“Lied to you?” He tugged her closer. “When have I ever lied to you, darlin’?”
“You said you couldn’t swim!” Her tone was full of indignation. “Which is why I jumped in after you.”
“I never said I couldn’t swim,” he reasoned. “I said you would find out if I did.”
“I should have let you drown.” She struggled harder now as she attempted to get out of his grasp. “Let me go!”
“It seems the gods have answered my prayers,” said a heavily-accented voice. “Beautiful women are now trying to get away from you, instead of throwing themselves at your feet.”
Duncan didn’t turn his head toward the speaker, already knowing who it was. Instead, he focused on Julianna who stopped struggling. Her dark brows knitted together in confusion.
He let her wrist go, then turned his head toward the new arrival. “What the fuck are you doin’ here?”
“Tsk, tsk, is that any way to talk to royalty?”
“Oh, sorry,” Duncan mocked. “Forgive my manners. What the fuck are you doin’ here, Your Highness. Is that better?”
Prince Karim Idris Salamuddin laughed. “Hello, old friend, it is good to see you.”
Duncan reached his hand out, and the two men clasped each other by the arm. “How are you, my friend?” Though the visit was unexpected, Duncan, of course, didn’t resent his best friend coming even though his time with Julianna had been interrupted.
“As well as I could be.” His eyes focused somewhere behind Duncan. “Who is your guest?”
Duncan almost forgot about Julianna, and he was surprised she was still there. However, seeing the way Karim’s eyes raked over her with interest, he almost wished she did run away.
Clearing his throat, he pulled her forward, snaking an arm around her shoulder. “Julianna, allow me to introduce His Royal Highness, and royal pain in my ass, The Crown Prince Karim Idris Salamuddin, Heir to the Throne of Zhobghadi. Your Highness,” he tried not to laugh when he used the formal salutation. “This is Ms. Julianna Anderson of New York.”
Karim put on his most dazzling smile. “Lovely to meet you, Ms. Anderson.” He took the hand she offered and kissed it. As he let go, he looked up at her, his head cocking to the side. “Have we met before?”
Julianna stiffened. “I don’t think so.”
Duncan’s wolf nearly leapt out of him, but he reined it in. Despite his earlier threat of murder, he really couldn’t do it to his oldest friend. Instead, he lowered his arm around her waist, resting his palm on her hip.
A dark brow lifted at the possessive gesture. “So, you’ve finally decided to bring one of your girlfriends home to meet your family?”
“I’m not his girlfriend.” Julianna shoved him away. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to catch a cold if I don’t get changed out of these wet clothes.” She pivoted and marched up the staircase.
When she disappeared from view, Karim said, “Anything you care to tell me?”
“It’s a long story. One best told over some whiskey.”
The prince laughed. “Now you are talking.”
As the two men walked together, Duncan decided to get a few things out of the way before they relaxed. “I’m sorry about your father.”
Karim’s face didn’t falter at all, but Duncan could see the prince’s cerulean blue eyes turn dark. “Thank you. I have received your messages and voicemails but—”
“You’re busy, I understand.” And he did, really. It couldn’t have been easy to lose your only parent so suddenly, without warning. From what Karim had told him before, King Nassir was strong and healthy, showing no signs of illness. To hear that he had died of a sudden heart attack was shocking to say the least. “I’m always here for you, my friend.”
“I know. And I am sorry to come unannounced.”
“You know you’re always welcome here. It’s been too long since you last visited Castle Kilcraigh.”
Karim rubbed his thick dark beard with his thumb and forefinger. “Was it … five years ago?”
“Six, at least. I was still working in London at the time. You came for Christmas.”
“Ah, much too long then.”
They stopped just outside the library, and with Karim being so comfortable at Castle Kilcraigh, he went inside first. When his eyes landed on the painting over the mantle, Duncan realized he should have warned him at least.
The normally unflappable prince looked gobsmacked. Slack-jawed, he turned to Duncan, then to the painting, then back to Duncan. “You have some explaining to do, my friend.”
Duncan gestured to the couch, then walked over to the liquor cabinet to grab a decanter and two glasses. Pouring a measure for each of them, he stalked back to the sitting area and handed a glass to Karim. How was he going to explain it to him? Karim was human after all and knew nothing about Lycans and True Mates. He took a big gulp of whiskey before speaking. “She’s a guest of my family, from another cla—another company. Here on business.”
Karim wrapped his hand around the glass and stared into the amber liquid. “And her resemblance to your lady? How did this come to be?”
“Damned if I know.” And damned if he cared. Duncan wasn’t a religious man, but if this wasn’t a fucking sign they were meant to be together, then he didn’t know what this all meant. “The experts I hired to check the painting couldn’t really tell me anything except that the painter was most likely Italian.”
“An ancestor perhaps? I’ve seen some portraits of old and can trace the similarities to the descendants. But still … the resemblance is stunning.” Karim took a sip from his glass.
“That’s the weird part.” Duncan scratched his head. “The painting was done in England.”
“Quite a conundrum.” Karim shrugged. “But you know they say that sometimes the simplest explanation is the truth. It is a coincidence.”
Duncan nodded in agreement, but the feeling that there was another explanation just kept niggling at him.
The prince’s brows drew together. “So, your real flesh and blood lady … she doesn’t want you?”
Duncan laughed at his friend’s surprise. Karim, after all, had been his frequent companion when they’d trawled the bars in their younger days. “Oh, she wants me.” That kiss—and more—this afternoon proved it.
Karim looked at him over the rim of the glass as he took another sip. “She just doesn’t want anything else to do with you.”
“She’s a … challenge.”
“A first for you.”
“She’ll come ’round.” She had to. Uncomfortable with where this was going, he decided to change the subject. “To what do I owe this surprise visit, by the way?”
Karim put the glass down on the table. “I do apologize for showing up unannounced. I just … I needed to get away. The paparazzi are getting on my nerves. The Almoravid actually found one of them hiding in the trunk of my limo,” he said, referring to the elite members of the Zhobghadi Military who served as personal protectors to the royal family. “I can’t go anywhere without the press following me.”
“Finally catchin’ up with you, you mean?” While in their younger days, Duncan had been far worse when it came to partying and women, he did manage to straighten himself out since he’d moved back to Scotland. Karim, on the other hand, not only continued his jet-setting playboy ways, but because of his status, developed a very public reputation. The gossip rags were filled with ink devoted to his supposed escapades with various supermodels, actresses, and socialites all over the world. Most of the things they printed were wild speculations and outright lies, but Duncan knew his friend enough to know there was some truth to those stories.
“I suppose everything catches up eventually.” His eyes turned dark. “We took a roundabout way here and shook them off our tail. They’ll never guess this is where I came. I just need some peace. I will be leaving in the morning, however. I must return to Zhobghadi.”
“So, are you finally taking the crown?” Though he hadn’t spoken to his friend in almost a
year, he had read on the news—real political news, not gossip rags—that the throne of Zhobghadi still sat empty, and a coronation had not been announced. Whether that was deliberate, Duncan didn’t know, but he knew his friend was not expecting to become king so soon and had enjoyed his life of leisure.
Karim grunted. “It is complicated. But once I return this time … things will be different. I may not have the opportunity to visit you again.”
Duncan understood. Once Karim was king, he would have many responsibilities as the head of state. Random jaunts to Scotland wouldn’t be possible. “I appreciate you wanting to spend your last moments of freedom with me. Your timing is shite,” he chuckled. “But I’m glad you’re here.”
Karim gave him a warm smile. “So, tell me all about your Julianna.”
His Julianna. He liked that. She wasn’t yet his, but she would be. “Where do I begin? You know, she stomped on my foot and punched me in the stomach the first time we met.…”
Duncan spent most of the afternoon catching up with Karim, not an unpleasant time, though his mind kept wandering off to thoughts of Julianna, where she was and what she was doing. He knew she probably needed some time to cool off, though even now, all he wanted to do was hunt her down and taste those plush lips of hers again. The feel of her body underneath his had been so right, and he knew if he didn’t have her soon, he was going to go crazy.
Unfortunately, since he had wiled the afternoon away, his work began to pile up. His parents agreed to head up north so he would have an excuse to be alone with Julianna, but that meant he was stuck doing his father’s work too. As soon as he was done, though, his first thought was to seek out Julianna. But, unsure if the she-wolf was still mad at him—and odds were she probably was—he switched tactics and went to Reed and Elise instead. He told them that since his parents were gone and took Roslyn with them and that Fraser had gone back to England, the remaining people at the castle could go into town for dinner, at a local pub named The Black Swan. They thought that was a good idea and said they would relay the message to Julianna.
To his surprise, Julianna showed up downstairs at the appointed time and even volunteered to drive their rental so they wouldn’t all have to squeeze into his Land Rover. When they got to the pub, however, she sat as far away from him as possible and gave him cool, indifferent looks when he tried to include her in the conversation. It annoyed him no end, but he had faith that they wouldn’t be True Mates if she didn’t feel anything for him at all. Sure, they had only met yesterday, but her reluctance was maddening. It was like she didn’t even want to try. His wolf was urging him to make her theirs, but it was difficult to reason with the animal that it wasn’t as simple as making off into the hills with her.
After they finished dinner, Lachlan declared he wanted a couple of pints at the bar. Karim joined him, as did Finlay.
“How about it?” he asked the Americans as the rest of their party had already gone to the bar.
“Go ahead, Reed,” Elise encouraged her husband. “I’ll be fine. You know I can’t stand alcohol in my condition.”
“I’ll stay with her.” Julianna raised her glass of wine. “I’m not done yet.”
“All right.” Reed stood up. “It has been a while since I’ve gone to a real public house—I mean, pub.”
Duncan shook his head mentally. Reed Wakefield was a strange one. He was well-mannered, in fact, rather too well-mannered sometimes. And sometimes he’d say strange things and spoke like he was in a Shakespearean play. He liked the man, though.
However, there was something about Reed … Duncan just couldn’t figure it out. Like, underneath that cool surface was something he was trying to hide or keep inside. But if he was anything like his English relatives, he wasn’t the type to let it out. Hopefully, the man would find some outlet for his feelings before he exploded.
When they approached the bar, Lachlan handed them two pints. “Here you go.”
“Thank you.” Reed seemed taken aback by the sheer size of the mug. “I must say, it’s been a while since I’ve had a real pint of ale—er, lager.”
Finlay laughed. “All that time in North America’s softened you up.”
“You are not English?” Karim asked. “But you sound and act so English.”
“Reed was born in England, but emigrated to Canada when he was a teen,” Duncan explained. He had introduced Elise and Reed to him before they came here, but failed to tell his friend of their background. “He’s researching his ancestors because he was adopted.”
“Ah, and how goes this research?”
“Very well, Your Highness.” Reed took a big gulp from his pint. “So, tell me,” he gestured with his glass toward Karim and Duncan. “How did a foreign prince and a Scotsman become best friends?”
“We had common enemies.” Karim grinned.
“At school,” Duncan clarified. “We were both fifteen, came in weeks apart at Eton, me at the beginning of the year and him sometime in the middle.”
“We were the foreigners,” Karim said. “All those stuffy English boys hated us. That’s why we got along.”
“And he was the only bastard as large as me at that age,” Duncan added.
“I’m still taller,” Karim added smugly.
“And he never lets me forget it.” Ah, those were the days. “Those dandy boys picked on us, so we banded together against the fookin’ English.” He turned to Reed. “No offense.”
The other man chuckled. “None taken. But it certainly is an interesting friendship.”
“Duncan is like a brother to me,” Karim confessed and raised his glass toward Duncan.
He was taken aback, but clinked his pint against Karim’s and took a drink. “Thank you.”
Those words meant a lot, and he knew Karim wouldn’t ever say them lightly. His friend was very closed off, and while he may consider Duncan a brother, he knew there were certain things the prince would never confide in him. While many people thought Karim had won the genetic lottery by being born a prince, it sounded more of a burden than a gift, especially when he talked of growing up lonely in the palace with no siblings close to his age or friends. Then there was that dreadful business about the mysterious death of his mother, a fact that many gossip rags loved to muck up every now and then.
“Och, are we gonna start cryin’ like old biddies now?” Lachlan guffawed. “Shall I go get me mum’s knitting needles, and we can start a fucking quilting circle?”
The men laughed, and as if to prove Lachlan wrong, ordered another round, which they all decided to down in one gulp, racing to see who could finish first. They did this a few more times. As Lycans, they burned through the alcohol quickly, but after the fourth round, Duncan was definitely feeling a little buzzed.
“You have the constitution of a Scotsman,” Finlay remarked as he watched Karim down one more pint. Indeed, Karim was the only human he knew who could drink him and his brothers under the table.
“This swill you call beer?” Karim slammed the glass down on the bar. “It is nothing. I should bring you some of our special drinks from Zhobghadi.” He looked around, then nodded in the direction of the men’s room. “Excuse me, I’ll be right back.”
“You know,” Lachlan began when Karim was far enough away, “we need to give our friend some of that special brew.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
“Special brew?” Reed asked.
Duncan grinned. “Yeah. It’s something we’ve been working on for a better part of the year. A whiskey that can get even Lycans drunk.”
“Truly?” Reed seemed intrigued. “What’s in it?”
“Well, we’ve got a special—What’s wrong Lachlan?”
His brother’s smile had transformed into a scowl. “That.”
Turning around, he followed the direction of Lachlan’s glare. Elise and Julianna were still sitting at their table, but they were not alone. Two men were sitting down with them, and one of them was next to Julianna, leaning in close.
“What the fuck is that
scabby bassa doing?” Lachlan slammed his glass on the bar top. “You gonna let that bawbag put his hands all over your mate?”
Duncan was already marching toward the girls, and Reed was right behind him. He could feel the other man’s wolf practically leaping out. The second man was trying to talk to Elise, despite her body language screaming her discomfort and the fact that she was obviously pregnant. He couldn’t blame Reed because his own animal was ready to rip some heads off.
“… can’t believe any man would let pretty lasses like you all alone.”
Julianna’s eyes narrowed at him. “I don’t need—”
“They’re not alone.” His voice was even, despite the turmoil he felt inside.
The man pretended like he didn’t hear Duncan. “How about we go to my place and—”
His fingers itched, but he kept his hands at his sides. “Listen here—”
“Stop.” Julianna rolled her eyes and held up a hand. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“You’re bloody right, you aren’t,” Duncan said. “She’s m—”
“And you listen here, Duncan,” Julianna interrupted. “I can take care of myself. You don’t have to act like some white knight who—” A loud crash cut her off and made her start.
“I said get the bloody hell away from my WIFE!” It seemed Reed wasn’t taking no for an answer either as he had grabbed the man who was sitting next to Elise and threw him across the room, sending him crashing against the wall.
“Fookin’ English bastard!” someone screamed. “Git him!” Chairs scraped and tables were pushed over as a room full of drunk Scotsmen zeroed in on Reed.
Duncan had been so distracted that he didn’t see the man next to him pull his fist back, aiming for his head. He braced himself for the hit, but it never came.
Julianna moved so fast; she was just a blur. One moment she was sitting down, and the next, she had the man’s face down on the table, his hands pinned behind him.
“I said, I’m not going anywhere with you, asshole,” she growled.
Bloody hell, he was scared and turned on at the same time.
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