by Kim Loraine
“I’ll just be a minute, Logan.” I keep my voice light and sweet as I step out of the car and leave the driver at the curb. He thinks I have a feminine emergency, but in all reality, I’m about to duck out the back of the store and into my vintage ’67 Mustang. I’ve never been allowed to drive it, until now.
The shop attendant looks at me, frowns, then does a double take as I make a bee-line for the back door. Before she can stop me, I’m outside, pulling the keys from my pocket and jumping into the driver’s seat. The car starts with a beautiful purr, and I’m thankful once again for that useful stablehand. Charlie knows I’ll pay him well to do things for me.
My suitcase is in the back seat, sunglasses tucked in the dashboard, and the radio is playing my favorite song. I’m ready for my first real lost weekend. For the next three days, I’m not a princess. I’m Alina. Just Alina.
I pull up out front of the hotel Kingston’s been staying in while his home is being renovated and dig my cell phone out of my purse.
Downstairs. I’m waiting in the car.
He doesn’t answer, but I see he’s read the text. In a few minutes, the man appears, dressed casually in jeans and an open leather jacket displaying his white T-shirt. God, he looks like a very tall James Dean, and I want to climb him like a tree.
I watch him search for me, his gaze lingering on every black town car he sees, and I can’t help but giggle. Then he pulls his phone from his back pocket and chews on his lip a moment as he types.
Where are you?
I type back.
Right in front of you. Red Mustang.
His eyes widen, and a smile spreads his lips for a moment before a frown replaces the expression, and he stalks over to me. “Do you even have a driver’s license?”
“Get in, loser.”
“Did you really just quote Mean Girls?”
I laugh. “Do you really know the lines for that movie?”
He tosses his bag in the backseat next to mine and gets in. “Don’t kill us. This is a terrible car to drive into the mountains, by the way. I doubt these tires can handle snow.”
“We’re not going to the mountains, Kingston.”
His eyes lock on mine. “What?”
“You and me? We’re going on a holiday.”
“A holiday? I thought that’s what the ski trip was.”
I shake my head. “Listen, I am so bloody exhausted by the prim and proper expectations of being princess. Ryder is king, and Gemma is queen now. She’s about to have a baby, bring the next heir to the throne into the world. That makes me third in line for the throne. I’m back to where I’ve always been, and that’s fine with me. Waverly is the proper one. She’s the role model, the fashion icon, the beloved princess. I’m the forgotten one. The little sister. So, until I have to marry whoever it is my brother chooses for me, I want to sow my oats. I want to see the world and experience life outside of being royal.” My chest hurts a little as the words I’ve never said aloud resonate in the car. “I want to know what it’s like to be normal. To be free.”
“I…I didn’t realize—”
“Of course, you didn’t. You’ve been oblivious to me my whole life. So, we’re heading to France. I’m getting a haircut as soon as we get there, and no one is going to tell my brother where I am. Understand?”
“You’re cutting your hair?” He says it like that’s the worst idea I could’ve ever had.
“So no one will recognize me.”
He grins. “It’s not your hair people notice. Don’t cut it. It’s my favorite part of you.”
My heart flips. He’s never complimented me like that before. “How am I going to hide, then?”
“We’ll get you big sunglasses and floppy hats. Besides, hiding you isn’t the best idea. Your brother will have every surface of this earth combed for you.” He drags a hand through his hair and sighs. “When we arrive, and we’re out of Ryder’s reach, I’ll call and let him know you’re safe with me.”
I chew my lip as I ponder his suggestion. He’s right, of course. my brother is protective beyond measure and he most certainly would search for me. “Fine.”
Pulling the car into traffic, I turn right and head in the direction of the motorway. But Kingston coughs. “What is it?” I snap.
“Your parking break is still on. Do you smell that?”
There is a distinct scent of burning rubber and motor oil in the car, but I just thought that came with driving a classic car. I look around the interior of the car and finally just give up and pull to the side of the road. “Where is the damn thing?”
His low chuckle makes a shiver run down my spine in the most delicious way, but I’m also annoyed and embarrassed. Kingston leans over me and reaches to my left, where he finds a lever and attempts to release the brake. “Damn,” he mutters. “Switch with me. Let me have a go at this thing.”
I don’t argue. If we can’t release the brake, this car won’t get us very far. “Don’t break my car, Kingston,” I say after walking round the front and taking his seat. He’s slid over to the driver’s side and is fiddling with the mechanism, a frown furrowing his brow.
“Did you pull this with some sort of supernatural strength?”
I shake my head. “I’ve never driven it before. Charlie brought it out of the garage for me.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “Charlie? Who is Charlie?” There’s a sneer in his tone that I definitely don’t mind.
“The stablehand.”
“And why is Charlie doing you favors, princess?”
I grin. There’s a lot I can do with this. “He’s my friend. Friends help each other.”
“Not guys. Guys are never just friends. They always want something.”
“So…you’re telling me you aren’t just my friend.”
His cheeks turn slightly pink, and he swallows hard. “I’m your brother’s friend. That’s different.”
“Oh, all right. I paid Charlie to help me.”
He grins. “That’s more like it.” Then he sits back in the seat and looks me dead in the eye. “I’m sorry to tell you this, but your car is out of commission until she’s been seen by a mechanic. The brake is locked up, and there’s no way we can drive it.”
My heart sinks. “This is my only chance to get away. Please tell me you’ll help me. I’ll do anything.”
Chapter 4
Kingston
The look in her eyes would’ve ruined a weaker man. As for me? I knew the moment she told me her plan I wouldn’t be able to deny her. In truth, now that I can control this excursion, I feel a lot better.
“All right, stop with the puppy eyes. I just so happen to have a jet available. We’ll head to my estate, and, by nightfall, we’ll be sipping champagne in Paris.”
She shakes her head. “No. I want to experience things like a normal person would.”
“You don’t think I’m normal?”
“Definitely not. You’re Lord Haverford. Second wealthiest nobleman in Corline. Normal people don’t just hop on private jets and head to Paris.”
“I’ve got a car.”
Her smile is wide and bright. “Perfect.” Then she taps her lip with her finger. “How are we going to get to your car?”
I step out of her Mustang and hail us a taxi. The shiny black car pulls up next to us, and it’s clear the driver has recognized her immediately. I slip him some cash and whisper, “You don’t know her, right?”
He tucks the bills away in his breast pocket and nods. “Never seen her in my life, sir.”
“Good man.” Opening the door, I let Alina slide inside as I grab our bags from the back of her car. I settle in beside her, our thighs brushing as we adjust to make room for each other. Then I rattle off the address to my estate in the northern part of our country. The driver balks at the distance, but then must think better of himself because, as Alina said, I’m the second wealthiest nobleman in the country. I’m good for the fare.
An hour later we’re in my Range Rover and heading out of town. �
��So, Paris, huh?” I ask, as the city gives way to countryside.
“I love Paris.” She shrugs and stares out the window, her fingers tapping a staccato rhythm on her thighs. She’s nervous, but she’ll never admit it. This isn’t just her rebelling, this is a statement.
“What if we went somewhere you’ve never been? Somewhere no one would know you.” In truth, I don’t want her to be seen with me, photographed with me-- linked to me in any way that might indicate something more scandalous than friendship. I’m painted a notorious womanizer by the press, and her reputation would be ruined if word got out she’d spent time alone with me.
She swings her gaze back to me, and when those gorgeous eyes of hers lock with mine, I have to fight the urge to touch her. “Where would that be?”
I grin. “Leave that to me, princess. Do you trust me?”
“My brother seems to, and I trust him with my life.”
“That’s not what I asked. Do you trust me?” I can’t help myself. I take her hand and squeeze. It’s vital that she truly believe I’d never do anything to harm her. If she doesn’t feel that way, I can’t put myself in this situation.
She swallows, and her brow furrows. “I do. I trust you, Kingston.”
“Brilliant.” My smile is instantaneous and uncontrollable. “Then I’m going to show you what it’s like to be a nobody.”
A laugh spills from her, and she swats my shoulder lightly. “I doubt you know what that’s like.”
“Oh, I’ve perfected the art of not being noticed when I don’t want to.” Her eyebrow rises. “Really, I have. The only time I end up in the tabloids is when I’ve planned it.”
“You have to teach me your ways.”
I offer her a wink. “That’s what I’m doing.”
She leans her head on my shoulder and sighs. “Thank you, Kingston. Thank you so much for doing this with me. I know it’s crazy.”
“You know, I don’t think it is. I think if your brother had the chance, he would take Gemma and be normal for a weekend.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s how they fell in love. The weekend at our chalet. They hated each other before that.”
Unease prickles along my spine. “You know that’s not what’s going to happen with us, right? You and I…we’re not going to cross that line.”
Her shoulders tense, and she sits up, scooting away from me. “I’m not a complete idiot. I know I’m not your type.”
Fuck, but she is. She’s exactly my type and then some. But she’s too young. I’m not the right man for her. We would never work.
My chest tightens. What am I thinking? There is not a we, and there never will be. She’s off limits. End of story.
The rest of the ride is tense silence, but I know she’s disappointed with my lack of rebuttal. This is a terrible idea. Alina has always flirted with me, always let her gaze linger too long, and now, I’m truly taking notice.
Eventually Alina drifts off to sleep, her face turned toward me, looking like an angel. I drive us past the border of our small country and into a remote, but scenic town, and as night falls, we finally pull up to the cottage I own.
“Where are we?” she asks through a yawn.
“Olindelle.”
She frowns. “I’ve never seen this town.”
I can’t hide my grin. “I know. This is one of their best kept secrets.” After getting out of the car, I walk around and open her door. “No internet, minimal technology, just a lifestyle that takes you back to simpler times.”
“Will I have to churn my own butter?”
I laugh. “Only if you want to. I said minimal technology, not the dark ages.”
“And you just happen to know this cottage is available?”
Shrugging, I pull my keys from my pocket and open the front door. “I own this. I come here when I need a reset.”
That brow of hers cocks again. “Do you often need to reset?”
“At least once a month.” I drag a hand through my hair and offer her a smirk. “It’s exhausting being a rake.”
Her answering laugh warms my heart. I hadn’t realized how beautiful her laughter is. Letting her inside, I flip on the light and watch as she takes it all in. The Scandinavian influenced decor never seemed as perfect as it does right now. With light wood flooring, white walls, textures ranging from faux fur to heavy knits, it’s warm and bright and clean-- a departure from the antiques of the palace she grew up in.
“It’s perfect,” she breathes. “I’m surprised this is yours. You don’t seem like the type of man who needs quiet.”
“What type of man do you think I am?”
She turns to face me, determination in her gaze. “You’re the type of man who’ll take any woman to bed, but the one he really wants.” God help me, this woman is dangerous. She stalks toward me and bites her lower lip. “You’re the man who’s too afraid to make a move on his king’s little sister. No matter how obvious it is that we’re made for each other.”
Fuck. I thought I’d hidden my desire so well over the last few months. “Alina—” I start, but she puts a finger over my lips.
“Don’t tell me we can’t do this. I saw you staring at the auction. I recognize the look of a man who sees something he wants. Now, I’m telling you, you can have it. Take it before I’m given to someone else.”
I swear my brain stops working as her words hit me. I have to blink a few times to make sure I’m not hallucinating. “What?”
“I know you want me, and you’re aware of the laws surrounding royal marriages. The king chooses our partners, not us. My father might be dead, but I’m certain when I turn twenty, he’ll have somehow figured out a way to come back from the grave to dictate who my husband will be.” She shrugs. “It’s probably a contract signed in blood and locked away in his safe.”
She’s right. Her father left no stone unturned when it came to making arrangements for his children and country. “I don’t know…”
Her fingers play at the buttons on my shirt, and I know I should stop her, but I want to feel her skin on mine. “You’re telling me, you’d turn down an offer from a willing woman? I want you to teach me everything you know, so I’m prepared for life with whomever my royal status dictates I be bound to.”
The thought of her being with any other man sends a curious bolt of anger through me. If I take her, I’m keeping her. Which is why I can’t. “No,” I say, stepping back. “That’s not how this works, princess. I promised your brother I’d look after you, not defile you.”
She frowns and crosses her arms over her chest. “I’m not a little girl anymore, Kingston. I haven’t been for a long time. It just took you a while to notice.”
Oh, I noticed. I fucking noticed. I tried hard not to let myself see what a knockout she had become, but it was impossible. She grabs her purse and buttons her coat. “Where the fuck are you going?” I ask.
Hand on the doorknob, she throws me a death glare over her shoulder. “I saw a pub on the way here. If you won’t take what I’m offering, I’m sure I can find a willing participant.”
Then she’s out the door and striding down the lane, her ass swaying with each step. No. Just…fucking, no. If anyone is going to touch her, it’ll be me. I say a short prayer for strength as I go out into the night to bring back my naughty princess.
Chapter 5
Alina
I really shouldn’t taunt Kingston like this, but it’s simply too much fun. I know exactly how to push his buttons, but it’s a risky game as well. One wrong move and I’ll cause him to explode, and not in a good way. Gravel crunches under my feet as I walk quickly down the long driveway. I know he’ll come for me. He won’t be able to let another man have me. I’ve played poker with him, and he’s a terrible bluffer.
“Alina, stop this,” he calls out from behind me.
Jackpot.
“No, I don’t think so. I’m thirsty.”
His footfalls grow closer as he approaches, and I fight the urge to turn my head, so I can see his ha
ndsome face. “You can’t just go gallivanting around this town alone.”
“Then come with me.”
“You can’t be serious. I am not going with you to find a man who’ll fuck you.”
Now I do turn around. It’s time to lower the hammer. “All right, then. I’ll see you in the morning. I’m sure I’ll be otherwise occupied tonight.”
His jaw clenches, eyes narrow, and when he balls his hands into fists, I know I’ve got him. “The fuck you will.”
Then adrenaline races through me because he comes at me, shoulder first, and in moments I’m hanging down his back, ass in the air, his hands on the backs of my thighs. He carries me inside, not speaking, and I don’t protest. This is what I wanted.
We get inside, and he puts me on my feet, still silent, still tense. “Are you going to say anything?” I ask.
“No.”
He paces the floor, dragging his hands through his hair like a madman. “Kingston—”
“I need a fucking minute, all right?”
God, I didn’t realize how stressed something like this would make him. “Kingston,” I say, stopping him in his tracks with my palms against his broad chest. He locks gazes with me, and the breath leaves my lungs. He’s so beautiful…and torn.
My mind goes to the moment I knew I’d love him forever. I was five years old, and Ryder had told me not to climb the big oak in the meadow. He’d warned me I’d fall and break my neck. But, like always, I had to see for myself. I climbed that sucker, and then I couldn’t get back down. Kingston found me and helped me climb down. He never told a soul.
“This…it’s bigger than you and me, Alina. You’re not just some random fuck.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you. I thought…well, I thought if I could get you alone with me, you’d see that we should be together. I was stupid enough to think you might fall in love with me because I’ve been in love with you since I was five.”
He lets out a long breath. “A crush is not love.”
