“I’m glad you came tonight,” she said, raising her gaze to his, looking through her lashes.
He lost himself in her eyes and, for a fleeting moment, he didn’t care—he didn’t care about his father, his responsibilities, or that the world was fighting and hungry. For one beautiful second, he forgot it all.
“I’m glad too,” he said, his voice lower than normal. He didn’t miss it, and he doubted Abi did either.
His phone vibrated again. Asher didn’t look at it, but it was the encouragement he needed to leave.
“Stay out of trouble, Abi. Take good care of them,” he said, fighting every instinct to kiss her goodbye.
Why was he fighting it?
Was it so wrong to mix business with pleasure?
It was hardly like they worked closely together—but she had just killed two men tonight, men who almost certainly belonged to a terrorist group.
In that moment, lost in her eyes, even that didn’t matter to him.
He leaned in and cupped her cheek. He heard her sharp inhale of breath, and he gave her a second to move away—to give him any sign she didn’t want this.
Instead, she tilted her chin, and he brushed his lips over hers. His body hummed, electrified. Her kiss blurred his mind, and he could barely think straight.
He deepened the kiss, exploring her mouth, wanting more and more. He drew her in, wrapping his arms around her waist as her arms wrapped around his neck. His hands slid down to her hips.
She didn’t pull back; she didn’t stop. She encouraged him, but he didn’t need any encouragement.
The softest moan slipped from his lips, and he all but pinned her against the wall.
The sound of voices in the neighboring room broke through his trance, and he immediately felt guilty for being so happy when one room away Libby’s and Savannah’s hearts were bleeding. Now was not the time or place—but Asher didn’t find himself regretting what he had started.
Asher pulled back, but his lips lingered on her cheek.
“Good night, Abigail,” he whispered.
The elevator arrived and she stepped back. “Good night, Asher.”
He walked into the elevator, pressed the button, and turned to face her. Her eyes flashed with something he first thought was guilt, which made no sense to him. Whatever it was, it was fleeting. She opened her mouth to speak, and then closed it like she’d decided not to.
The elevator doors closed and Asher’s mind reeled.
What was that about?
Abi
Abi rested one hand against the wall and inhaled until her lungs burned.
“Have you lost your mind?” Rachel asked sharply from behind her. “I mean, I know I joked about this, but I didn’t think you would actually entertain the idea. Abi, he’s Prince Asher, son of King Martin, your father’s most hated—”
Abi cut her off. “I know who he is.”
Rachel raised an eyebrow. “He’s close to his father, Abi. From what I know, Asher has always been a source of support for King Martin. He’s loyal to him, and he respects him as both his father and the King. I don’t think this is a good idea. And if it’s not, it’s really going to complicate things for IFRT.”
“I’m very aware of that,” Abi said, her head spinning as she stood upright. She suddenly had a headache.
“That’s not what it looked like ten seconds ago. Even if he knew who you are, and decided he wanted to get involved, it doesn’t matter! It doesn’t matter what you want . . . or even what he wants. The King will forbid him from this, and hell, your father will be livid. What if he sees this as a betrayal of your loyalty and cuts off your trust fund? Then IFRT will really be screwed. This is a disaster waiting to happen.”
“It was one kiss,” Abi said flatly. Asher had given her the chance to step back, but instead she’d invited it. She couldn’t blame him for this mess—he didn’t know who she was—but she could definitely blame herself. This was one hundred percent on her.
She tilted her head back, sighing.
“Come on,” Rachel said, the anger already leaving her voice. “Let’s get these women set up for the night.”
Abi nodded. She would think about Asher tomorrow, but right now she needed to focus on the task at hand.
She wondered how the other rescued women were doing. They’d all been taken to various apartments and were being settled in by IFRT staff. Rescued women needed to feel safe and secure, not overwhelmed by lots of people. At the rate their operations were scaling up, Abi would need to buy another apartment soon.
Abi walked to the spare rooms, checked to make sure the beds were made, and then went back to the women.
“You must be tired. Would you like a warm shower and a bed?” Abi asked gently. A psychologist would arrive in the morning, but Abi and her team would provide for their comfort and safety until then.
They nodded, and Abi motioned them forward, careful to keep her distance and not make any sudden movements to startle the women.
She gave them fresh towels, knowing it had been many days since they’d been given such a basic need, and led Libby toward the bathroom while Savannah waited in one of the bedrooms.
Abi would stay there tonight, as would Rachel and two other team members. They would sleep on the couch and the floor. Once the psychologist assessed the women in the morning, they could draft a plan.
When women were settled, Abi lay down on the sofa bed, pulling a blanket over her shoulders. She closed her eyes and felt herself drift off to sleep.
And then she saw the men’s faces and her bullets hitting them.
Her eyes snapped open as she breathed heavily. The events of the night were blurry, but as she’d drifted off to sleep she’d seen everything so clearly.
She’d killed two men tonight.
Sabrina knew. The women knew. The Colonel knew.
Asher knew.
Asher
“Noah,” Asher said into his phone as he strode toward his car. He had slipped out of the palace, opting not to take a security team. It was a reckless decision, but he didn’t want to lead them straight to Abi’s apartment. They already knew he’d been to IFRT’s headquarters, and this would only ignite questions and increase the chance of his father finding out.
“Hey. Where are you?” Noah asked.
“Leaving Abi’s apartment. I was concerned about my involvement in IFRT,” Asher said, unlocking his car and sliding into the driver’s seat. He locked the doors and checked his mirrors.
It took Noah a moment to respond. “What? Why? What changed?”
“It’s a long story,” Asher said. “I’ll talk to you when I get home.”
“How did she take it that you’re considering withdrawing support?” Noah asked.
“I didn’t tell her,” Asher said with a groan.
“Okay,” Noah said with a hint of amusement. “Check in with Father—I don’t know what he wants—then come see me. I’ll be in my office.”
“Thanks, Noah,” Asher said.
Asher drove through the quiet streets, always paying attention, but his mind kept wandering . . . back to Abi and that kiss. His thoughts lingered on her reaction. She hadn’t pulled back, she’d wanted it—of that much he was sure—but something had shifted afterward.
When he arrived at the palace, he dismissed it from his mind, mentally preparing for a meeting with his father. Asher had no idea what the King wanted.
Asher walked through the white, ornate palace hallways, directly to the King’s office. Security nodded, and he knocked and entered. Standard protocol.
“I’ve been looking for you,” his father said, looking up.
“I went for a drive,” Asher said, knowing it had probably been noted that his car was gone.
“To where?”
“Old town,” Asher said. “I want to see how our people are really living.” That’s actually where Asher had been a few nights ago.
The King rested his cheek in his palm. “And what did you find?”
�
��Hunger,” Asher said, sitting on the velvet chair opposite his father’s desk.
“Which is one of the reasons I wanted to speak to you,” the King said with a slow nod. “I received a call from the Adani crown prince earlier this evening. He wanted to discuss another matter, but while on the phone I requested a meeting for you with him. He agreed and is expecting you in Adani tomorrow evening.”
“That’s good,” Asher said, his eyes darting to the clock on his father’s desk.
“The plane and security teams are on standby. You’ll leave late morning,” the King said, sounding more tired than usual.
Asher studied the dark circles under his eyes—circles that had been there for months. He didn’t look any different tonight, but something was amiss.
“Are you not feeling well?” Asher asked.
“Why? Do I look that terrible?” the King asked with a small smile.
“You look the same. But something is bothering you. I can tell,” Asher said.
His father sighed. “Protests have started over the tax laws. People don’t want to pay higher taxes, but if we don’t collect more money, the entire kingdom will fall. What am I supposed to do?”
It didn’t surprise Asher that protests had started; what did surprise him was that his father had asked his opinion.
“No one likes tax increases,” Asher replied slowly. “You knew that was going to be an issue. I think you need to show the people where their money is going. They need to see it is being well spent and that the royal family cares about them. Recent antics . . . Uncle and Alistair,” he clarified, struggling to hide the contempt from his voice. “Uncle’s actions validated their concerns, and Alistair is snorting thousands of dollars of cocaine in a single night. The people of Santina have a right to be concerned. I think you handled the situation with Uncle well, the only way you could’ve, but the damage had already been done. When you get caught cheating and stealing from people who are living on the poverty line, it’s hard to ask them for more money.”
The King rubbed his tired eyes. “It never ends.”
Asher frowned. “What never ends?”
“The problems, the responsibility,” the King said, leaning back in his chair. “And the world thinks this is an easy job.”
Asher smiled—he knew his father well enough to know that he in fact loved his job, that he would’ve chosen no other.
“You’re just having a bad day. Get some rest. I’ll ask around and see what the tone of these protests are and how bad they’re going to get,” Asher said, a plan already formulating in his mind.
King Martin nodded, drank the last of his tea, and closed his diary. “Good night, Asher.”
“Good night, Father.”
Abi was far from Asher’s mind as he exited his father’s office and walked toward his bedroom. As he closed the door, he remembered Noah.
There was no security outside Noah’s office, and Asher didn’t bother knocking. He paused to send a text message to Jesse, his bodyguard.
“Please do tell me what happened,” Noah said with a smirk as Asher entered.
Asher sighed, settling onto the couch. Noah’s office bore a stark contrast to the King’s: it was casual, comfortable, and was decorated with a palette of neutral tones. It was a far cry from the velvet and gold adorning of his father’s office.
“We’ll talk on the way. Come on,” Asher said, not waiting for Noah’s response. Noah was always keen for an adventure—and this could very well be just that.
“Where are we going?” Noah asked under his breath, like he thought someone was watching them.
“For a drive,” Asher responded. He checked his phone to see a response to his message.
Jesse: We’ll follow you. We need to talk about where you were earlier. I don’t like being given the slip, Asher.
Asher would deal with Jesse later. For now, he called Alistair’s phone as he and Noah walked, but it went to voicemail.
When they were out of the palace gates, Noah asked, “Seriously, where are we going?”
“To the protests. I think the King is more concerned than he let on. I want to see for myself what’s going on there.”
Noah raised his eyebrows. “Without security?” he asked, his voice void of excitement.
“Jesse’s following us,” Asher said, checking the rearview mirror once more. The headlights of three vehicles were gaining speed behind them.
“Huh,” Noah said, visibly calmer than he’d been a minute ago. “Did Father ask you to do this, or did you decide this would be a brilliant idea all on your own?”
“I decided. Why? You don’t think it is?” Asher asked.
Noah shrugged. “Good, probably. Safe? I don’t know. They’re protesting against his new tax laws, after all. You’re just going to walk right in there amongst the crowd?”
“The protests are peaceful. I’ve reviewed the tax laws, and I don’t think they’re unreasonable. The people feel the way they do because of what happened with Uncle, Alistair’s irresponsible and expensive illegal habits, and the state of the economy. The King has kept our country war-free, but we’ve paid a price for that. Tourism has plummeted, impacting everyone. Ultimately, we need to show that we still care and know it’s hard for them right now, but that we’re trying to find a solution. Above all, they need to know they’re being heard.”
Noah regarded Asher with an odd look—like he knew something Asher didn’t.
“What?” Asher asked.
Noah shook his head. “Nothing. Tell me what happened with Abi.”
Asher groaned. He gave Noah all the details and tried to describe Abi’s final response as best he could, but he still didn’t understand it.
Noah scoffed, tipping his head back as he laughed. “You’ve lost your touch, Prince. If you spent more time with women and less time with me, Abi might’ve been more impressed.” He smirked.
“Shut up,” Asher said. “The kiss was not the problem. I just don’t know what happened afterward.”
Noah’s smile faded, and he turned thoughtful. “I don’t know her well enough to answer, but there could be many reasons. Maybe she felt inadequate. I know you forget you’re a prince, but you are. Maybe she wasn’t expecting it or maybe her mind was still rattled from the earlier events. I mean, she had been forced to kill two men. Even if they deserved it, that has to take a toll on her mind.”
Asher nodded, returning his attention to the street. He could see lights ahead, and his eyes darted back to his security team. There were a lot more people at the protests than he’d realized. They’d doubled in size from the reports he’d read this morning.
“So you kissed her and then decided to continue supporting her?” Noah asked with a raised eyebrow, still stuck on Abi.
“No. I saw, in real life, the difference they were making—two of the women they’d rescued were at the apartment. They barely uttered a word, but their pain was palpable. If I don’t support IFRT, I’m limiting how many women and children they can help.”
Noah pursed his lips, thoughtful. “And that’s it?”
“That’s not enough?” Asher asked.
“Of course it is. But how badly is this girl getting under your skin? You’ve met her all of two times. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I see the attraction—those long legs are enough to steal any man’s attention—but women usually struggle to hold your attention for more than an hour.”
“She’s different,” Asher explained. “She doesn’t treat me like a prince. In fact, I don’t think she gives a fuck who I am, other than for my contacts, and that’s backed up by the fact that she doesn’t say things she thinks I want to hear. Can you honestly remember the last time we’ve been out and that hasn’t happened?”
Noah shook his head. “I can’t, to be honest.”
Every time Asher and Noah went out together, they sat at bars, bored, listening to women subtly tell them how they would be a good princess. Asher hated it, and no matter how subtle their words, he picked up on the slightes
t innuendo. But not once with Abi had he felt like that. He would bet his life becoming a princess was not high on her list of goals.
And Asher knew that Abi would never want to be a princess, because she’d never be able to be that and lead IFRT at the same time. She couldn’t meddle in another country’s business, because that was political warfare, and a princess could not be put in the situation she had been in last night. That fact alone should’ve stopped him from kissing her.
When Noah spoke again, his voice was that of a friend. “It won’t work with her, Ash. It’s not that she’s a commoner, that doesn’t matter—it’s the fact that she doesn’t have a clean slate, and tonight she proved that. Who knows what else she’s done? Bribing officials would be enough of a scandal, even if it’s done for a good cause. You need a less colorful woman who will play the part of a princess—and who wants to be a princess.”
“I know that,” Asher said, and that’s why he was still single. He didn’t want what he knew he should have. He’d rather be alone. His mother was constantly introducing him to women, and he found each as bland and boring as the next.
As they neared the site of the protests, Asher slowed down and came to a stop on a side street, waiting for his security team to pull up beside them.
“A little more warning next time please, Asher,” Jesse said, giving him the look. It was one Asher knew well, because he was often giving his security team the slip and getting past them—or inviting them along at short notice.
Jesse didn’t use an official title when addressing Asher. None of the security team did, per Asher’s request.
Asher turned off the car and got out as security formed a circle around him and Noah. Asher locked his car and slipped the keys into his pocket.
“Stay behind and beside,” Asher said. He didn’t want to alarm any of the protestors, and he definitely didn’t want to appear like an ass wrapped in a bubble of security.
They checked in with the police officials on site.
BLOOD, LOVE AND LIES (THE ROYALS Book 1) Page 6
