by Eden Finley
My eyes found Xander’s firm—and very naked—ass first. My brain tried to catch up to what I was seeing, but it’d been short-circuited by feminine moans … recognisable ones.
D’s legs were wrapped around Xander’s waist as he thrust into her over and over again. His muscles flexed with every move.
Damn, the palace had thick walls. D was loud. I should’ve been able to hear her from the hallway. Her long blonde hair was splayed across the pillow, and the look of lust on her face made my cock stand to attention. Then her eyes met mine and widened in shock. Or maybe it was recognition.
Shit. I cleared my throat. “I’ll be waiting outside.”
“Roman, wait,” Xander said. He climbed off the bed and stood there only wearing a smirk. I forced myself to keep eye contact with him and not what was going on down south. “Care to join us?”
I choked on a laugh. “Aaand I’m back. Like old times, huh? I’ll be outside when you’re done.”
“No, wait—”
But I didn’t. I had to get out of there before I repeated the same mistake I did last week. As soon as I hit the hallway, I wanted to bend at the waist and suck in a deep breath, but Bryant was there looking at me with a suspicious frown on his face, so I remained upright but struggling to breathe.
“He … uh, was occupied.”
Bryant’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.
I shrugged it off. “Nothing like some hazing to welcome me back.”
Bryant glanced at the carved wooden doors of Cordelia’s bedroom and then back at me. Stepping forward, he lowered his voice and said, “How did you do this job for two years? Seriously.”
“What do you mean?” Xander was the easiest job I’d had since joining the royal guard.
“He drinks so much at functions I’ve had to carry him out before. He’s determined to piss off the king, and that reflects badly on us because we let it get that far. His attitude is always surly, he pushes boundaries … he skipped out on us last week. Anything could’ve happened to him, and he doesn’t care. I almost got fired over that stunt. So, please, tell me how you—a twenty-seven-year-old rookie—got him to behave.”
“It’s not hard. Treat him like a human instead of a prince. Let him be himself. Rein him in if he’s determined to do something dangerous, but for fuck’s sake, he’s not a pet.”
“Let him put himself in danger? After his parents and sister were assassinated?”
I shook my head. “Xander never did anything reckless when I worked for him. He never slipped detail, he didn’t go anywhere high risk, and you know why? Because I respected him enough to let him do his own thing. If he wanted to go visit his … friends, I let him. You’re his bodyguard, not his keeper.”
“That was before he was the crown prince. Things are different now.”
“Then he’s going to give you nothing but trouble.”
Delia
I sat up in bed and covered myself with the sheet. “Was that—”
“Our Cinderella? Yup.” Xander’s face was smug.
“You knew the whole time he was your security detail?” I slipped out of bed and started dressing.
“Where are you going? We’re not done yet.”
“We’re going to be late for your public appearance. Shouldn’t have let you come near me in the first place.” As soon as I let him into my room earlier, his mouth was on mine, and there was something about Xander that made my responsible side forget it existed. Just because I played hard didn’t mean I wasn’t smart about it. Usually. Having sex with His Royal Highness with the door unlocked wasn’t smart. If it hadn’t been our Cinderella, it could’ve been anyone.
I ran my hands through my hair which was now tangled with I-just-got-fucked curls. “Oooh, your grandmother is going to have me beheaded. My hair’s a mess. Definitely not publicity op ready.” I pulled it into my usual messy bun.
“So, we’ll be late. My plan was to spend the next hour in bed. The three of us. Also, Nanna hasn’t ordered a beheading in at least two years. I think you’re safe.”
“Right. About that—uh, Cinderella. Why didn’t you tell me you knew who he was?”
“I didn’t. At least, not the other night. He was my bodyguard for two years before I became the crown prince. I hadn’t seen him in over a year, he was wearing a mask, and he’s bulked out since I last saw him. It wasn’t until he walked away that it clicked.”
I turned to face him, but he was still naked, so I had to turn back again or getting dressed wouldn’t be happening. “You know, most girls would be pissed to have you spring another guy on her like that. I wasn’t expecting it.”
Footsteps came closer, and he wrapped his arms around me from behind. His still hard dick pressed against my back. “You’re not like most girls, and I know you loved it. I almost came when you first spotted him. You got this hot and sexy look in your eye, and your pussy clenched around my cock so tight.”
I pulled away from him, needing distance from his wandering hands and his words because we were already late. “What were you expecting? That he’d jump in? It’s clear he didn’t want you to know who he was the other night.”
“I figured now he’d had a taste of us, he wouldn’t have been able to refuse. He’s stubborn, that’s for sure.”
I shook my head. “Men. You’re completely clueless. He probably thinks his job’s in jeopardy. When you asked him to join, he said like old times. Meaning, you’d asked him before?”
“To be fair, this was the first time I was serious. I spent two years thinking he was straight. It was a running joke between us.”
“Okay, so he probably thinks you were joking again. He might not realise we know it was him the other night. You don’t just spring that shit on a guy. You don’t let your crazy show so soon.”
“Then what do you suggest?” he asked.
“Let me handle it. Right now, you need to get dressed.” I slipped my crumpled—but properly conservative—dress over my head. It was royal blue, past the knee, and had a V-neck that showed off some cleavage but was still appropriate.
“Fine,” he huffed, “but I’m blaming my blue balls on you for the rest of the day.”
With a demure smile, I approached and gave him a soft kiss. “I’ll make it up to you later. Maybe on my knees.”
Xander groaned. “Did I mention I hate you right now?”
“Good. Angry sex is hot.”
“Then let’s get started.” He reached for my dress.
“Later. We have to go. And while you dress, you need to tell me everything you know about Cinderella so I’ll know how to approach him without freaking him out.”
Sitting in the back of an armoured SUV with Roman by my side, I kept my public personality on display. My legs were crossed at the ankle, my hands in my lap, and a shy smile on my face.
As suspected, someone with a curling iron attacked me before they let me leave the palace, so my hair was down and perfectly styled. I needed to look queen-approved for Xander’s and my first official outing.
My stomach fluttered with nerves. Not because of the publicity op—I’d done things like this before but on a much smaller scale. It was nerve-wracking to wonder if tomorrow all my deepest secrets would be revealed in the press. By agreeing to be Xander’s companion for the summer, my whole life was going to be under the microscope. Hell, they’d probably dig up things about me I didn’t even know. I wasn’t looking forward to that part.
“So, what’s protocol when we get there?” I asked. “I stick to your side like glue?”
Roman refused to look at me when he answered. “Uh, no, you’ll be by the prince’s side, and we’ll be in the background. When he’s not with you, myself or one of your other assigned detail will be with you.”
“I guess I have a lot to learn.”
“How long have you and the prince been dating?”
“This is our first official date.”
“What was—” He slammed his mouth shut. Was he about to out himself and ask about t
he other night?
“What was?” I prompted.
“Nothing. Sorry you couldn’t ride with the prince. New protocol.”
“To split people up?”
Roman cleared his throat. “Usually, couples aren’t split, but, uh, yeah. Since last year …”
His awkwardness was strangely adorable. I liked my men confident like Xander, but there was something charming about a muscled meathead stuttering for words. I didn’t know if it was because of the ugliness of our conversation topic or because he was trying to forget walking in on Xander and me earlier.
“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice low and innocent. “About what happened in my room. We, uh, got a bit carried away and didn’t realise the time.”
“It’s all right, miss. Not the first time I’ve walked in on Xander. He should learn to lock doors.”
Miss. Hmm. Nope, didn’t like that. “You can call me Delia.”
He cracked a smile. “Of course. Delia. With a D.”
“Is there a reason you’re so interested in the initial of my nickname?” Maybe if I gave a little push, he’d admit to being in that club with us.
Roman eyed me warily before shaking his head. “Nope. I was going to ask how the prince is doing, but I guess you wouldn’t know if you haven’t spent much time with him.”
“How he’s doing?”
“I was with him when … when he found out about his family, and he took it really hard. A week later, I was reassigned. I wondered about him, is all.”
“What’s Xander like?” I asked. “I only know what I’ve seen in tabloids and heard from other women Xander would call crown chasers.”
“You’d know him better than me,” Roman said. “We weren’t close when I worked for him. It’s the royal guards’ job to be invisible.” He was so lying. His words may have come out nonchalant, but his stiff shoulders said otherwise.
“But you spent nearly every day with the man for two years. You must know something. I’ve known him personally for about a week.”
Roman stared out the window as he talked. “He hates his title being used as a weapon against him, so if you get mad at him, don’t call him Your Highness or Prince Alexander. If he’s doing something he loves like target shooting, playing soccer, or polo, he hates being reminded of his royal status. Those rare moments of normalcy are all he gets. The rest is obligation to his country. He’s always dreamed of a normal life, but responsibility was instilled in him from birth. He might not have been in contention for the crown originally, but he’s always played an important part in his family. He loved his parents, adored his sister, and he hates his grandfather. He will take the crown because it’s what his family would have wanted, but this last year, I’ve often wondered if he’s freaking out about the whole thing.”
“Holy motherfucking shit,” I whispered.
The car swerved, and the bodyguard in the front passenger seat snorted. That was a usual reaction for anyone hearing me swear for the first time. No one ever expected it.
“What?” Roman asked.
“I was thinking you’d tell me more along the lines like his favourite colour is blue, but you went deep.”
Roman tried to hide a smile, while the guards up front went back to pretending they weren’t eavesdropping.
Roman just played his hand. He was totally in love with Xander. It made sense. Xander said Roman was standoffish when he worked his detail. If I had to be close to the guy I was falling for without being able to touch him for two years, I’d be irritable too. Wearing that mask at the club was his excuse to go for what he’d wanted all that time but couldn’t have.
“It’s obvious you care about your job, and you must be good at it to be that observant,” I said. “I can see why Xander told me he’d never escape your detail. You don’t need to worry about me; I’ve already been warned to play nice with you. Apparently, the king wasn’t too happy to learn I was an accomplice to the prince losing his handlers last week.”
“Impressive feat.” Roman smiled.
“I’ll make sure to keep you on your toes.” The statement, while innocent enough for those in the front, made Roman’s eyes spark with heat. Or perhaps it was fear.
Maybe I needed to tell Xander to let Roman off the hook and pretend our night together didn’t happen. If the king were to find out what we got up to, Roman would lose his job. Both he and Xander stood to lose something if word got out. I was all about the partying and having fun but not at the cost of taking away something that was obviously important to Roman. Xander said his grandfather would somehow disown him, but I doubted that was true. A forceful abdication of the throne would’ve been more likely, and from what Roman just said, Xander might’ve preferred that.
“I promise I won’t cause you any trouble,” I said, trying to reassure him.
Roman huffed a sad laugh and mumbled, “You already are.”
Xander
“My queen,” I whispered as I helped Delia out of the back of her car. As soon as she was on her feet, I had to let go. Royals didn’t show affection in public.
The awaiting media was across the street in a cordoned off area, and the clicking of cameras tried to deafen us, even from the other side of the road.
“Don’t make me roll my eyes with all those cameras over there.” Her skill at hardly moving her lips while talking through a smile was impressive.
“You know that’s what these reporters are currently tweeting. Prince Alexander on a date can only mean we’re completely head over heels in love.”
Delia scanned the area, disguising her suspicious glare towards the reporters as a doe-eyed socialite not used to media attention. “Remember these vultures are lip readers,” she said, her smile still in place. “You don’t want to make them go into a frenzy.”
“A frenzy could be fun.”
“If you want to give your grandfather a heart attack,” she said.
“Major downfall to that plan would be having to take over. I’m nowhere near ready for that.”
“And now that you’ve possibly given them a scoop, how about you escort me to whatever this is.”
I led the way towards the old castle that sat on the grounds of the capital city’s botanical gardens. “It’s a library opening. Thought I’d take you to your homeland.”
“A library?” she whispered.
“You know, because you dress like a librarian.”
Delia shook her head. “No, I mean, why is there a library opening? You know they got eBooks now, right?”
“It’s more like a library re-opening, though it never closed. It’s a long story. I’ll explain inside.”
“Granddad’s got you working on the important stuff, huh?”
Delia had no idea. This was my own project, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. I’d let her believe I was on the positive image PR trail. Future king kissing orphans and whatnot.
“We won’t be here long. There’s more media inside for a press conference. I’ll give a speech, answer some questions, and then we’ll get out of here.” I leaned in. “Go back to bed.”
“If you’re trying to make me blush, it won’t work.”
I forgot my girl’s innocent image was all for show. And as I thought about what else was mine, my eyes went to Roman who was trailing us. His taut muscles filled out his suit, and his natural swagger could make a prince drool. I gave him a nod and turned to Delia. “I’m going to leave you in the hands of Roman now.”
The exterior was lined with the royal guard, and inside, the invited media were already in their seats waiting for me. They were lucky they only had to wait forty minutes. If it were up to me, we would’ve been a lot later.
Trisha, the head of PR for the palace, greeted me off to the side and gave me the rundown of how it would go even though I’d already been briefed on it yesterday.
As I took to the podium, I gazed over at Delia and Roman. My hand twitched, wanting to reach into my pocket and fidget with the cufflink I found on the ground at the club after R
oman left. For the past week, it had sat in my pocket, reminding me of possibly the best night of my life.
At that club, with those masks on, it wasn’t Prince Alexander, Lady Cordelia Hillington, and Roman Elliot, the bodyguard. I was just Xander, living without obligation, without expectation, and hooking up with two people I found devastatingly attractive. It didn’t matter their gender or their social status. They were my escape from the one thing that had weighed me down my whole life.
I knew the cufflink was Roman’s—he’d told me the story of his dad when he was my guard—and I planned to give it back to him at the right moment. I was going to make Roman crack; he’d be with us again, but as someone in the audience cleared their throat, I realised now wasn’t the time to figure out how to get him to agree to being with Delia and me. I needed to focus on my speech.
I addressed the room, talked about the importance of all citizens deserving the best education no matter their intelligence level or financial status. I introduced them to the University of Ashwick’s new program where it turned the city library into a community centre where students would give their time to tutor elementary and high school students. All of this didn’t bother me because I was passionate about the project.
What did bother me was when it got to the question and answer portion and not one of them was about the community centre.
“This is your first time addressing the media as crown prince of Ashwick. Why now?” the first reporter asked. I made a mental note to cross him off any future invite lists. Dictatorish? Maybe. Did I care? Not one bit.
It was true I hadn’t done any interviews in the last year. If it wasn’t Grandfather and Nanna addressing the media, it was Trisha who had spoken for the royal family in regards to the attack and the loss of the crown prince and princess.
I cleared my throat and spoke with conviction. “This project was dear to my sister’s heart. It’s important to me that this succeeds and the children—the future of this country—get the best education available.”
“The Twittersphere is blowing up with rumours of a royal wedding,” a woman said.
