by James, Lylah
His lips brushed against my ear. “I would have never allowed you this close to Coal if I thought he was dangerous. I won’t let him hurt you. Trust me.”
I blinked, trying to focus on his words and not the way my body seemed to react to his maddening touch. Spinning around, I wrenched myself from his grasp and stumbled away. “I don’t trust people easily and you’re practically a stranger.”
Killian arched a perfect eyebrow at me and the side of his lips curled up in a half-smile. “I won’t bite, you know.”
My heart stuttered. “Why do you say that?”
“Because you keep running away from me.” He advanced toward me, stealthily, and I took a step back. He paused and gave me a look as if to prove his point.
I met Killian three days ago, after he found me hiding behind a stack of hay, spying on him and the black stallion.
I had watched him for two weeks before that. From my window. How fortunate it was that my room overlooked the stables. I waited for him each morning, right at tsunrise. I’d watch as he wrestled with the black stallion while I drank my tea and munched on freshly baked cookies. Sometimes, I expected him to give up on the wild horse, but Killian always came back the next day. More determined than he was the day before.
Before Killian, I never realized the beauty of the sunrise, but now I had a newfound appreciation for it. He would take Coal for a walk as the sun rose over the horizon – the warmest hues of a rainbow turning the sky into a canvas of colors. It was breathtaking.
But what was more exhilarating was watching Killian ride the black stallion, like a dark knight on his horse.
When he wasn’t there in the morning, I waited all day and watched the window until late into the evening. Just to catch a glimpse of him as he worked with Coal. His strength and determination. How controlled he was and how easily he dominated the black stallion. There was something regal about him.
Killian intrigued me.
And that was exactly why I had escaped the confines of my room and found myself in the stables. Not once. But three times now.
If my father found out…
“Do I scare you? I didn’t know I could be so frightening.”
The first day we met, I thought he was a simple stableman – someone without a title, a nobody. But that was a mere fantasy.
Until I found out he was the Killian Spencer.
The former President’s son.
A man with power and exemplary wealth.
A billionaire.
And a man useful to my father – his lucky chess piece, as he’d say.
Killian and I were never supposed to cross paths. But it was my one mistake that led me here. And like an invisible string, something intangible kept pulling me closer to him. Wanting to be in his presence. Needing to talk to him. Craving the sound of his voice.
I should had never come back after the first day. Should have stayed away, but here I was.
“You don’t scare me.” My gaze roved his handsome face and solid build. He was tall – taller than my father and with broader shoulders. “You’re just… intimidating.”
“That’s a compliment, Princess” he drawled, all confident and nonchalant.
I swallowed. “I have to go.”
I spun around, ready to leave and never come back, but his voice stopped me. “You still haven’t told me your name.”
Panic rose in my chest and a familiar, paranoid fear crashed through me. My muscles tensed and my stomach churned with nausea. If my father found out I had been seeing Killian, secretly…
Oh God.
That was the moment that ruined the rest of our story.
My first mistake was coming to the stables.
My second mistake was…
“My name is Gracelynn,” I whispered, before taking off into a sprint.
Away from him.
And my lies.
One week later
Killian removed his black blazer and threw it my way, smacking me right in the face with it. I sputtered and glared, but he only gave me a crooked grin in response. He unbuttoned his cuff links and hiked his sleeves up his muscled forearms.
I practically drooled, but I was a respectable and proper lady, so I didn’t.
I climbed over a stack of hay, perching atop and draping Killian’s blazer over my knees.
“A white dress in the stables? I’m questioning your choices,” Killian said.
I nudged my chin high. “Why? You don’t like it?”
He flashed me a crooked grin. “White is very…pure. It doesn’t suit my liking, although, you look exceptional in white.”
“What is your favorite color then?”
He led Coal by his bridle, pulling the stallion from his stall. “Red,” Killian deadpanned.
“Why red?” I questioned.
“Red is the color of extremes, Princess. It’s many things. Violence. Passion. Wrath.” He paused; his eyes lingered over my lips and his voice softened, to almost a tantalizing low undertone. “Longing. Seduction. Lust.”
My belly pooled with warmth and there was a fluttering in the pit of my stomach. My thighs tightened, involuntarily.
Coal let out a neigh and I exhaled a shuddering breath. I looked away first, but not before I saw the flash of mischief on Killian’s face.
The black stallion strutted toward me with a snort, but it was more playful than grumpy.
“Coal and I are starting to get along,” I observed, swinging my legs back and forth.
Killian brushed the horse’s black coat with exquisite tenderness and I wondered how it’d feel to have his hands on me like that. The moment that thought came to me, I shook my head.
Nope. This was very wrong.
“Why are you so scared of horses?” Killian asked, looking both thoughtful and interested in what my response would be.
I gave him a half-shrug, even when I fought a shiver at the memories – they were still so vivid, though it had been almost eight years.
“I had a little accident when I was ten,” I explained. “Fell off my horse while I was learning to ride and sustained a brain injury. I haven’t been allowed near a horse since then.”
In fact, I haven’t been allowed out of my father’s estate since then.
When I was eleven, he put me in an all-girls boarding school. But when my seizures became ‘troublesome’ and my father worried that the public would come to know about my epilepsy – and what he perceived as a weakness – he pulled me out. Then, both my sister and I were home schooled.
While I rarely left the Romano’s Estate, my sister traveled to France when she became nineteen and studied fashion design for three years before recently coming back to America, a month ago.
My sister who was the real Gracelynn Romano.
And I was just… Julianna. Forgotten daughter, a shadow and a nobody.
My sister – who was to be betrothed to Killian Spencer. Our father was expecting an alliance between the Romanos and Spencers, soon enough. It was a chase for power and more wealth for him.
I knew my lie would catch up to me.
I knew Killian would soon find out that I wasn’t the real Gracelynn. I should have told him the truth by now… but I wanted to buy more time with him.
Before he became my sister’s.
So, I lied. Over and over again.
Killian clucked his tongue. “Fear can be both adaptive and maladaptive. It can be deceiving, once it holds you captive. You just have to learn how to break free.”
He strode over to me and my heart stuttered once he was close enough that I could feel his warmth. Killian braced his hands on either side of me, beside my thighs. With me sitting atop the stack of hay, it put us eye-leveled with each other. Face to face and chest to chest.
He leaned forward, so close I could smell his minty breath, could taste it on my own lips. “Do you trust me?”
My lips quivered with the tiniest smile. “Not yet.”
He nodded, once, and took a step back. “We’ll work on th
at,” he crooned.
I inhaled sharply and thrust the paper bag I was holding toward him. “Cookies.”
He quirked up an eyebrow in question and I chewed on my lips, suddenly feeling shy and nervous. He took the paper bag from me and peered inside.
“I made them,” I said, quickly. “Without raisins. Because last time… you said, I mean… you didn’t like the raisins. So, I made these. For you. The way you like it. Oh my God, I’m just going to shut up now.”
“Are you flustered, Princess?” Killian drawled.
“I’m not,” I snapped, but secretly swooned at him calling me Princess. He didn’t mock me, but it was almost like he enjoyed teasing me.
He brought one of the cookies to his mouth and took a small bite. His gaze roved my body, leisurely and blatant. Killian didn’t even hide the fact that he was staring. Our eyes locked and he licked his lips, deliberately slow and enticing. “Hmm, soft and sweet. The way I like it.”
Goosebumps peppered my skin and my nipples tightened. “What?” I breathed.
“The cookies, Princess.”
Oh. Right. The cookies.
“Did you think I meant something else?” he inquired, taking another bite of the cookie. Killian was so calm and composed and I was so… not calm.
“No,” I denied too quickly, and he gave me that signature crooked grin of his.
Was Killian Spencer being flirtatious?
And why did I like it?
After eating two cookies, he handed me the paper bag again. “Thank you, Grace. That was very thoughtful of you.”
Grace.
It was almost on the tip of my tongue – to tell him the truth. That I wasn’t Gracelynn. I wanted to scream that I was Julianna.
But in the end, I only nodded and smiled.
My lies tasted bitter on my tongue but I swallowed them.
For the first time in my life, I felt seen and wanted. Desired. I felt… important.
And I wanted more.
Not knowing that it would be the reason I would later lose everything.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
THE PAST
Julianna
Two weeks later
“Nope,” I deadpanned.
Killian stood in front of me, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the first three buttons of his black dress shirt undone. His dark hair was messy as if he had raked his fingers through them way too many times.
My gaze darted to the riding crop in his hand and then quickly back to his eyes. It was the way Killian carried himself – so confident and controlled, the air practically crackling with his dominant energy – it made me nervous and on edge.
Coal took the apple that I was offering him, his breath warm and wet on my hand, and I pulled back, hastily. “That’s it. I pet him and feed him apples, but I’m not getting on him.”
Killian sighed. “He’s safe. I wouldn’t let you near him, let alone ride him, if he wasn’t, Grace.”
Over the last two weeks, I had learned to ignore the way Gracelynn’s name sounded on his lips when he spoke to me. It was my fault he still thought me Bishop Romano’s eldest daughter.
Yes, I should have told him the truth by now.
But I couldn’t.
I didn’t want to.
Every time my lips parted to speak the truth, it felt like I had swallowed something big and I choked on my own lies. My brain told me one thing, but my heart wanted something else entirely.
At first, guilt gnawed at me when Killian flirted with me. If he knew who I really was or how old I was – seventeen and underage – he wouldn’t have spared me another glance.
He thought I was Gracelynn and that I was twenty-two.
Killian was almost ten years older than me, a wealthy and experienced man. I was a nobody and too young for him.
But three days ago, I turned eighteen. That made me feel a bit less guilty at tricking him into believing that I was Gracelynn. I knew that didn’t make me a better person or fixed this situation, but I guessed… I was trying to make myself feel better.
That I wasn’t doing anything too wrong.
That this wasn’t forbidden.
Or immoral.
Even though, it was all three.
Killian crowded into me, his chest pressing against mine, forcing my attention back to him. I shook my head. “Oh no. No. I’m not getting on him!”
“Trust me, Princess,” he breathed.
“I trust you but–”
Killian grinned, pleased at my answer. I hadn’t even realized that I said the words out loud – that I trusted him.
“No buts,” he crooned. “You can’t take this back. Remember what I said? Fear is deceitful. It holds you captive and you need to break free. I won’t let anything hurt you.”
My hand landed on his chest and I gave him a gentle push, but it did nothing. He barely even budged, not that I wanted him too. I liked him this close. His strong, manly scent filling my nose and his warmth caressing my skin. “You can’t say that with such conviction. You can’t protect me all the time.”
“Yes, I can.”
“You’re not invincible,” I shot back.
“Says who?”
I licked my lips and his dark eyes flared with decadent mischief. “Arrogance has a limit, Killian Spencer.”
“Arrogance is a debatable and subjective matter,” he said.
I groaned. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re cute.”
I gave him another push, my brow furrowed. “Don’t patronize me.”
“I’m not,” he growled. “You are cute, pouting like this.”
“I don’t pout.” My lips pursed.
He arched a brow and I rolled my eyes. “Fine! I pout. So what?”
“Beautiful,” he mouthed.
I swooned for the second time since I met Killian.
“Now, trust me.” He grasped my hips and lifted me so suddenly, I gasped. “Left foot in the stirrup, Princess. And your right leg over the horse.”
I quickly did as I was told, only squeaking once when I sat in the saddle. Coal shifted under me, almost restlessly, and my fingers curled into his beautiful, silky mane.
“There you go,” Killian praised. “Look at you. Fearless. You’ve mounted a horse, Grace.”
So I did.
But oh God, my heart hammered against my ribs, blood roaring in my ears and I felt… breathless.
“The horse can feel it when you’re tensed and that will agitate him.” Killian brushed the riding crop lightly along my back and I trembled. “Relax your muscles and arch your back.”
I did as I was instructed, eventually finding myself seated more securely on the saddle – which was too big for me. Killian dragged the riding crop along the curve of my back once again, almost teasingly. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood up and I squeezed my thighs, feeling an insistent ache between them.
“Killian,” I squeaked when Coal let out a loud breath and stomped.
“It’s okay,” he soothed, his hand on my thigh. Firm and strong. Trustworthy. “I’m right here.”
And then Killian did the one thing I didn’t expect him too. He swung up behind me, settling onto Coal. “I got you,” he whispered on my neck, pressing close into my back.
His strong thighs caged my hips and his legs dangled behind me. He was so close, so warm… so strong.
The stallion snorted, growing restless under both our weight, but Killian patted his black coat, making soothing sounds at the back of his throat. Coal eventually settled and grew still, awaiting patiently for Killian’s next command.
“You’re a horse whisperer,” I murmured.
“Do you trust me, Princess?”
I nodded, voicelessly.
His fingers curled around my hips and he clicked Coal into a trot. The horse moved a few steps and I yelped, my body tensing. “Relax. Ease up your muscles. Let me guide you.”
“Easy for you to say,” I quavered.
“Grace,” he said, his
voice holding a warning tone. “Listen to me.”
“I am!”
“No, you’re letting your fear get in the way again.”
My voice trembled when I spoke. “Killian, please.”
He grabbed the rein with one hand, keeping the other one on my waist. “Ride the wave,” he instructed, his voice deep and calm. “Don’t fight Coal. Rock your hips to his movement, back and forth. Feel it. Feel him. Loosen your spine, relax your muscles.”
I tried, but every time the stallion moved a step, I tensed up again.
Killian lowered his head, his lips brushing against the curve of my ear. “I’m in control, Princess. You just have to move with Coal. Now, clutch him with your thighs.”
I gasped and quickly did like I was commanded. Killian clucked his tongue in approval and I flushed under his silent praise.
His fingers tightened around my hips. “Don’t just bounce on him. Rock your hips, baby. Move it. It’s all in your spine and your seat. Don’t try to ride him. Don’t force it. Let him take you on the ride.”
Coal trotted and Killian gripped my hips, moving me up and down with the stallion’s momentum. “There you go. That’s more like it,” he praised, his voice softening into a sweet caress.
My heart seemed to beat right out of my chest. Heat bloomed up my neck and my face until I felt heated and out of breath. Eventually, the movement started to feel more natural to me.
The fear was still there, simmering under my flesh and digging into my bones. But slowly, my muscles started to relax on their own. My spine loosened, like Killian had instructed me.
I squeezed my thighs, feeling Coal’s strength. He was a beast, but a warm and gentle creature. Killian leaned into my back and I could feel his smile.
With a shuddering breath, I relaxed into the saddle and allowed myself to move with Coal’s rhythm. Up and down, rocking my hips in the seat, feeling the stallion and letting him take me on the ride.