She frowned. “You do?”
Amused by the frown, he nodded. “I do. You show it in many ways.” And that was no lie. She did, by including him where it would be easy to exclude him.
“Oh.” Her frown lightened. “Well, I’m glad I do.”
“And I feel the same.” He caught her eye, trying to imbue those words with the depth of emotion she inspired in him.
She licked her lips at that. “I-I just… I didn’t want you to think that my wanting to stay here meant anything bad, you know?”
“No, it means you’re trying to find your place in this life and—” He blew out a deep breath. “Perry, as much as I want to make this easier on you, staying here won’t do that.”
Her scowl made another reappearance. “Why not?”
“Because Masonbrook is the main seat. You need to grow more comfortable being there.”
He watched as she ducked her gaze and began biting her bottom lip. Under his watchful eyes, she raised a hand and began gnawing at her thumbnail in a way that would send his tanta Marianne’s blood pressure soaring through the roof.
“There are too many people there.”
“I know. It’s difficult. But you’ll grow used to it. With time. You can’t do that if you’re here and not there.”
She blinked. “But surely…”
“You can do whatever you want, Perry. That’s not under discussion. If you want to leave Masonbrook, you can. I just think it would be easier for you in the long run that you grow accustomed to the castle.”
“Are Edward’s quarters like his office?” she asked, sounding hopeful.
“You mean three-hundred year old art isn’t your style? Perry, you wound me,” he teased.
She stuck out her tongue. “I just want to have somewhere I don’t need to be terrified about spilling tea over everything.” She propped her elbow on the armrest, and glumly murmured, “Somewhere I don’t need to worry about knocking over a Ming vase. There’s a reason my home is nearly empty… I can’t be trusted with tchotchkes.”
“I broke an irreplaceable Limoges salt and pepper cellar when I was a child,” he told her, his tone reminiscent. “My mother didn’t speak to me for a week save for scoldings. Then, my grandmother, who you would have loved, told her that these priceless artifacts were as entwined with our daily living as they’d been for our ancestors, and that to punish a small boy for such a mistake was unfair when we lived in a museum.” His smile deepened as he remembered his grandmother’s wrinkled hand when it came up to run her fingers through his hair to settle the mop of curls he now kept tamed with a short cut. “Mother soon had most of the delicate items put in storage. Where they remain to this day.”
She blinked. “But your house has lots of stuff in it.”
“Of course. But not my rooms. Or the ones I use more than most.” He shrugged. “When you’re the queen, you can do what you will with Masonbrook. As it stands, when you marry, you’ll get different quarters. You can be the queen of those until the time comes for you to take your place.”
She winced. “That had better be many moons in the future.”
His smile was tight. “I pray you’re right.”
His somber words caught her attention, but before she could ask him anything—her intention was written into the lines that made up the scowl on her face—Edward stormed in.
He wore his anger like a damn cape that swirled about his feet as he took in the room on the whole. Spotting Xavier on the cello and Perry on the sofa, he retreated to the violin. Before anyone could say another word, he’d pressed the instrument to his chin and out poured a furious tumbling of Mozart.
Xavier caught Perry’s eye, shot her a quick grin, and joined him in the madness.
She didn’t particularly like classical music. In fact, she’d have said she loathed it. But watching Xavier and Edward play was far more entertaining than it should have been.
They were somber men in public. Quick to smile, granted, but their shoulders were always tense. They were rigid with their duty—as though each moment was loaded with the impossibility of their forgetting, even for a moment, the severity and strictures born within their station.
But here, now, they flowed.
That was the only way she could describe it.
For these endless, timeless moments, they were at one with the music she usually hated, but now loved. If it meant seeing them this way, then she had a new favorite.
Touched to the depths of her soul at their ability to relax with her, she felt her eyes burn with tears at the sight of them. Of their liberation in art.
It was… a masterpiece to her.
It was like the air around them could sigh out its relief at their having calmed down, and in turn, the music actually soothed her too. Enabled her to sit back in the seat with more ease.
Of course, now that she’d told Xavier the truth of her feelings for him, she felt like she could breathe easier too.
When she’d thought about love before, she’d never envisaged it could be this way.
So all-encompassing. In a way, she felt like she could drown in it. Like it could overtake her.
Perry knew that if she was to be with these three men, she’d have to be strong. Love needed strength anyway, but with George, Xavier, and Edward, it was different.
Their way of life presented issues normal mortals didn’t usually touch upon. And Perry, until George, had been the most ordinary of mortals. Now, she was going to be a princess. Strength and fortitude were going to have to be her keepers in the days, months, years ahead.
Her eyelids closed as the men slipped from one piece to another. It felt seamless to her, but they had to be communicating the change of composition somehow. But she wouldn’t let herself be swept up in such matters; she slipped out of her shoes and curled her feet under her on the sofa.
However she’d imagined passing the rest of the afternoon, it hadn’t been like this.
She slept, eventually. She didn’t even know for how long, just that she awoke no longer on the uncomfortable cushions but in someone’s arms.
She sucked in a breath and smelled Xavier’s musky aftershave. With a yawn, she reached up and curled her arms about his neck. “Did you know that musk deer are on the protected register?”
The man holding her stilled a second. “Yes. I knew that. Why?”
“Your aftershave has musk in it,” she reasoned, pleased when Xavier chuckled. “How did you pick me up without waking me?” she asked, turning her face into his throat where more of his delicious scent could be found. She nuzzled him there, enjoying the way the muscles of his throat bobbed in response.
“With great difficulty,” he stated gravely, gravely enough for her to know he was joking.
“Jerk,” she said without heat. “If I had a weight problem, then you’d totally be up shit creek now, wouldn’t you?”
“But you don’t though, do you?” he countered.
“Most women do. We all want to be thinner or have more curves or to have a firmer ass.” She shrugged. “The nature of the female beast.”
“Well, your ass is divine, you have enough curves for me to drool over, and if you lost weight, your tits would shrink. So… nah. You’re perfect.”
A satisfied smile curved her lips as she finally opened her eyes and pulled away from the shadowy haven of his throat.
When she did, she saw Edward was at her side, moving silently with them. “Do you agree?” She hadn’t meant to sound so challenging, but it came out that way regardless.
It was hard not to picture his ex-wife. So fragile and delicate. Harder still not to see the arm candy he’d had in photos she’d found online, of his attendance at events both pre- and post-marriage. They’d all been the same.
Svelte.
Firm.
Toned.
Bitches.
He cocked a brow at the challenging note to her voice. “I think I need to prove my case if your tone is anything to go by.”
She blinked, surp
rised at the sparkle in his eye as he made such a vow. Then, the fact she was in Xavier’s arms and not Edward’s as he walked down the corridor to only-God-knew-where hit home. From scent alone, she’d known Xavier was the one carrying her, but here, that held implications, so she asked, “How come…? Where’s the staff?”
“They’re very well behaved,” was all Edward said.
“Did you use this place as a fuck pad?” she demanded, the thought occurring to her and stirring all her petty jealousies.
Jesus, only hours—or possibly minutes—before, she’d been thinking to herself about how she needed to be strong. Yet, here she was, falling at the first hurdle.
The green-eyed monster could be a true bitch.
“A fuck pad?” Edward repeated. “That’s a new one on me.”
“Because you’re so old,” she retorted with a huff, but her arms tensed around Xavier’s neck. He couldn’t help but feel it, but rather than say anything, he lowered his head and pressed a kiss to her temple.
The gentle, and loving, touch had her relaxing against him.
“I’m not that old,” Edward countered, but she could hear that he was still amused at the turn their conversation had taken.
“You’re in your forties. That’s positively ancient.”
Xavier snorted. “You’re thirty-one, Perry. Nine years isn’t that long a time.”
“I’m on the early half of thirty-five. I can afford to be mean still.”
Both men chuckled at her teasing. Edward, however, said, “No, Perry. This isn’t a fuck pad. I used a discreet apartment in Madela for such things.”
A part of her wanted to raze the apartment building to the ground at his words. Maybe he saw the evil twinkle in her eye because he reached out and traced a finger down the lower curve of her calf. “My, my, I think I like this jealous side of you.”
“I’m not jealous,” she groused.
“Seems like it to me,” Xavier pointed out cheerfully as Edward motioned to a door to the side of them. Edward turned the doorknob to let them through, and Xavier swung her around and headed through the opening.
She gasped at the sight of the room rather than take umbrage at Xavier’s taking Edward’s side.
“Wow,” she replied. “I’m sick of gilt and sick of antiques, but this place is fucking awesome.”
As was often the case when she was with them, either individually or within the quartet, they laughed. She made them laugh a lot, she realized, and was glad of that fact.
Edward always looked so somber that she wanted to tease him out of it. Xavier, more often than not, held the look of a man whose thoughts were elsewhere.
Probably back in his lab.
Because she could empathize, she wasn’t offended, but had made it her unofficial mission to make them both smile more.
The stateroom in question was epic. Maybe epic didn’t begin to describe it, she thought, as she took in the majesty of this place.
It was the size of a tennis court, minimum. One side of the room was taken up by just bed.
Miles and miles of it.
Okay, slight exaggeration, but she had no fucking idea where they bought sheets for that bad boy. Bed, Bath, and Beyond sure as fuck didn’t stock that kind of sizing.
Royal red curtains and a matching coverlet entwined around vine-like posts. They were the size of Xavier’s rugby-player thighs, too. Thick and carved with such detail that she wanted to stroke each one, feel the grain beneath her fingertips.
Each post held different carvings. They were all unique, some with flowers, others with insects engraved into the vines.
The rich dark wood gleamed with the patina of wax and old age.
When Xavier carried her over to it, depositing her down, she quickly grabbed him by the hips and kept him in place.
“What is this room?” she asked, staring around, inadvertently catching sight of her reflection.
Overhead.
She gaped, tilting her head back to better see the mirror.
It was aged, had spots on it in the corners that spoke of it being an antique.
Xavier laughed when he saw where she was looking. “One of our ancestors was a pervert.”
Her eyes flashed at the thought of seeing him above her, his ass flexing and working as he fucked her.
She licked her lips, then settled to biting the fleshy bottom one as the possibilities occurred to her.
“It’s a bedroom for the King; where he stays when he’s here.”
“Philippe stays here?” she asked Edward dumbly; he was the one who’d answered her.
She’d known this was no ordinary bedroom. But a bedroom fit for a king? Whoa.
He shook his head. “Father never comes here, but tradition would put him in this room if he did. But he wouldn’t. He knows this is where I sleep.”
“So, I’m sitting on a bed that’s held the asscheeks of royalty?”
Both men stilled at that, but Xavier was the first to break into chuckles. He reached down and cupped her cheek. “The way you view the world…” He grinned. “I love your brain, Perry.”
She pouted. “It’s true.” Kings had habits like anyone else. Like farting and burping, and of course, fucking, she thought. Though she held her tongue.
Almost as though he’d read her mind, Edward came and sat next to her on the bed. Her temperature immediately soared at having them both so close to her in such an intimate setting.
Knowing Edward’s penchant for sharing, as well as George’s, it surprised her that Xavier, not George was here if this had been their intention all along.
Her breathing sped up at the endless possibilities while Edward answered, “The mattress is frequently changed, Perry. The bed has witnessed many sordid acts, I’m sure, but the mattress hasn’t.”
She looked at him, wide-eyed. “How did you know I was thinking that?”
“Because when you have an inappropriate thought, a special kind of gleam appears in your eye.”
“What kind of gleam?” she asked suspiciously.
“I’d have said she looks constipated, just like you, Edward, when you’re worried,” Xavier retorted, drawing her attention to him.
She whacked him on the side. “I do not look constipated when I’m curious,” she grumbled.
“You do,” he teased. “Desperation for answers makes you bunged up.”
She couldn’t stop herself from laughing, but it died a little as she looked around the room.
“Christ, this is a bedroom for kings,” she breathed, more to herself than to them.
“It’s just a bedroom,” Edward countered softly. “Nothing more, nothing less.”
The look she cut him was wry. “Bullshit.”
“Whatever it is, it’s built on perfect proportions for more than two people,” Xavier commented. “This bed… it’s held more than a king and his queen.”
“Maybe deviancy is in the blood,” she remarked sweetly, giggling when Edward reached over in the blink of an eye and took her mouth.
“Deviant, am I?” he growled under his breath before he speared her lips with his tongue. She moaned into the kiss, loving the rapidness of it, the spontaneity, as well as his means of punishing her for her wicked words.
She smiled though, when Xavier shifted between her thighs. She loved that he was close, loved that he was seeing this.
“Seems like Edward isn’t the only deviant in the here and now,” was what he said as his hand came to her thigh, and she felt him move his thumb in a circle that made her wish he’d head further north.
She bit off a sigh when Edward pulled back, nipping her bottom lip as he did.
Her breathing was heavier now, and her eyelids had shuttered to a close in response to the magic the man could work with his mouth.
She wasn’t sure why, but ever since it had been taken as granted that the four of them were in this for keeps, they’d barely touched.
With three guys to satisfy, she’d kind of figured she’d be sore as hell. Instead, she
was dying here.
She rocked her hips, needing friction and not getting any, thanks to the way her thighs were parted because Xavier was standing in between them. Her hand snaked down, curling over her thigh, her aim evident, but Edward grabbed it.
“Now, why would you do a silly thing like that when we’re here to see to anything and everything you might need?”
She pouted, though his words sent her blood pressure soaring. Jesus, was this how a pasha of old had felt? Knowing he had hundreds of women to serve him? To give him pleasure?
“You haven’t been ‘seeing to’ much recently.”
“Is that a complaint, I hear, Xavier?” Edward asked his cousin, though his eyes were fixed firmly on Perry.
“It sounds like it. In fact, it sounds like the time we gave her to get used to this new situation has been sorely underappreciated.”
Her bottom lip popped out. “I didn’t say I didn’t appreciate it. Just…”
“You’re horny?” Xavier asked, humor in his voice.
“Maybe,” she retorted, peering up at him from under her lashes. When wide grins were her answer, she had to hide a snicker. Instead, she threw herself back against the mattress and nearly scared the shit out of herself when she came face-to-face with her reflection overhead. “Jesus,” she whispered.
There was a lot of her to see.
Her cheeks were bright pink, and her hair had clung to her brow. With just a kiss, he’d managed to make her body temperature skyrocket.
Her eyes were dark and stormy, and her lungs were starved for oxygen, which, of course, meant her breasts were jiggling like Jell-O salad.
“It’s intense, isn’t it?” Edward said softly, laying beside her, his hand coming to cup her breast as he stared up at the pair of them in the mirror.
“Very,” she whispered. “How do you sleep in this thing?”
He chuckled. “You get used to it.”
“Pervert,” she commented, but there was no heat to the word. “Although, considering I’d like to watch you jack off, I can’t blame the mirror for wanting to play dumb witness too.”
Silence fell at her words.
“You’d want to watch me jack off?” Edward asked around a croak, but she knew he was amused.
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