Or don’t take my name. I don’t give a fuck.”

  She laughed. “You really want to marry me? Without being obligated to?”

  I brushed my thumbs over
the lines of her cheekbones. “I have no obligation, or legal reason to marry you. I just want to. I want you bound to me in every way possible, and I want to be yours in the same ways. I want you to have the legal protection of my name, and the physical enjoyment of my body,” I said with a smirk.

  “Are you saying you won’t have sex with me if we’re not married?” she opened her mouth in mock shock.

  “I wish I had that much willpower, but no. I’ll strip you naked and fuck you on this couch if you’ll let me.”

  A shiver went down her spine, and she bit her lip.

  Fuck, now I was hard, thinking about the last time I’d had her under me, those thighs wrapped around my hips. Or above me, with her hair spilling around us, her cries echoing off the walls.

  “I guess it’s good that I have enough willpower,” she said with a smile.

  “I’m sorry?” Was she seriously going to cut off our physical connection? I’d wait years, hell decades, or until my cock fell off if it meant I got to have her, but I was going to have to do some serious investment in ice packs for the blue balls I’d constantly have.

  “I think we should hold off on having sex until we’re married.” She trailed her finger down my chest. “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t decide if I’m fucking overjoyed that you might marry me one day, or horrified by the years of celibacy I have in front of me.”

  Her smile was breathtaking. “Years, huh? I was thinking a little sooner.”

  My heart leaped into my throat. “Sooner.”

  “Well, we do have a church reserved, and an entire reception planned.”

  Oh shit. Maybe. Don’t get your hopes up.

  “And a minister,” I offered.

  “True. And all those people invited.”

  “Fuck the people. You, me, our parents, our siblings. That’s all I need.”

  She stood there, her heart in her eyes, and I lost my breath.

  “Charlotte, I’m trying not to get my hopes up, but what exactly are you saying?’

  “Nothing until you ask,” she laughed.

  This is it!

  I dropped to one knee, yanking the small velvet box out of my jacket pocket that I’d brought on the tiniest chance that a dream of this was possible. Gently, I opened the lid and held it out to her, but she didn’t look at the gem, keeping those eyes locked on me.

  “Charlotte Eleanor Carlisle, I have loved you all my life, and nothing would make me happier than getting to love you the rest of it. No crowns, no titles, just you and me. What do you say? Will you do me the highest honor of being my wife?”

  She nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek.

  “You have to say it, Charlie, because I’m pretty sure I’m dreaming.”

  She dropped down to her knees and kissed me. “Yes. Yes, Jaime. Yes.”

  “Thank you, God,” I said before kissing the breath out of her. Our tongues tangled, and the sweetest high didn’t come from the touch of our mouths, but the knowledge that I’d get to kiss her for the rest of my life.

  “You’re going to be my wife,” I said incredulously as I slipped the ring on her left hand. It was an emerald solitaire, the very same shade as her eyes. I’d purposely chosen a new gem, nothing from the royal safe. This was only ours, just like our love.

  “I’m going to be your wife,” she agreed. “And I’ll do you one better. I’ll be your Queen.”

  This kiss wasn’t tame, or sweet. I kissed her until her hands tightened in my hair, until her breasts were crushed against my chest and her tongue was sucked into my mouth.

  Then she pushed back with a laugh.

  “Charlie,” I groaned.

  “I wasn’t kidding. No sex until the wedding night.”

  I’d never been so thankful that this was the shortest engagement in the history of royal engagements. One week and she’d be mine.

  Because I’d always been hers.

  Charlotte

  Butterflies flapped chaotically in my tummy, reminding me so much of those times when I was a girl, anxious and desperate to see Jaime.

  Only now, after everything we’d been through, after Xander and the girls and Parliament and the distance, now…we were finally here. Finally ready to take the last step, one that would bind us together…forever.

  I smoothed my hands over the dress of my dreams—it was like I’d fallen into the fairytale I’d fantasized about as a child. White silk and lace and yards of luscious fabric that trailed behind me as I clicked toward the giant double doors that concealed the ballroom. My stepfather, clad in an all black-tux, kept my arm steady as I figured out how to walk in the weight of the dress.

  My mother had clasped a sapphire necklace on me before hurrying to sit with the Queen, who’d flown back from America for the occasion. She hadn’t been surprised when Jaime and I had told her our decision, and a part of me was beyond grateful for our history. The Queen and I had always gotten along well, and I was overjoyed that she was happy for us.

  Music filtered through the cracks in the closed doors, two staff members dressed in simple yet elegant suits waiting for me to give them the signal to open the door. My heart raced against my chest, the blood rushing in my ears, threatening to drown out the gorgeous violins calling me toward my future. Toward the only man I’d ever loved.

  Sophie stood just outside the doors, looking stunning in her gorgeous gown of blue, her hair up off her shoulders. “You’re beautiful,” she said, filling the silence as everyone continued to wait for me to give the signal.

  “Thank you,” I said, wishing for a moment that I could hug her one more time before we entered, but the fairytale dress was incredibly heavy and hard to manage. “You’re the image of perfection.” I beamed at her. “The best maid of honor anyone could hope for.”

  She grinned. “I’m so glad you’re officially going to be my sister.”

  I held back the tears threatening to ruin the simple yet eye-popping mascara Georgia had insisted I wear today.

  “Darling?” My stepfather asked, gazing down at me after I’d stood frozen for a few moments longer.

  One nod of my head and everything would change.

  I’d become the Queen of Elleston, the role I’d been raised to assume.

  I’d officially be a Wyndham like I had planned for so many years of my life.

  And while I was thrilled about the changes I knew we could make as King and Queen, I was more excited about Jaime.

  About making him mine, and me his.

  The rush that filtered through my blood at the thought of being tied to him for life fueled the slight nod of my head toward the staff members, and they swung the open doors.

  Sophie gracefully swept into the room ahead of us, and as I saw her reach the center of the aisle, I took the step I’d wanted to take my entire life. The one toward him.

  Hundreds of Elleston’s finest lined the rows of pews that had been brought in special for this occasion, all made of solid mahogany, my favorite. The guests each rose as I clicked inside the room, my stepfather holding me steady as the long train gracefully trailed behind me.

  The thin veil over my head didn’t hinder the impact of the grand ballroom which was decorated beyond compare. Gardenias kissed every available surface—petals on the marble floor, bunches tied with white lace at the end of each pew, hundreds lining the walls in swooping cascades—all leading me toward the breathtaking man…King…awaiting me at the end of the aisle.

  Jaime…he was earth-shattering. There was no other way to describe how he looked in his tux, the way the fabric cut to his body. The smile on his face made my heart double in size, but the primal look churning in his eyes made my skin heat beneath my dress.

  Sophie had taken her proper place next to Brie, across from him. Xander stood behind him. He looked handsome in his suit, too, but nothing could compare to Jaime. To the way his hair was the perfect combination of wild and tame, just like him.

  I wanted to sprint the last three steps to him, but with cameras flashing a
nd too many eyes to count watching, I kept hold of that calm demeanor I’d been raised to control. It was much harder than I’d experienced. I wanted to bounce up and down with the bubbles that were flowing through my veins like champagne. I never knew I could be this happy. Never knew I would be allowed this secret dream—to have him and be the woman I’d always wanted.

  It was almost too perfect as I finally made my mark, handing off my bouquet of gardenias to Sophie before facing Jaime. The second he slipped his hands over mine, those tears I’d held back made my eyes glitter. He flashed me that signature Jameson smirk, the one that had the power to make my knees weak, and I gripped him a little tighter.

  The priest motioned for the guests to sit, and then launched into the longest ceremony in the world. I loved every word of it—I always had loved the traditional words at Elleston’s royal weddings—but I was ready to be with my husband.

  Alone.

  Another burst of heat shot up my spine and I, once again, wondered how I’d gotten so lucky to own the heart of a man like Jaime.

  “You may now kiss your bride,” the priest said, and a breath of relief rushed through me so fast I thought I might faint.

  Jaime lifted my veil, his own eyes glittering and churning and speaking volumes to me without ever opening his mouth. He inched his lips toward mine, the pressure behind the kiss much too light and much too tame for what I knew him capable of, but with all the eyes on us, it was the perfect kiss to seal our marriage.

  Xander whooped behind Jaime, whistling and clapping him on the back as we turned to face the crowd as man and wife. The queen and Sophie and Brie all clapped, and I smiled at them all, wishing so hard that Willa could’ve been here to see this. A pressing deadline and the first trimester kept her back in America. I would fly to her soon because the woman deserved the most epic of thank yous ever. If she hadn’t taken Xander in during that snowstorm in New York, none of this would’ve been possible.

  The thought at how differently my life would look if she hadn’t threatened to rob me of the bliss currently curling around me as Jaime led me down the aisle, so I forced the thoughts away. None of that mattered now. What mattered was I was now Mrs. Jameson Wyndham. And he was mine.