The Virgin's Forbidden Lord (The Royal Virgins Book 3)

by Kim Loraine

  My phone chimes with a Twitter alert, the sound disturbing my music. Then another comes, and another—over and over, until I have to stop running if only to turn off my notifications. My heart sinks when I read the tweets. Some are complimentary.

  May/December romance for Lord Haverford and Princess Alina. So sweet. I knew they were in love. #Linston #PrinceKingston

  Married in secret like Romeo & Juliet. #Swoon #IwantyourbabiesLordHaverford

  Others, not so much.

  Gross, he’s like older than #KingRyder. #Cradlerobber #Oldguy

  Did he kidnap her and brainwash her first? What’s the king going to say? #Banishmentcomingrightup

  The posts go on and on, but the ones that really bother me are those with pictures of us in the church saying our vows. In the church. How invasive are the paparazzi going to be?

  My phone rings, and time stops for a moment as I see Ryder’s name show up on my screen.

  “Your Majesty,” I say, taking a deep breath to steady myself after.

  “Don’t fucking give me polite and proper right now. You married her. You married my little sister. What the fuck, Kingston?”

  “I don’t want to do this over the phone.”

  “And I don’t want to wait to talk to you. I can’t believe you married her without discussing it with me first.”

  I sit on a bench and drag my free hand through my hair. “I’m in love with her.”

  Ducks quack in the distance, and memories of Alina feeding them with a smile on her face and the sun shining in her hair flood me. “Are you at the damned duck pond?”

  “Yeah. I needed to get out, clear my head.”

  “Sit tight. I’ll be right there.”

  The line goes dead, and I do the only thing I can. I wait for my king to hand me his verdict. Either I’ll be banished or, hopefully, I’ll be allowed to keep my wife.

  The crunch of feet on gravel pulls my attention from the cloud I’d been focused on. I’m surprised to see Alina walking arm in arm with Ryder.

  Standing, I offer them both a bow, and my wife grins at me.

  “As you know, Lord Haverford, my sisters both have pre-arranged marriage contracts. These are unfortunately archaic practices, but they are unbreakable bonds as per our laws.”

  It’s true. Princess Waverly was only able to get out of hers because her intended was a traitor. Ryder holds out a leather folder and waits for me to take it.

  “What’s this?”

  “Alina’s marriage contract.”

  The lump sitting in my throat is tight and heavy. I feel vaguely ill and desperately angry that she’s promised to someone else.

  “Do you realize how incredibly short sighted it is to arrange another person’s marriage? You got lucky, but most of these unions end up leaving both parties unsatisfied and unfaithful.” I know I’m arguing too much, but seeing her name attached to another man’s makes everything in me go blind with rage.

  “Just open the damn folder, Kingston,” Ryder says.

  I flip open the top and read the elegant script.

  I hereby decree the future union of my daughter, Alina Penelope Estrella, Princess of Corline, in marriage to Kingston Reginald Masters, Lord Haverford. This union is law and shall not be broken save under the event of a death of one of the parties.

  The contract is signed by both the former king and my own father, dated sixteen years ago.

  “He never told me,” I murmur. “My bastard of a father never told me he sold me to the king.”

  Alina laughs and swats me. “That’s what you’re taking away from this? We’ve been engaged since I was five. Don’t you understand? We didn’t do anything wrong getting married aside from depriving my mother of another wedding to plan.”

  I flick my gaze to Ryder, standing with his arms crossed and brow furrowed. “We did sneak off and get married.”

  “I kidnapped you first,” she argues.

  “That you did.” I dip my head and address Ryder. “Your Majesty, do we have your blessing to…continue being married?”

  Ryder laughs. “Of course, you idiot. Besides, Alina always gets what she wants. At least this time it’s one of the best men I know. Although my mum won’t be too happy to find out the two of you eloped.”

  “Speaking of mum…”Alina starts, but trails off.

  The queen mother rounds the corner of the duck pond, her expression hopping mad and the event planner in tow.

  “I guess we might be having a big wedding after all,” I say.

  Alina threads our fingers together. “I guess that means we get a second wedding night.”

  I can’t hide my smile. “That sounds absolutely perfect to me.”

  I kiss her then, right in front of the king, their mother, and the damned ducks. I claim her as mine, and don’t care who sees. Alina is my princess, my wife, and I’ll shout my love from the rooftops. Forever.

  Epilogue

  Alina

  Three years later

  “Sophie, darling, come to mummy,” I croon to my two-year-old daughter. She’s running toward me in the sunshine as Kingston and I sit next to the pond feeding ducks. Her smile is wide, making her eyes shine, a matching blue to her daddy’s. In fact, the girl looks exactly like her father, with tawny hair that glistens in the sun and a mouth that can turn up in a wicked grin or the perfect pout when she’s trying to win me over.

  “Mummy, feed ducks! Feed ducks,” she demands, hands on her hips as she points to the pond where the ducks are unfortunately eating the last of the food we brought.

  “Oh, darling, I’m so sorry. We have no more food for them.”

  Her lower lip pushes out into that pout I’ve learned to resist—but just barely. I look at my husband who smiles at me and leans in to whisper, “I’ll go get more.”

  After kissing him lightly, I train my focus back on her, and with a palm under my enormous pregnant belly, I heft myself to my feet. “Come on, love, why don’t we walk around the lake and take a look at the ducks since we can’t feed them?”

  “Are you sure you’ll be all right?” Kingston asks, a note of worry in his tone. I’m a week overdue with our twins and have been doing everything possible to sign their eviction notice.

  “Yes, go on. Sophie needs to feed some ducks.” I grin at him. “Besides, since we can’t do anything else that might induce labor, a walk will be good for me.”

  Desire lights his eyes at the subtle hint of sex. “Nap time is only an hour away.”

  My whole body lights up with need for him, my handsome husband, the man I’ll continue loving for the rest of my life. “If we’re lucky.”

  He winks. “Oh, we’re definitely lucky, princess. You and I are the luckiest people in the world.”

  I giggle, making Sophie laugh along with me. “Hurry up with the food. We want to see the ducklings.”

  “Ducklings!” Sophie’s delighted cry makes my heart swell.

  Her little hand fits into mine like it was made to be there, and I suppose it was. “Let’s go find them.” We walk slowly, stopping to look in the tall grass at the edges of the pond for nests. Sophie chatters in her mostly indiscernible baby speech. I’ve gotten good at translating, but it’s still hard sometimes. The twins kick and roll inside me, making me smile and then wince when one of them gets in a kidney shot.

  Gentle squeezes tighten my belly, and I use my free hand to rub at the outward press of one of the babies. Then there’s pain in combination with the tightness, and I have to stop walking to catch my breath. Sophie pulls on me, trying to get me to come along with her. When the contraction fades, I go with her, pretending nothing out of the ordinary is happening. I don’t want to scare her, but I’m fairly certain she’s about to be a big sister.

  We stroll for a solid ten minutes, and I’m getting antsy because Kingston still hasn’t returned. Another contraction begins to build, and, this time, I have to breathe through it. Glancing out on the horizon, my heart leaps at the sight of my husband striding toward us. The loo
k on my face must tell him exactly what’s going on because he starts running for us.

  “Are you all right?” he asks, placing a hand on my belly.

  I nod and murmur, “A few contractions. Don’t want to jinx it though. Remember how many times I thought I was in labor with Sophie?”

  A low chuckle leaves him, and he bends down to scoop our toddler into his arms. “Yes, and you were so much trouble, little princess.” He tickles her, and she squeals in delight. Then he places her on his hip and holds her to him. “But so wonderfully worth it. Are you ready for your baby brothers to come?”

  She smiles at him and pats his cheek. “Ducks,” she states.

  He laughs, reaching into his pocket for the special food we have for the water fowl. Sophie takes a handful and tosses it into the water, giggling when the ducklings race to eat. Another pain grips me, and, this time, I grab onto his arm for support.

  “Oh, mummy! Mess!” Sophie’s chastisement draws my attention from the pain to the wetness running down my legs.

  “I’d better call the nanny to come get Sophie,” Kingston says, his tone calm, but excitement and fear in his eyes. “We’re about to become a family of five.”

  Hours later I’m exhausted and euphoric at the same time. Two healthy baby girls rather than the boys we were expecting are nestled in my arms and my husband is smiling down on us.

  “These two were quite the surprise,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss me. “Willful from the start, just like their mother.”

  “I’d say you’ve got your hands full with all these women.”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way, princess.” He waggles his eyebrows and grins. “Besides, trying for a boy will be so much fun.”

  “Let’s take it one day at a time,” I tease. “I just gave you a two-for-one.”

  “I can’t help it. I told you, once we started I wouldn’t be able to stop wanting you. I’ll always want you, Alina. Every day of my life.”

  I smile, and my heart melts as he takes one of the babies from my arms.

  He looks down at her little face, and his eyes shine with unshed tears. “You’ve given me more than I could’ve ever hoped for. You’ve changed the meaning of the word family for me.”

  “I love you, Kingston.”

  “Always,” he says, settling on the bed and running his fingers through my hair. “Forever.”

  Also by Kim Loraine

  Contemporary Romance

  Until the Stars Fade (FREE)

  The Royal Virgins

  The Virgin’s Playboy Prince

  The Virgin’s Royal Guard

  The Virgin’s Forbidden Lord

  The Virgins

  The Virgin’s Fake Fiancé

  Rescuing His Virgin

  His Hollywood Virgin

  The Cocktail Girls

  His Whiskey Sour (A Stand Alone Rock Star Romance)

  The Golden Beach Series

  Restoration

  Renovation

  Foundation

  Resonance

  Redemption

  Resolution

  Devotion

  Remnants

  Paranormal Romance

  The Siren Coven

  Eternal Desire

  Cursed Heart

  The Fallen Angel Trilogy

  Waking the Watcher (FREE)

  Denying the Watcher

  Releasing the Watcher

  Acknowledgments

  I write because I love it, but also because I want to make my readers smile like so many authors have done for me. There are always people I count on for honest feedback and help managing my crazy life. Rachel, Allison, and Misty in particular. Thanks so much for always making time to read my chapters and for your honest feedback.

  My husband, kids, and family. Thanks for letting me get away to write.

  My writing group. Thanks for keeping me on track.

  Wendy. Thanks for always finding time for me.

  My Loraine Lovers and my Coven! You guys are so fantastic.

  Also, thanks to Emily and the team at Social Butterfly. You guys have been on it from the beginning and I appreciate you!

  Lastly, thank you readers. Without you, there wouldn’t be a place for all these virgins.

  xoxo

  Kim

  Sneak Peek

  The Virgin’s Fake Fiance

  Nothing’s better than a hot British guy…especially if he’s just asked you to be his fake fiancé.

  The Virgins Series

  The Virgin’s Fake Fiancé

  Chapter 1

  Charity

  The driver pulls up to the hotel, and, I swear to God, my chest feels like it's going to explode with anxiety. Instead of getting out, I sit in the town car— the scent of stale cigarette smoke and leather seats making me mildly nauseous.

  "Hey, lady. We're here. You can sit there all you want, but you gotta pay for it." My driver's strong New York accent reminds me I'm not in Montana anymore.

  "Sorry," I mutter, rifling through my purse until I find my wallet. I grab a twenty and hand it to him, but he raises an eyebrow.

  "I'm not a taxi driver. It's fifty from the airport."

  Panic lances my chest. Fifty? I should've just taken a taxi. In a rush of anxiety, I start digging around in my bag, searching for more money. I know I have it, but there's nothing in my wallet.

  "Come on, lady." He's annoyed, and I'm rushing.

  "Hold this," I say, handing him my wallet and searching deeper in the handbag. Then I remember my suitcase in the back. I'd tucked an extra hundred in the secret inside pocket because I don't like to have all my cash in one place. "Can you make change? I have more cash in my bag."

  He nods, and I get out of the car, making my way to the trunk to grab my suitcase. But the driver pulls back into traffic faster than I can holler, "Hey! Wait!"

  I run after him, hoping he'll see me and slow down, but it's no use. He's lost in a sea of cars and busses, and it's all I can do to keep from screaming in frustration. Taking a deep breath, I force myself to calm down. I fight back the hot tears burning my eyes. I will not burst into hysterics on the streets of Manhattan.

  It's not the end of the world. I can call the car company. Tell them what happened. Tell them the guy stole my suitcase. Panic rises again, but I push it down. No. It's going to be fine. I'm sure the guy will return my bag. What I need now is a shower to wash away this day.

  The hotel lobby is bright and clean, with high ceilings and marble floors. Swanky is the word my dad would have used. He was a cowboy, through and through, and he never understood why I wanted to be in the city so badly. It's everything I love. The hum of life, people rushing from place to place, tourists exploring with excited expressions, movies and television shows being filmed. There's always something happening here. Montana is peaceful and slow. Perfect for some—not me. But that doesn't mean I get to stay here. I've got a dying farm waiting for me when I get back. Until then, I'm going to enjoy my time in the city.

  "Welcome to The Stanton Hotel," the concierge says as I approach the desk. "Do you have a reservation?"

  I smile, brushing my hair away from my face. I must look like a hot mess after chasing down the car. "I do. Charity Baker."

  He offers me a patronizing smile and starts typing. "I'll need a photo ID and a credit card."

  My hand goes to my purse immediately, digging through the large bag in search of my wallet. "One second, sorry. I just had it in the car."

  I continue searching. Why do I have such an enormous handbag? Anxiety creeps up my spine when I still haven't found the candy pink Kate Spade wallet I'd bought myself three seasons ago as a graduation gift. I plop my bag on the counter, and the concierge frowns. "It's here somewhere." I laugh nervously and remember my utter stupidity in the car. I handed the guy my wallet. I handed him my wallet and as good as asked him to rob me. I'd been so concerned about my suitcase I forgot he had my wallet in his hand.

  He doesn't look sympathetic. "Miss. I can't ch
eck you in without identification and a major credit card."

  Oh, God. I think I'm going to cry. This guy doesn't look like the type who cares. Crying won't help my case. "I…the driver stole my wallet and suitcase. I don't…" My stupid voice wobbles with every word.

  "Charlie, what's all this then?" A deep, masculine voice fills my ears, his posh English accent covering me like a warm blanket.

  "Oh, Mr. Harper. Everything's fine. This young lady doesn't have her ID. I was just explaining that we can't—"

  "What's your name, love?" Mr. Harper asks. He turns his gaze on me, deep blue eyes penetrating the last of my resolve. The man is gorgeous. He's probably in his early thirties, tall, built, with a chiseled jaw that would rival Superman.

  "Wow," I whisper before I can stop myself.

  His eyebrows rise, and a smile spreads his kissable mouth. "Pardon?"

  Pulling it together, I clear my throat. "Charity. My name is Charity Baker, and I've had a reservation for months. My driver took my stuff. God, I was such an idiot to be so trusting. He drove off as soon as I got out."

  "I see." He stares at me, that smile still present, but there's heat in his gaze. "Charlie, please check Miss Baker in. I'll cover her until she's able to retrieve her wallet. Charity, do you have the license plate number of the car? The company name?"

  I frown, trying to recall. "Blue Star Town Cars. That was the name on his dashboard. I don't remember the plate number."

  "We'll find their number."

  To my surprise, Charlie nods and starts typing. In moments, he's handing me my plastic key card and telling me he hopes I enjoy my stay. Relief hits me as soon as I turn away from the desk. "Thank you," I say to my rescuer. "That was really nice of you."