by Riley Pine
My prince.
His lips are strong and fierce against mine. Each sweep of his tongue is a taste sweeter than any confection and richer than the royal coffers.
The pressure builds, and his momentum picks up. My muscles throb around him as I feel him pulse inside me. So close. He’s so close. But I know he’s waiting for me.
And because he knows me like no man ever has, he knows what is necessary to send me over the edge.
He slips a hand between us, at the place where two bodies become one, and presses his thumb to my swollen clit. I cry out again and again and again.
He roars as he tumbles off the cliff with me, shuddering above me until we both shatter into a million pieces.
He opens his eyes and traps me in his steel gaze.
“My queen,” he says before collapsing beside me.
I stroke his sweat-dampened hair as he peppers my shoulder with kisses so achingly tender. I try not to take his words to heart. What we have is only temporary, until I find him a proper bride.
He combs my hair out of my face, his fingers grazing my chin. “My beautiful, fiery winter queen,” he says, and I start to wish those words to be truth, though I know full well they never could be. Even if he would marry, a commoner like me could never be in the running.
“Your what?” I hear, and gasp when I see a figure looming over us where we lie.
Nikolai turns his head lazily toward our intruder.
“Fucking hell, Christian,” he says with nothing more than mild annoyance in his words. “How in God’s name did you get in here? And do you ever bloody knock?”
The man steps closer, a muscle ticking in his chiseled jaw. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t lay you out like the bloody prick you are. Royal law or not, you know I can fucking do it, and it looks like your shadow isn’t here to stop me.”
I suck in a breath. Am I about to witness a royal brawl? Or worse—get caught in the middle of it? Regardless of my ability to do so or not, a fierce urge to protect my prince takes hold.
“Who are you?” I ask, but the man ignores me, his gaze still fixed on His Royal Highness.
Nikolai sits up, not at all concerned that he’s conducting this conversation completely naked. In fact, he uses his other hand to free his princely cock from its condom.
“Come now, Christian. Answer the lady’s question as you know I’m too bored to keep answering yours.”
The man clenches his teeth. “Lady?” he says. “I’ll do no such thing. But you can bloody tell me why you called this commoner queen.”
Nikolai glances back at me and winks, and with that tiny gesture the intimacy of our connection falls away.
He laughs. “If you’d been given the royal treatment like I had, you’d bow to the woman who performed such a deed and call her your sovereign, as well.”
I know this act. Something about this man—this Christian—instills a quiet fear in the prince, one that causes him to protect our connection. To protect me.
“I’m hungry, Your Highness. Can I fix you a snack?”
I slide off the edge of the bed, taking the sheet with me as a robe as I brush past our visitor.
“That would be lovely, Pet.”
I grin at the term of endearment as I make my way to the kitchen. Only when I’m out of the room do the pieces start to click in place.
I know that man. Christian. Christian Wurtzer.
He is the Baron of Rosegate, the disputed land between Edenvale and our ancient enemies to the north, the Kingdom of Nightgardin. For now Rosegate is under King Nikolai’s protection and rule. I squeeze my eyes shut, remembering that the baron also has a supermodel sister. Her face has been splashed across the tabloids almost as much as Nikolai’s. Sometimes together. Whatever his visit entails, it cannot be good.
And despite what just occurred in Nikolai’s room before our interruption, it’s only now that I feel royally screwed.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Nikolai
“JESUS.” CHRISTIAN PACES my room, disgust marring his features. I find a pair of trousers and yank them on. “I’m a fucking idiot. How much time have I wasted worrying that I’d been an overhasty judge, that maybe my little sister, as shallow and conniving as she is, and as depraved and arrogant as you are, had made an unexpected love match?”
He tears a hand through his clipped blond hair. “Instead you’re up to your usual tricks, except now you’re bedding women in the prince’s wing. So much for all your high-minded talk about keeping your chamber as a sanctuary. Now any gold-digging sex kitten can—”
He ceases speaking. Mostly because my hand closes on his throat and squeezes. X once told me he could break a man’s neck with a simple flick of the wrist. Good thing he refused to share the trick because, so help me, I would use it against my old friend for besmirching what happened between Kate and me in this room tonight. Our lovemaking was by turns savage and sensual, raw and romantic, two sides of a single emotion, one that hums through me like liquid gold.
I don’t dare give it an official name. I don’t even think too hard on the word’s existence because it feels so fragile, like a soap bubble that could pop in a brisk wind.
Christian’s feet kick at the empty air because even as my feelings toward Kate beckon from a place of light, darkness still owns my soul. And my friend dares to condescend an amazing woman such as she.
“Please,” he wheezes, hands clawing uselessly at my strength. “Nikolai.” He may be skilled in a boxing ring, but I have undiluted fury on my side.
“I don’t need a goddamn bodyguard to deal with you, Baron. I could break your neck as easily as I could break the alliance with Rosegate,” I grind out. “How many hours would it take for Nightgardin to invade if I call off our military protection?”
There is the sound of wood sliding along a groove. Then a warning hand on my shoulder. “Put him down,” X’s quietly authoritative voice insists.
“Thought I told you to quit using secret passages,” I say, releasing Christian and letting him tumble to the floor, gasping for oxygen.
X shakes with noiseless laughter. He doesn’t so much as smile, but I know he is amused.
“Don’t you get claustrophobic in there?” I ask. The palace is riddled with secret chambers, a veritable rabbit warren within the walls. X seems to liken them to his own personal sanctum.
“After the month I spent as a prisoner in the Russian nuclear sub in the Arctic Sea, the passages here are as roomy as a Versailles ballroom, Your Highness.”
“Jesus. Who are you?” I ask him, and not for the first time. I’m never entirely sure if the guy is joking.
“What are you going to do with him?” Per usual, X evades my question to gesture at Christian, who now pushes himself to standing.
“He disrespected Kate,” I snap.
Christian stares at me, eyes wide. “Your face, when you say her name. You feel something for this woman. Don’t you? I never thought it possible.”
“I don’t owe you—or anyone, for that matter—any explanations,” I remind him. I might sound arrogant as hell, but I never denied that I am a royal prick.
“Your Highness,” he says, bowing his head. “I apologize for barging in on you. And for assuming the worst. I actually came to warn you about Catriona, in the vain hope that you and she had forged a connection. After you didn’t call, it appears she has gone sour. She had delusions of herself on the Edenvale throne. And I thought that if there was any chance you did feel something for her... But I know the truth, that Catriona is only capable of loving herself. Still, she is my sister. When I saw you with—”
“Kate,” I say, before he calls her a commoner again and I do rip his throat out.
“Of course,” he says. “Kate. I just wasn’t expecting you felt something for another.”
“Thank you,” I say curtly. I am not
yet ready to forgive, but I appreciate the warning.
I don’t have time for Catriona’s petty scheming. What I said to Kate tonight was the truth.
She is my addiction; I can’t stay away. Every kiss, every caress, every damn moment in her presence hits my body like a drug. I can’t seem to get enough and crave fix after fix. It’s not that I want her so much as I need her. There must be a way to make her my queen and keep my royal inheritance.
Kate
I open the stainless-steel refrigerator in Nikolai’s kitchen to find nothing but a bowl of strawberries that look freshly cut.
“They go perfectly with the champagne.”
I yelp and almost lose my sheet—the only thing covering my naked body—to find X using a pocket square to clean what looks like berry juice—or possibly blood—from a small knife. I opt to believe it is the former. When he’s done, he slips the knife into a sheath inside his suit jacket.
“How did you...? I mean, where did you...?” I glance toward an open window near the grand piano across the great room, but X shakes his head.
“Not tonight, Miss. My travels are within the walls this evening rather than without.”
I shake my own head and decide not to press the issue. Instead I tuck my sheet tight around me and remove the bowl of berries from the fridge, cradling them against my body. I inhale and sigh.
“How do these smell so good?” I ask, my mouth watering. “I can already taste them.”
X reaches into another coat pocket and hands me my cell phone.
“The reason I left the prince alone with the baron. You seem to have missed a call. Also, my apologies for him interrupting you and His Highness. Save for his brother Benedict, Christian Wurtzer is the only one with unrestricted security clearance to the annex, an oversight that will soon be remedied.” The corner of his mouth twitches into the ghost of a smile. “The strawberries are a gift. I thought you and the prince might need a bit of—sustenance.”
X dips his head in a mild bow and disappears around a corner. I hear the sound of what must be a sliding door on a track and then what I swear is a chuckle coming from within the very walls.
Who is that guy?
The caller identification on my phone steals my attention from the mystery of X. My sister. It’s not even eight o’clock. I know I told Nikolai I don’t have a curfew, but maybe Maddie is worried after all. I ignore her voice mail and move straight to calling her back.
“Oh, Katie, thank God,” she says when she answers.
“I’m okay,” I tell her. “I guess I should have called. I’m with Nikolai and—”
“It’s Grandmother,” she says, and all the air rushes out of my lungs with her utterance of those two words.
“Is she—?”
“She’s still with us,” Maddie says quickly. “But do you remember the cough she had last time I visited? It turns out it was the onset of pneumonia. They started her on medication, but she wasn’t responding. We’re at the Royal Hospital. She’s on a respirator and IV meds. They say she can recover, but, Katie—the money it will cost for all of this. We’re barely making our rent at the moment. Can they not pay you a small advance?”
I swallow back the lump in my throat. “Can we get by for two more months?” I ask.
“If we’re very careful,” she says. “Maybe.” Her voice sounds ready to crack. Poor Maddie. She’s shouldered so much responsibility since our parents died. Too much.
I take a deep breath and back myself into a corner of the kitchen, a feeble attempt at privacy.
“As long as I get Nikolai down the aisle, we get double our fee.”
I hear her gasp. “But what if you don’t?” she asks.
I shake my head. “That won’t matter. He will marry. I’m sure of it.”
Nikolai won’t let the kingdom slip away from his family. As much as he embraces the part of the careless playboy, I know deep down he is a man of duty, which means he will have to choose a bride—one who is fit to rule beside him. There is no one better than me to find his perfect match, even if it’s only perfect on paper.
As much as the thought kills me, I can’t let down my own family. My grandmother was there for me and my sister in our darkest hour. She deserves nothing less from us in kind. To see out her final days in peace and comfort.
“I trust you,” Maddie says.
“I won’t let you down.” I step out of the kitchen and glance toward Nikolai’s room and see our uninvited guest on his way toward me. “I have to go,” I say.
“Okay. I’ll be with Gran all day tomorrow. Only one visitor is allowed at a time. Relieve me in the evening?”
“Of course,” I tell her. “I’ll be there by five. But I won’t be home tonight,” I add. “Love you, Maddie.” And then I end the call before she can question where I am—before the guilt for not being with Gran now can set in. Because I know what happened between Nikolai and me wasn’t just sex.
He called me his queen.
Christian offers me a slight nod as he walks by but says nothing before letting himself out the apartment’s front door.
I pad into Nikolai’s room, strawberries in hand. He sits on the edge of his bed, hair rumpled and jeans on but unbuttoned. He pops the bottle of champagne and fills the two flutes.
“Sorry about that, Pet.” He offers me a glass.
I set the strawberries on the night table and take it willingly. He pulls me onto his lap and then lifts his own glass, tapping the crystal against mine.
“Stay the night,” he says.
I nod, and when I lift my glass to drink, the sheet loosens and falls below my breasts.
“My God, you are beautiful,” he says, and I don’t bother covering myself again.
He sets down his flute and plucks a strawberry from the bowl, bringing it to my lips. I bite, and juice dribbles onto my lips and my chin. Nikolai kisses me, licking my skin clean. I swallow the rest of my champagne in one sip, the bubbles tickling my tongue, and I’m swept away in a giddiness I’ve never felt before.
He lays me out on the bed, unwrapping me from the sheet as if I am a gift.
“I’m yours,” I say. And we make love again, this time achingly yet wonderfully slow, and I know when he buries himself in me again and again that I’m in trouble. Big trouble.
I must help him marry another.
Both of our futures depend on it.
* * *
In the morning I slide out from the crook of his arm. I kiss the inked compass above his heart and silently wish for it to point us both in the right direction.
X is surprisingly absent this morning, so I exit the prince’s quarters as discreetly as possible, leaving him a note that I’ve gone for a walk.
I need to clear my head.
Soon after I leave the secluded wing, I find a chapel on the outskirts of the grounds. Perhaps someone inside can offer guidance when I have no direction of my own.
I enter to find the place empty but for the rows of pews. A few moments of silence will do me good, as well.
When I take a seat in the rear, I bow my head and close my eyes.
So... I’ve never actually done this, I think, rationalizing that if there is some higher power, he or she can hear my thoughts. No need to speak them aloud. But I have loved. It was a good love, but not a great one. I know that now. Because my chest—my body—doesn’t feel like it can contain what I have for Nikolai. But whatever this is will fade. It must. We’ve only known each other for a few short weeks. And he must marry another.
“I’m frightened of what I feel,” I say aloud.
“That which scares us is the most important to face.”
The deep voice comes from behind, and I suck in a breath.
“God?” I ask, afraid to face whoever is chuckling. But I’m being a fool, so I turn.
“Not exactly the risen Lord
, but I like to think we’re close.” A dark-haired man, dressed head to toe in black, stares at me with the loveliest green eyes. He wears the white collar of the seminary.
“Oh! Father!” I stand quickly, bumping my knee on the pew in front of me, and hiss out a curse before covering my mouth. “I’m so sorry,” I say.
The man smiles, and his kind eyes put me at ease. “You should hear some of the phrases that come out of my brother’s mouth when he’s here. I assure you none of them are accidental.”
My eyes widen. It has been quite some time since any photographs of him have shown up in newspapers or magazines, but I recognize him now.
“You’re Prince Benedict,” I say, but he shakes his head.
“I prefer Father Benedict, if that’s okay with you, Miss—”
“Kate,” I say, extending a hand. Though I’m not sure that’s the appropriate gesture. He obliges me nonetheless.
“The matchmaker, I presume?”
I swallow. “How did you know?”
“Come,” he says, nodding toward the exit. “It’s such a beautiful morning. Let us sit in the sun.”
I follow him to a small garden where we settle on a stone bench. He tilts his head toward the sky and closes his eyes, breathing in the morning air.
“Has Nikolai spoken of me?” I ask, ashamed at my boldness, but I don’t have time to beat around the bush.
Benedict folds his hands in his lap and simply nods.
“Do you truly care for my brother, Kate?”
My cheeks grow hot, and tears prick the backs of my eyes. I have not even told Nikolai of my feelings. Caring for him is not allowed. He is destined for another woman.
Benedict smiles again. “Your reaction is answer enough,” he says. “So I will tell you two things. The first is that I love Nikolai, and I will do anything I can to protect him—and anything I can to help him find happiness, something I don’t believe he’s been capable of feeling for quite some time.”
I swipe a finger under my eye, clearing away an escaping tear.
“The second is that if his happiness lies with someone who does not fit the parameters of the Royal Marriage Decree, I will do all that I can to find a way around it if Nikolai is ready to stop playing his games and fight for something real. Do you understand this, Miss Kate?”
