by Violet Paige
I didn’t want to tell him Brooklyn would severely disagree.
“You must have something,” I pressed. “It’s not only Americans. Kings can have goals.”
“I made one happen tonight.”
I tried to think of what we had done that might have given him a sense of accomplishment. “Which was?”
“We’re not locked in separate hotel suites, are we?” I saw the Cheshire cat grin on his face.
“And why is that? Ayla told me not to enter your suite no matter what. She is strict.”
“We’re on international waters. There are ten state rooms on this ship. My crew isn’t going to report anything that happens aboard. It seemed the only way to have you to myself.”
“Is this what happens when we return? We have to sneak to each other’s rooms like we’re in a dorm?”
He laughed. “There is an elaborate tunnel system in the palace.” He paused. “But I’m not using it. You’ll be in my bed.”
The way he said it made me shiver. It was just as possessive and controlling, but I had seen underneath Damon’s hard exterior. I knew there was an emotional side he guarded tirelessly. And for some reason he had peeled back the curtain and given me a glimpse.
“And you think you can pull that off? Upend your family’s history?”
The flicker in his eyes dimmed. “Do you know how I became king?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t.”
“Everyone else in the country knows. You should too.” His voice was smooth.
“It doesn’t sound like it’s going to be a happy story.” I took the refreshing champagne.
“There are two ways you can become the head of the monarchy in Galona: your predecessor steps down and hands the crown to you, or the crown is vacated.” He paused. “In my case, it was vacated. My father died.”
“I’m sorry, Damon.” I wanted to pull him into a hug, but I knew it was important to listen. I stayed put.
“It was supposed to happen eventually. I knew it. But I didn’t envision the weight of the country of my back before I turned thirty. But I’m thirty-two and I’ve ruled for five years. I assumed I’d take over on my father’s death bed, when he was well into his eighties or even nineties. I’d be an old man myself by then. Not a young king. Not a man who wanted freedom. To be honest, I loved being a captain in the Royal Navy.
“It took me a while to stop blaming him. To stop cursing my father for what he did to my life, by dying young. By leaving my mother and the rest of us.”
My heart twisted with his pain.
“What did you do? How did you cope with the responsibility and grief?”
“I governed,” he answered flatly. “Meanwhile, my father’s advisors surrounded me. Sutcliffe, he’s left over from the old days. I’ve replaced most of them. Kenley and Ayla are new additions. They suit my style better.”
I wondered if it also helped that they were smart beautiful women who had a way of spinning negative situations into positive ones.
“I didn’t realize your mother was still living.”
“She left the Freychon palace after he died. She lives on the coast in one of the summer homes. She converted it into a residence meant for a dowager queen. She wanted to be out of the spotlight. No one blamed her.”
“Do you see her often?”
He shook his head. “Isabel visits the most. Dominic is too engrossed in his own problems. The rest of us have heavy schedules.”
I was sad for her. Sad for all of them. It seemed as if Damon’s father’s death had a rippling effect on the security of the family.
“Maybe I’ll plan a trip after I get through the next round of cabinet votes.”
I nodded. Mothers liked that kind of thing. I knew mine did. She worried if I didn’t call every week. She loved getting cards and small things I could send home. Video calls were our lifeline to each other.
“What happened to your father? Is it ok if I ask?” It seemed like a crucial piece to the puzzle. “Am I prying? I am. Aren’t I?”
“Molly, you can ask. I brought it up. The cause of death was inconclusive. My mother swears it was the stress of running the country.”
“No one knows?”
He shook his head. “He dropped dead after a morning swim in the pool. He was rushed to the hospital, but they were never able to revive him.”
“Oh my God, that’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you. It was the worst day of my life, but the day that has defined me as a man.”
“And that’s how you became king?”
“It is. I was sworn in that afternoon and coronated a month later. I started running the country at twenty-seven and didn’t have a fucking clue what I was doing.”
“Galona is an incredible country, Damon. Your family must be proud. The circumstances that led to your ascension make it even more impressive.” I was awed by him. I was twenty-seven and didn’t know the first thing about running a country. What would I have done in his position? Could Isabel have ruled the same way? What about his other brothers?
He waved me off. “My reign has been about finding a balance between the antiquated way my father did things and the reality of living in a modern society. I’m done with royal shackles. If I want my girlfriend to move in, she should be able to move in. I don’t care about Sutcliffe’s list of rules. That’s the part of the crown I despise.”
“So I’m a political statement against the old ways and customs?”
“In some ways, yes. You are. And even that pisses me off.”
“But on the ship, we can do whatever we want? No rules. No politics.”
He nodded. “Everything we want.”
“Can we go back to the room?” I asked.
“I’ll have them bring us dessert.”
I smiled as he led me away from the table. “But you had your dessert before dinner.”
He chuckled. “I think I’m going to have some more.”
Twenty-Seven
Damon
I squeezed Molly’s hand when we drove through the palace tunnel. I didn’t know what was in store for us, but I was determined not to let her slip away because of tradition. A modern monarchy was essential now more than ever.
“I can’t believe this is where I’m going to live.” She looked up at the towers surrounding us.
The car slowed. Georgan parked just outside the entrance.
“It is.”
As soon as we were inside the palace, Sutcliffe met us in the foyer.
“Your Majesty.” He bowed.
“I’m headed to the residence to change. We can meet in a few minutes,” I explained.
“The royal study, sir?”
“That will be fine.” I tugged Molly along behind me into the elevators.
“He didn’t look happy.” She turned to me.
I shook my head. “He never is. Part of his job I’m afraid. I give him problems and he has to provide solutions.” I brushed the hair from her shoulder. “I thought about the meeting on the flight home and I’d like for you to attend.”
Her eyes widened. The bits of blue swirled with confusion. “The meeting with Sutcliffe? Right now?”
“Yes. Whatever the plan is, you’re a part of it. You should hear what he has to say. Ayla will of course instruct you through the details once we have those, but I’d like you to be there. It’s your meeting too.”
There was a moment last night when I thought I had lost her. When I thought I had fucked up beyond repair. It wouldn’t happen again.
“All right. I’d love to be there.” She smiled. “And you don’t think Sutcliffe will mind?”
I laughed. “Of course he’ll mind. He’ll hate the whole fucking concept.”
The elevator dinged, but before we stepped into the residence I pushed her against the wall, taking her lips against mine. It was like our first kiss, but without the hesitation Molly clung to before. Last night something changed. And we both knew it.
She wrapped her arms around my neck,
purring as my tongue twisted in her mouth. If she kept kissing me like this we might be late for the meeting.
“Fuck, I’m hard, love.”
Her hands snaked over my body, reaching my cock. “Maybe I can help.”
She lowered to her knees, dragging my zipper as she knelt on the floor.
“Molly,” I groaned. But she freed my cock and I wasn’t stopping her now. I pulled the park lever on the elevator so we couldn’t move.
My palm pressed into the wall while the other caressed the back of her head.
She looked up at me as her tongue darted over the crown, licking the glistening dew of want I had for her.
I knew it intimidated her, but I gave the girl credit for accepting the challenge. She started with small swallows, letting me fuck her gently until I couldn’t contain what I wanted. My cock buried in her mouth.
The corners of her eyes misted with tears, but she didn’t let up. Sucking. Licking. Bobbing her head until I was deep in her throat. Her hand tugged my balls and it was over. I pumped everything I had, releasing every drop in her mouth.
She whimpered, sucking and swallowing greedily.
“Shit.” I staggered back in the elevator car.
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, looking satisfied.
“Better?” she teased.
“Come here.” I pulled her into my arms, kissing her roughly. “After we finish with boring Sutcliffe and royal protocol, I promise your first night in the palace is something you’ll never forget.”
“But I’ve already spent the night here.”
“Not as a resident. And that’s going to require something extra special.”
Twenty-Eight
Molly
I sat on one side of Damon while Sutcliffe sat on the other. The royal study was on the first floor, not far from the library.
Sutcliffe was listing proclamations and precedent that had been set hundreds of years ago. It would have been a fascinating history if Damon hadn’t been so pissed.
Damon’s brow furrowed. “I didn’t ask you to tell me what I can’t do, Sutcliffe. I asked you to figure out how we’re going to do it. Because Molly is sleeping under this roof. Starting tonight.” He pressed his finger into the table.
Sutcliffe exhaled. “Sir, I realize what the assignment is.” His mustache twitched. “However, co-habiting is strictly forbidden.”
“Forbidden by whom? The king?” Damon dared him to answer with something as illogical.
I didn’t know how I could help. I didn’t know the Galonian traditions. I was a newbie at the royal history.
“There are hundreds of rooms in the palace.” I broke the deafening silence. “How do the citizens know I’m not staying in one of those?”
Sutcliffe pinched his thin lips together. “It isn’t that simple. You two are under the same roof.”
“But the roof is a mile long,” I argued.
“That is not a defense I can present to the moral citizens of this country.” He glared at me.
“Maybe you should try the immoral ones,” I snapped.
Damon shook his head. “Enough. We need a solution. Molly’s safety is what matters. I’m not going to subject her to the paparazzi. And I want her here.” He looked at me warmly for a brief second.
“What does Isabel do?” I asked. “Has she never had a boyfriend stay over?”
“Princess Isabel isn’t a part of the problem,” Sutcliffe explained. “She wouldn’t think of anything like this.”
“And the princes?” I continued my line of questioning.
“Where are you going with this?” Sutcliffe had lost all patience with me. I realized that had happened the first day we met. An American wandering around the palace looking for the king was the last thing he wanted to deal with.
“The public can’t possibly believe single adults would live like nuns and monks. That’s beyond common sense. Hasn’t at least one of them had a girlfriend that was serious?”
I didn’t know if I was prying too much. Poking around where I wasn’t welcome, but this scenario was ridiculous.
Damon scowled. “Dominic.”
“Ok. At least someone has had a relationship. What happened?”
“It is not appropriate to discuss the personal lives of the royal family,” Sutcliffe admonished me. “They should remain private.”
Damon shook him off. “She may ask anything she chooses. That’s why we’re here. Nothing we do remains private. Our personal lives are front page news.” He turned to me. “It didn’t work out with the girlfriend.”
I tilted my head. I wanted more information than that.
Damon sighed. “She left. She couldn’t handle the spotlight. The press hounded her non-stop. It reached the point that they camped out in front of her parents’ house. She couldn’t go to work. She couldn’t go to the market. There was an assault.” His voice was hushed.
“Assault?”
“One of the camera crews pushed a camera in her face when she was visiting her parents. She shoved him out of the way to get in the front door. He filed a law suit, claiming she assaulted him. That was the last straw.”
“Oh my God.”
“It was eventually dropped,” he explained. “But the damage was done.”
“And Dominic? There wasn’t anything he could do?”
He shook his head. “No. He even offered to step away from the crown. But he let things get too far before he even considered that. It was too late. She left the country. She said it was the only way to have a normal life.”
I felt a small hold around my neck as if something had clamped against my throat. The fishbowl the royal family lived in had already destroyed one relationship. Were we next? We were still new. Budding. Growing. Exploring. To even say we were a we, seemed too new. How would we ever survive anything like that?
“I see.”
Sutcliffe rapped his hand on the table. “What happened to Prince Dominic isn’t our concern.”
“Like hell it’s not,” Damon snapped. “He’s trapped. We’re all trapped. That’s what the crown does. It destroyed him. Look at him now. He drinks the demons away. I don’t even recognize my own brother. It is every bit my concern.”
Sutcliffe lowered his eyes. “I’m sorry, sir. Of course. He’s your brother. His health is the concern of the country.”
“Why is that?” I questioned. It sounded like he had been put through enough being a member of the royal family. It had cost him his girlfriend and his freedom.
“He’s next in line for the throne,” Sutcliffe answered.
Oh shit. That was a problem. I’d only heard bits and pieces. But Dominic’s story was starting to come together. I didn’t need his entire history to understand how the pressure could lead to his impulse to drink.
I remembered Damon telling me how the Galonian crown was passed to the next monarch. I knew he would never step down. There was only one way Dominic would become king. My stomach rolled with nausea at the thought. Damon would have to be dead for that to happen.
“Molly can have her own set of apartments,” Damon started. “She’s right. No one will know what part of the roof she’s under.”
“Sir, she doesn’t have a title. You can’t give her apartments.”
He growled. “Fine. I’ll give her a title.”
My heart pulsed an extra beat.
“That requires a ceremony. She must be presented to the court as well as your cabinet.” Sutcliffe started to perspire on his forehead. He reached for a silk handkerchief. “I believe I can put the events together in six months. That is if I work day and night.”
Damon laughed. “Six months? I said tonight.”
“Impossible.”
I held my breath. I knew Damon well enough he didn’t like to be told no, especially when he had an agenda. Right now, that agenda was me.
“I’ve been committed to modernizing the monarchy. This is my opportunity to do it publicly. We’ll have the ceremony in private and Molly will be pres
ented this evening in the blue ballroom. Invite the court and the cabinet. Make sure my brothers and sister are there.”
“You want to mix the court and the government?”
“It’s necessary. Now I have to think of a title.” He winked at me.
God, I hoped he wouldn’t try to decree me as the royal concubine.
“Ahh, I have one.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“Royal Consort.” He grinned.
Shit. In some cultures, a consort was the royal concubine, and in others the consort was a spouse. Could he have come up with something more ambiguous?
“Your majesty, that title hasn’t been used in Galona in two hundred years.”
He grinned. “Good. I’ll appease the traditionalists with the title and prove to the modern citizens things are changing.”
I didn’t like that they argued because of me. I was already at the center of the palace’s biggest distraction with the olive grove photo. I didn’t want to cause division. I wanted to help Damon secure the irrigation funding. Instead we were in secret meetings so I could move in.
Part of me wanted to walk away. Climb in a car and drive back to my shabby little apartment on Rue de Santa Lucia, where I could crawl into bed and listen to Brooklyn singing in the shower. Where I could get lost in my notecards. The place where I could come and go whenever I wanted.
Had I lost all of that? Had I already given it up to be with Damon?
Sutcliffe and Damon continued to discuss why there had to be a ball tonight and why it was an unrealistic request.
They argued and I grew quiet, absorbed in the place in my mind where I couldn’t escape the doubt. What was I giving up for a man I met through an auction? A man who was used to being in constant control? A man who had never had a serious relationship?
Did Dominic’s girlfriend give up too much for too long? Was she as wrecked as the prince? I didn’t know if she was as haunted by the breakup as he was. Would that be me? Was I going to end up a shell of myself with nothing left? No privacy. No freedom. And no love.
