Royal Treatment

by Tracy Wolff

  But the second I open the door to the Presidential Suite, I know that’s not going to happen. Because Kian and Savvy are sitting on the couch, feet up on the coffee table and the detritus of a late-afternoon minibar raid all around them.

  “What are you doing here?” I demand as I close the door firmly behind me. If I don’t sound particularly welcoming, it’s because I’ve really been looking forward to spending a low-key evening with Lola. But Netflix-and-chill is one of those things where three’s a crowd and four’s a disaster. I have every right to be a little grumpy.

  Besides, Kian’s way too high maintenance. If I’m not careful, he’ll have the four of us partying ’til dawn at all of the local hot spots, which isn’t exactly the image of cool, collected responsibility I’ve been working so hard to project.

  Then again, it’s not like it matters. Nothing seems to. We shared the poll numbers with the King and all we got was a lecture on polling data being inaccurate on numerous occasions. Oh, and a scolding about abusing the pollsters for our own political gain.

  “Hey, is that any way to greet the brother you haven’t seen in—” He pauses, glancing over at Savvy, who’s smirking at me from where she’s curled up on the couch.

  “Nine whole days.” I fill in the blank before she can. “Considering you used to spend weeks traveling the world and hopping from one party to the next, nine days doesn’t seem like that long.”

  “Yes, well, love has changed me.” He reaches for Savvy’s hand and brings it to his lips. “I’m more open now, more in touch with my feelings. I missed you.”

  “More like you’re more ridiculous now.” I cross to the bar and make myself another drink—normally three is my limit, but it’s starting to look like it’s going to be a long night.

  “Nah,” Savvy tells me with a grin. “He’s always been this ridiculous.”

  “You make a good point.” I hold up a chilled bottle of pinot grigio, her drink of choice when we were dating all those years ago. “Can I pour you some?”

  “God, yes,” she answers. “You can pour me a lot. It’s been a really long day.”

  “Pour me a drink, too, would you?” Kian asks.

  I nod as I splash some tequila on ice, then add a twist of lime the way he likes.

  “So, what are you doing here?” I ask again as I deliver their drinks.

  “Truth? You look so smitten in the recent photographs that I came out here to save you from yourself.”

  Savvy rolls her eyes as she takes the glass of wine I hold out to her. “He came because he’s dying to meet your girl. We both are.”

  “Way to ruin my fun,” Kian tells her with a little pout.

  “I’ll make it up to you later.”

  He grins. “I can’t wait.”

  “Okay, if you two are done with all the sexual innuendos—”

  “I’m never done with that,” Kian interjects.

  “Don’t I know it.” I take a long sip of the whiskey I poured myself.

  “Besides, those weren’t really innuendos. More like straight-up promises for sex. Which I’m also totally okay with. In fact—”

  “Did you actually come all this way to meet Lola? Or did you just want a shot at driving me insane, up close and in person?”

  “All this way?” Savvy asks. “It was a forty-five-minute flight.”

  “You know what I mean. I don’t buy it.” I fix my younger brother by seven minutes with the glare I’ve used to get him to tell the truth pretty much since we learned to talk. “What’s going on?”

  He squirms a little, right on schedule. “Fine. I wanted to check on you.”

  “Check on me?”

  “After the King’s lecture. I know I got your hopes up about the polling data and—”

  “Actually, I think you got your hopes up. I distinctly remember telling you that it wouldn’t work.”

  “Do you always have to be right?” he demands, throwing up his hands. “Even when it goes against your own self-interest?”

  “I would love to be wrong. But the thing is, despite your jaded, man-whore visage, you’re actually the idealist between the two of us. If you were a little more pragmatic, you’d realize that we’re all totally and completely fucked.”

  “I refuse to accept that.”

  “I know you do.” I drain what’s left of my whiskey in one long swallow. “It’s a problem.”

  “No, the problem is your fatalistic attitude. You give up before you even enter the fight and I don’t understand why. You used to be so—”

  Kian breaks off as the front door of the suite opens and Lola comes through it, arms loaded with more garment bags than any one woman should be able to carry.

  I’m across the suite in an instant. “Here, let me help.”

  “Thanks,” she says with a laugh. “I think I got carried away. But the sale was a treasure trove of vintage pieces. Vera’s going to be thrilled when she sees them. In fact, I need to call her and let her know to ex—”

  She stops mid-word, eyes going wide as she looks from Kian to Savvy to me. “I didn’t know we were having company.” Her tone screams that I should have called her. “Did I miss something?”

  For a second, it looks like she’s trying to decide if she should curtsy or not—which is insane considering how she treated me when we first met. In the end, though, she skips the pomp and circumstance and settles for extending a hand to each of them in turn. “It’s so nice to meet you, Kian, Savvy. I’ve heard so much about you from Garrett.”

  “All of it good, I’m sure,” my brother says with a smirk.

  “All of it colorful,” she counters. “Is that good enough?”

  “It’s accurate,” Savvy interjects. “So yes, more than good enough.”

  Lola turns to me then, her unspoken question hanging in the air between us. “Change of plans,” I tell her because the last thing I want to do tonight is get into the reason for Kian’s visit with her. “Tonight you get to see my Paris.”

  Chapter 27

  Lola

  As I look around the suite filled with royals—and one future royal—I can’t help feeling a little bit like I’ve been ambushed. I know it’s ridiculous; I can tell from the look on Garrett’s face that he didn’t have any more of an idea that his brother and future sister-in-law would be showing up in our hotel suite than I did. But he did get back here before I did, and a heads-up would have been nice. All I needed was a minute to compose myself. I don’t think that’s too much to ask. Speaking of which…

  “I guess I’ll go get changed, then.” I glance at Garrett. “Any recommendations on what I need to wear to see your Paris?”

  “I’ll help you find something,” Savvy answers, smiling warmly as she crosses the room to me. “It’ll give us a chance to get to know each other.”

  I smile and nod, because it’s not as if she’s given me a choice. She’s already got her arm linked with mine and is leading me across the suite to the master bedroom. I’m not sure how I feel about her assuming that that’s where I’m staying…even though it is.

  “So, what are the plans for tonight?” I ask as the door closes behind us and I manage to disengage myself from Savvy.

  “Something ridiculous, I’m sure. Kian’s in charge.” She rolls her eyes, but her tone is so full of fond exasperation that I can’t help grinning. Garrett and I may be a match made for the paps, but it’s obvious that Savvy really loves Kian—and just as obvious that he’s crazy about her.

  The thought tugs at me a little, makes me ache for something I know isn’t possible. I’m not royal material and I never will be. And that’s fine, because I’ve never in my wildest dreams wanted to be. Even now, when being with Garrett seems so easy, I have no interest—and no illusions—about being queen. So why does standing here with Savvy, who is obviously completely in love with her own royal hotn
ess, suddenly feel so bittersweet?

  Why does it feel like I’m suddenly facing an end with Garrett when we never even had a beginning? At least, not a real one. Not like the one that Kian and Savvy have obviously got going.

  Still, fake it ’til you make it is pretty much my middle name, so I paste a grin on my face and ask, “What does one wear in royal circles when being ridiculous?”

  Savvy wiggles her brows. “Something that will knock two pairs of royal socks off, obviously.”

  She crosses to the closet where I’ve been keeping my stuff and it’s obvious she’s familiar with the room—probably because she and Kian stay in this very suite when they visit Paris. It feels strange to think of it, not because it matters to me that they’ve used this suite before, but because everything is so well thought out. So steeped in pomp and circumstance and tradition and security, so that something as simple as what room you get at a hotel or what restaurant you eat at is a major deal with major implications.

  I haven’t noticed it these last few days with Garrett—at least, not since he explained why we have to stay here. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t there, right under the surface. It just means he’s hiding it from me to make me feel more comfortable.

  The knowledge hits hard, and it has me wondering what else he does to try to make this whole in-the-limelight thing easier for me. Which, in turn, just makes me feel worse. He’s the one who is on the brink of losing everything he’s ever worked for. He’s the one who survived months of torture and physical therapy. He’s the one who still has nightmares that leave him drenched with sweat. And yet, he’s the one protecting me?

  God. I couldn’t be less suited for this job, less suited for Garrett, if I tried.

  I guess it’s a good thing our whole relationship is a fraud, then, isn’t it? No matter how real it sometimes feels.

  “What about this dress?” Savvy says, holding up a wine-colored bandage dress that hugs my curves like a second skin. It’s one of my favorites, but I haven’t worn it since this thing with Garrett started because it’s more evil queen than fairy-tale princess.

  “Isn’t it a bit much?” I ask.

  “Sometimes that’s the point, isn’t it?” She gives me a wicked grin. “Watching Garrett’s eyes bug out of his head when you walk out in this is going to make my whole week!”

  “What are you going to wear?”

  “Oh, I’ve got a little something up my sleeve. Kian’s a lot harder to shock than Garrett, but I can still manage it when I put my mind to it.” She hands me the dress. “I’ll be right back.”

  I’m still standing there, staring at the sexiest dress I own and wondering if it’s really appropriate for me to wear it tonight, considering I’m the (pretend) girlfriend of His Royal Hotness, Gorgeous Garrett of Wildemar. Almost every picture I’ve seen of Savvy in the months since she and Kian got together has shown her in an outfit a lot less sexy than this. Especially since she’s tall and willowy instead of all curves like I am.

  She comes back a couple of minutes later, garment bag in hand. “I got this dress a few months ago and have been dying to wear it. And what better time than a double date with Wildemar’s Royal Hotnesses?”

  Her amusement is infectious, and I find myself grinning as she unzips the bag and pulls out a midnight-blue dress with spaghetti straps and a plunging V neckline in both front and back. It’s Bao Tranchi, I’m sure of it, and absolutely gorgeous.

  I reach out a hand to touch it before I can think better of it. I’ve been wanting to get my hands on a couple of these to sell on Va Voom Vintage, but women who buy Bao Tranchi tend to hang on to the dresses instead of reselling them. And, as I stand here looking at this dress—and the obvious joy it brings Savvy—I can see why. Bao Tranchi has a gift for making a woman feel beautiful, feminine, and powerful all at the same time.

  “It’s gorgeous,” I tell her.

  “Isn’t it? I don’t normally pay that much attention to clothes, but the moment I saw this, I knew I had to have it.”

  “It’s going to look amazing on you.” I can already see it. “You should wear your hair slicked back and do a really smoky eye with it. Kian won’t be able to keep his hands off of you.”

  “That’s what I’m counting on!” she says with a laugh. “We’ve both been so busy lately with Wildemar and the wedding and everything with Garrett that we haven’t taken time to just go on a date and enjoy ourselves. I’m really looking forward to tonight.”

  “Then why are you inviting Garrett and me along? You’re in Paris! Shouldn’t you two do something wildly romantic all on your own?”

  “And pass up the chance to meet the girl that has Garrett spinning around himself? I don’t think so.”

  “Oh, no. It’s not like that. Garrett and I are…” I trail off, not sure how to classify what Garrett and I are. We’re friends and we’re lovers, but we’re also in the middle of a fake relationship for the benefit of the press and the Wildemarian public. Talk about complicated! Is there any wonder I’m confused?

  “Trust me. I’ve known Garrett for years and he has never talked about or treated a woman the way he does you. When we were together, he—”

  “Wait. You and Garrett were together? When?”

  Savvy freezes, eyes wide and mouth open, like she’s suddenly forgotten how her facial muscles work.

  “I thought you knew,” she says eventually. “It’s not a big deal. It was a long time ago, and we were really more friends than anything else.”

  “How is this not more of a big deal in the press? The fact that you’ve dated both heirs to the Wildemarian throne?”

  “Oh, because Garrett kept me a secret when we were dating.”

  “A secret.” I wonder if I sound as appalled as I feel.

  “Yeah.” She sighs, running a hand through her hair. “I was an exchange student when we met. Half theater gypsy, half nomad, I wasn’t exactly who the Crown Prince of Wildemar should be caught dating—especially since he was publicly paired up with Felicity at the time.”

  “Felicity. The fiancée he broke up with after the abduction.”

  Savvy looks uncomfortable. “Yes, but—”

  “You were with him when he was engaged to her?” This is sounding worse and worse.

  “That’s just it. He wasn’t actually engaged to her. It was an arranged kind of thing, something their parents had planned when they were young that neither cared enough about to publicly put a stop to, even though they knew they didn’t have feelings for each other. When Garrett was rescued, though, I think he decided he wanted a clean slate. He wanted to bow out of all the fake stuff from before and—”

  She breaks off, and how can I blame her? Garrett’s and my whole “relationship” is a fake stunt meant to garner positive attention from the press and put pressure on his father. Which is pretty much the opposite of genuine, but I guess he’s not one to quibble when the throne is on the line.

  Still, though it’s technically none of my business and I shouldn’t care one way or the other, I’m reeling from this sudden influx of information. I knew that Garrett was engaged before, to some daughter of Wildemarian nobility, but since she was out of his life before I met him, I haven’t given her much thought. But to find out that he dated Savvy? That he kept her a secret? And that she’s now set to marry his brother? It’s like every soap opera about the rich and famous rolled into one.

  Which feels a little sleazy, if I’m being honest. More, it makes me feel sleazy and I hate that. I’ve spent most of my adult life trying to outrun the feeling, trying to forget what it was like to be my father’s dirty little extramarital secret.

  “So, you were okay with being Garrett’s secret?” The words came out before I could stop them and instantly I wish I could call them back. They sound way ruder than I intended, way more questioning than I have a right to be considering my role in this whole ov
erblown production.

  “I wasn’t, actually. It’s just that, at the time, I didn’t feel I had much of a choice. I wanted to be with Garrett and there was no way that could happen publicly. Not when there was a chance that it might somehow harm Wildemar. So…”

  “So, he kept you hidden.” I don’t know whether I’m angry or horrified. Probably a little of both. His relationship with Savvy was real and he kept her his dirty little secret. His relationship with Felicity—and now with me—is fake, and the whole world gets to see it.

  It feels so much like my father’s relationship with my mother that my stomach rolls a little sickly.

  Some of what I’m feeling must be showing on my face, because Savvy suddenly turns white. “Garrett’s a good guy, Lola. He is. What he’s done, he’s done because Wildemar demands it of him. I never held it against him that we couldn’t be together publicly, and I never would. The duty he has…it’s more than most normal people could even imagine.”

  “Kian looks like he’s managed pretty well.”

  She laughs. “Kian’s a mess, actually. He’s so anxious for Garrett to be first in line for the throne again that he’ll do literally anything to make it happen, including—”

  “Including setting up this whole thing with me.” There’s no malice in my words. After all, I’ve known from the beginning that this whole public relationship thing was Kian’s idea. Without his interference, Garrett and I would have parted company after that first night and that would have been that. My merch wouldn’t be selling faster than I can list it right now, but at least I’d be able to walk down the street without security guards. My every move wouldn’t be documented in the pages of tabloids around the world. And I wouldn’t be falling in love with a man whose first duty will always be to his country, a man whose duty will never let him see me as more than a stepping-stone to the throne.

  The last thought sneaks in unbidden, its revelation enough to have me sitting down hard on the side of the bed.