Jilted Groom (Romance Novel)

by Mia Carson

  Chapter 8

  The moon was still out in the sky, but Matt was in no hurry to leave Princess Daphne’s bed. He lay on his stomach, his eyes closed, and for once in his few years out of the military, he was completely and utterly content. His mind was at ease, and his body… Well, most of it was relaxed.

  With a naked Daphne straddling his waist while her delicate fingers traced the outline of his tattoo, it was hard for every piece of him to be relaxed. His erection pressed into the bed, but he didn’t move to take her again. Her touch was soothing. Every place where her skin pressed into his was on fire with the hunger coursing through his body, and at the same time, she brought the strangest sense of calm over him.

  “Was I right?” she asked quietly as her hand flattened between his shoulder blades.

  “About what?” he replied roughly, his eyes fluttering open so he could glance over his shoulder at her.

  “The skull on your back, it’s you. And the flames… They’re your rage, maybe?” She moved her hands up around his shoulders then back down and wrapped them around his sides. His muscles flinched beneath her touch, and his hands bunched beneath the pillow, his jaw clenched. “Roll over.” He raised his brow at the demanding tone in her voice, and she grinned. “I want to see the rest of it,” she insisted.

  Matt obliged, and she moved off him so he could turn over onto his back. The sight of her nipples hardening so quickly under his gaze caused him to swell even faster. Daphne’s breath quickened, her eyes closing in on him and his want for her. She cleared her throat and dragged the dark blue gaze up to his sides to look at the rest of the tattoo.

  “What are these?” she asked, her voice hoarse. She pointed to the ashes dripping from the end of the flames. When he didn’t answer right away and his hands stiffened at his sides, she reached out and took them both in hers. “You don’t have to tell me everything if you don’t want to.”

  “I do,” he said softly and thought, That’s what scares the hell out of me. He moved his hands so they held hers securely. He licked his lips, stunned that even though he thought of all those he’d killed, his hands didn’t twitch and his gut didn’t clench painfully in regret. “How do you do this to me?”

  “Do what?”

  He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close enough to kiss those damn soft lips he couldn’t get enough of. “You silence my inner demons, Daphne. My mind hasn’t been this quiet since I left my sniping days behind.”

  She raised a brow, nipping his lip. “Tell me about it.”

  “I was one of the best. They begged me not to quit when I did, but something inside me snapped,” he grumbled. His eyes searched hers, looking for any hint of fear or unease, but what she showed him was nothing he’d ever had before: trust and a hint of another emotion too soon to contemplate whether it was real or not.

  “Those ashes on your sides, you kept track of all the men you’d killed,” she guessed. Her hand slipped back down to his side, circling them slowly. “Matt, why would you do that?”

  “As a harsh reminder of who I am deep down,” he told her. He removed her from his body gently and sat up stiffly, letting his legs dangle over the side of the bed. His head sank into his hand as images of his last few missions appeared in his mind.

  Pressing his eye to the scope, tracking the target through the streets, and his finger on the trigger. Waiting… waiting…

  “Matt?” Daphne whispered. She slipped her legs around his body, pressing her warmth against his back, and wrapped her arms around him as much as she could. “Don’t hide, not from me.”

  “Can’t help it. Years of practice,” he muttered and reached for her hands.

  “No matter what you did, you didn’t do it without reason,” she insisted. “You kept your team safe. That much I was able to read in your file, and your team respected you—the entire army did. That’s not something to be ashamed of.”

  “Reading up on me?” he said with a chuckle and pulled her around until she straddled his lap. Daphne sucked in a breath when his erection pressed against her. He cursed at the slickness between her legs but controlled himself. “I’m not ashamed of it, but it changed me, and the last thing I want to do is drag you down into that darkness with me.”

  “Isn’t that what you do for the people you care about?” she asked and moved her hand to rest over his beating heart. “This is what matters, Matt, nothing else.”

  His heart swelled within him, and suddenly, the empty void that filled him disappeared as he kissed Daphne fiercely, muttering against her lips, “You’re too damn good for me—and I never admitted to caring.”

  Before she could reply, he lifted her hips and brought her down on his length. She moaned and quivered against him as she moved her hips, riding him hard and slow. Matt slipped his hand between them. His thumb found her swollen clit and massaged it in time with her movements while his tongue reflected the rhythm she kept while she writhed in his lap. Matt never wanted to let her go. Daphne was his balm, the one person in his life who pushed back the darkness and let him catch glimpses of the smiling man he was once upon a time.

  She was his breath, his heartbeat, and as they made love in the light of the moon, Matt lost every bit of sense he ever thought he had.

  When she couldn’t move anymore, so close to the edge, Matt picked her up and pressed her against the nearest wall, driving back into her fiercely. As he claimed her, a nagging voice of fear and doubt echoed in his mind. You’ll lose her, it whispered mockingly. You’ll drag her down with you into darkness. She’s so close to breaking herself. What the hell good do you think you’ll do her, a princess?

  Motivated by fear and needing to drown out the doubts with her cries, Matt pushed them both over the edge into blissful oblivion, his mouth swallowing her cries as she clenched him inside her warm depths. He filled her until there was nothing left and carefully carried her back to the bed, falling in beside her.

  Daphne’s eyes closed as she grinned. “I could sleep for a week,” she murmured and stretched before curling up into his chest.

  “Wish we both could,” he admitted. “Get some rest, Daphne. You deserve it.”

  It didn’t take a sniper to see the tell-tale signs of someone at the end of their rope, exhausted and more than ready to snap. Bags were visible under her eyes and stress lines formed at her temples and mouth. In another life, maybe he could’ve found a way to take her away from the life she had been born into, but he feared he would only add to her already heavy burden.

  Her breathing steadied, and a moment later, she was sound asleep.

  “If only it were that easy,” he whispered to her and kissed her forehead. “Why couldn’t you have just been Daphne and not a damn princess?”

  ***

  Daphne walked down the corridor, struggling to keep the smile from her face and the laughter escaping her lips after last night spent in Matt’s arms. He hadn’t been there when she woke, but a flower had been on the pillow instead. Other than parts of her body she didn’t even realize existed being sore, last night was the best of her life, and in the morning light, his rough words came back to her.

  He didn’t want just a one night stand. Immediately, her nerves were on edge, thinking of him back in her bed and in her arms. All her worries fell away in the dark hours of the night, and she had slept better than she had in months.

  Jeremiah smirked beside her, and she shot him a look. “Something on your mind, Jeremiah?” she asked. Today was Matt’s day off, and he was, apparently, still passed out in his room.

  “Nothing, princess, nothing at all,” he mused. “Nice to see you looking so happy.”

  “Am I not normally happy?” she pressed.

  He nodded. “Yes, but today it’s different, that’s all.”

  She eyed him closely and halted. Last night, when she and Matt had snuck back into the palace, he said they had a friend watching out for them. Jeremiah had seen them touching yesterday evening, too. “You know?” she asked on a whisper, glancing qui
ckly up and down the hall, but they were alone.

  Jeremiah raised a brow. “Know what, princess?” Her mouth dropped open, but she quickly shut it when he winked and leaned close. “Your secret is safe with me, I swear it,” he told her sincerely after pulling out his com. “Frankly, it’s about damn time you found someone to make you happy.”’

  “You told no one? Not even your sister?” Daphne asked about Marie, Jeremiah’s twin sister.

  “She said you told her enough to give her an idea of what was going on,” he said with a shrug. “Asking for Matt’s file—dead giveaway you thought of him more than just your bodyguard, my lady.”

  “I can never thank you both enough,” she said and gripped his arm. Worry filled her as she stepped away. “But I’m not sure where this can go, and now I have to confront the king and queen about why they let our kingdom think I’m a useless, depressed shut-in.”

  She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and continued down the corridor towards her father’s study. They had summoned her to discuss other matters before they left on their trip, but she was going to call them out on what they had done. If she was to take over for them, the people needed to know the truth. They had a princess whose sole duty was to her people and their welfare. Dion was a liability until they reached the end of their investigation into him and his business. But unless the kingdom knew who Daphne had grown into, they would turn to him as a fit ruler when the time came. Her parents had started a dangerous game, and she wondered if they even realized what they’d done.

  When Daphne reached the study doors, Jeremiah knocked and announced her. She glanced at the two bodyguards outside the door, but they didn’t meet her eyes. She frowned, but Jeremiah opened the door and she walked inside.

  “There she is,” Calix said and stood from behind his desk.

  Jeremiah closed the study door, and Daphne took a deep breath to steady her nerves. “Morning Dad, Mom.”

  Calix and Alexandria each took a hand, guiding her to the couch. “You look well this morning—doesn’t she look well?” Alexandria said to her husband.

  Daphne glanced from one to the other, and all the courage she’d built up to confront them vanished at the look in their eyes. “What’s going on? What did you two do?”

  “Listen, sweetie,” Alexandria said, “since you’re now twenty-one, we’ve decided it’s time to tell you what you have to look forward to. We plan on handing over the throne sooner rather than later, but before we can, there are conditions that must be met.”

  “Like what, exactly? How soon are you planning on stepping down?” she asked quickly, worry causing her to tug on her ear until her mom gripped her wrist and pulled her hand away. She shot her mom a look, and Alexandria blanched until Daphne managed to lower her eyes and look apologetic. There were things they needed to discuss that were more pertinent—like dealing with Agnes and Dion.

  Calix cleared his throat and clasped his hands behind his back. “Now then, we have contacted several young men, all who are eager to meet you in the coming weeks.”

  “Coming weeks? You’re setting me up to be married?!” she shrieked and jumped to her feet. That was it, the last straw, and it broke her completely. “And what am I supposed to do with these men?” She paced around the couch, running her hands through her hair.

  “You will need to choose one who will make a suitable king,” Calix said sharply. “It is your duty to marry within six months of the betrothal, just as we did, and produce an heir soon after.”

  Daphne barked a laugh. “No, you can’t make me do this!”

  Alexandria sighed. “Now really, Daphne. It is the law of our kingdom. You know this. You’ve known the law for years. This should not come as a surprise to you.”

  Hands clenching and unclenching painfully at her sides, she asked if there was anything else she needed to know. They exchanged a quick glance and her mom nodded slowly.

  “Until such time as you are wed and produce an heir, you will remain as you have—inside the palace walls and in the care of us and our household,” Alexandria told her firmly. “We do not wish to see you come to any harm until we’re certain you’ll be able to take over successfully and lead as we have taught you.”

  “And what am I to do during this time?” Daphne bit out.

  Calix marched towards her. “You, young lady, will continue as you have, striving towards your reforms, working with parliament, and doing what a princess has been instructed to do for the betterment of her people and kingdom.”

  “If Marietta hadn’t died, would you do this to me?” she whispered harshly. “Would you keep me a damn prisoner in my own home?”

  “How dare you?” Alexandria gasped. “How dare you drag your dead sister into this?”

  “She’s part of it, isn’t she? It’s all her fault… Why you did this to me. You think you’re keeping me safe, but all you’re doing is showing the people that I’m nothing more than a worthless princess who won’t be able to rule on her own,” Daphne argued as anger flooded her.

  Calix and Alexandria seemed completely taken aback by her reaction, and for a second, Daphne thought there was a chance they would finally see sense, but her dad stepped forward and gripped her shoulders hard.

  “You will do as we tell you. End of discussion,” he ordered. “When we return, I expect you to have straightened out your attitude and accepted your full responsibilities.” He released her.

  Daphne’s eyes burned with unshed tears. The last time she’d been scolded was when she was twelve and had snuck out of her room to watch a ball, but even then, her dad had never looked at her with such disappointment. She bowed her head and stepped back for the door. Quietly, she wished them a good trip and hurried out before she let the flood of emotions overwhelm her.

  She rushed down the corridor, not caring if Jeremiah kept up with her. Before, her world always seemed to shrink in around her, but now… Now she knew there was no escaping it, no matter what she did.

  Her feet moved without thought, and she found herself out in the courtyard disappearing into a high-hedged garden with stone archways marking the paths. Once inside, Jeremiah remained at the only entrance, and Daphne thanked him quietly before moving deeper in. There was no place she could go, nothing she could do. If she abdicated from the throne, it would fall into the hands of Dion and Agnes, and if she didn’t do as her parents instructed, she would fail their family and her cousin would still take over.

  Daphne reached the edge of the garden where it hit the cliffs and leaned on the railing looking out over the clear blue waters of the Mediterranean. One horrible event changed everything. If Marietta hadn’t died, she would be in line for the throne and the king and queen would not be so strict in their decisions. Daphne had never wanted this.

  Now that she found Matt, all she wanted was to find a way to be with him, but he was her bodyguard. What they discovered last night could never go any further, and the little bit of peace she found last night in his arms vanished, blowing away on the late morning breeze.

  ***

  Matt weaved through shipping containers down at the docks, keeping a careful eye out for anyone he might stumble upon. It was his day off, but after his talk with Ambrose, Matt had decided to take it upon himself to do a little side investigation of his own and see if he couldn’t find out what Dion was really up to. His arm brushed against the holster visible at his side. If he did run into anyone, his story was simple enough: He was checking the area for when Daphne made her visit to the docks at the end of the week. That there was no visit actually taking place was something Dion and the others didn’t need to know.

  Matt had a hard time focusing on his surroundings. After Daphne fell asleep, he crept quietly from her room and hurried back to his before anyone discovered him in the princess’ bedroom. Last night was more than he had expected to find in the arms of that woman, but this morning, in the harsh light of day, his thoughts were torn and the mocking voice was louder than ever in his mind.

 
He wanted to believe that they could have something together. Or that in the end, he could whisk her away and pretend she wasn’t a princess and he wasn’t carrying around this darkness inside. What good would he really do her? She gave him back his control, but could he continue to use her like that, knowing he might never be the man she deserved? At the end of the day, he was still the killer, still the man who took his job and his missions seriously. Getting involved like this had been a mistake. He put her life at risk by getting so attached.

  Matt reached the end of the next row of shipping crates and stopped, his boots scraping on the concrete. He couldn’t do this to her. When he returned to the palace, he’d put an end to it. It might destroy him and he’d probably have to leave his job, but if it kept her safe, that was what mattered. He might have had the reputation of a womanizer, but he would not bring down an innocent woman he cared for far too much.

  Voices up ahead distracted him from his darkening thoughts, and he pressed his back against the nearest crate, his hand snaking up to his gun. It was a man and woman, and as they grew closer, he recognized them both.

  “She refused to listen to me,” Agnes snapped loudly. “Your cousin doesn’t seem to trust you or me anymore. What did you say to her?”

  “Nothing worse than what you did, I’m sure,” Dion shot back. “It doesn’t matter, anyway.”

  “The hell it doesn’t. If you can’t get these allegations dropped, the people will grow suspicious of you,” Agnes argued, and Matt shifted when their steps moved closer to his hiding place.

  There was a long silence, and Matt peered around the crate. They were standing barely ten feet away from him. He pulled his head back quickly and cursed silently. He was stuck until they moved away again.