“Yes. I’m fine.” The lie catches in my throat. I’ll die before I admit how miserable I am. “You’re the one I’m concerned about. How are you? How’s Roman?”
“We’re better. The charges against him have been dropped, thanks to you. Going to the media with those photographs of your father made all the difference in the world. I’ll never be able to repay you.” Her smile fades into a worried frown. “I’m so sorry that you got dragged into this.”
“Don’t apologize. What Father did was unconscionable. He deserves to spend the rest of his life in prison.” The pain in my heart swells. “I keep replaying the past year in my head, thinking I could’ve stopped him. I should’ve seen through his lies.”
“He fooled us both. No one is to blame but him.”
“I keep telling myself that but—”
Unshed tears sparkle in her expressive eyes. “I’m worried about you. You didn’t have to run off. Roman could have protected you here in Manhattan. He still can. Come home, Everly.”
“Princess Everly.” I force a smile that I don’t feel. After all the horrible things my father has done to her family, she still cares, and it means more to me than any kingdom. “I’m an official consort now.” To underscore the point, I wave my hand wearing the enormous ring in front of the screen.
“Jesus.” Rourke lets out a low whistle. “That’s obnoxiously big.”
“I know, right?” The sapphire and diamonds wink in the lamplight. “I’m afraid to take it off. Henry would probably invoice me for the loss.”
“Is he treating you like a queen?” She leans closer to the screen until I can see the freckles on the bridge of her nose. “Because I will take him down if he lays a finger on you, and I can do it. You tell him. I don’t care if he’s the King of fucking Siam.”
Her enthusiasm and loyalty fill me with more love than I knew possible. My laughter rings through the bedroom. The familiarity of our relationship lightens the burden of guilt I’ve been carrying. “He’s great.” There aren’t words to describe the complexity of my marital relationship. Even if I could, I refuse to burden her with the truth. “Palace life seems chaotic and crazy, but I’m sure I’ll get used to it.”
“You don’t have to pretend with me, Everly.”
“I know.” To hold back the tears, I exhale a long breath. “I’m really excited about starting over.” My words are as much for my sake as hers. “Becoming a princess is hardly the worst thing to happen to a girl.”
“You’re a terrible liar. I can see it on your face. Talk to me.”
The genuine concern in her voice opens the floodgate to my emotions, giving me the courage to confess. “No one likes me. My mother-in-law is a royal bitch. And his former fiancée is here. Needless to say, she’s not happy with the situation.” The story pours out of my mouth, aside from Henry’s ‘lessons.’ I leave that part out. She listens until I’m finished.
“Tough crowd. You can win them over. I know you can.”
“I wish Androvia wasn’t so far away.”
“No matter what happens, I’ll always be here for you. Do you understand?” The fierceness in her eyes says everything. “Once the baby comes, I’ll be able to visit. Roman wants me to have the baby in London. He thinks it will be safer for us. And, you know, England is just a quick flight from Androvia.”
“That would be fantastic.” A lifetime of friendship passes through my memories. Childhood slumber parties, double dates, heartbreak, and celebrations have brought us closer than sisters. “I’ll talk to Henry. Maybe I can be there for the birth.”
She presses her palms together. A smile lights her face. “I would love that because I’m freaking out about the whole delivery process.” Her brow furrows, foreshadowing a change of topic. “I’m not supposed to say anything, but Henry’s been in constant contact with Roman about your father. He’s determined to find him. He genuinely cares about you, Everly.”
“Really?” The words cause a twitter of excitement in my belly. Despite everything, I want to believe there’s a chance for us. Not love. Love is out of the question. However, mutual respect would be a step up from our strained politeness. “Because he’s kind of a jerk to me.”
“Except when he’s giving you enormous sapphires.” Rourke speaks my thoughts aloud. A mischievous gleam sparkles in her eyes. “And in the bedroom.”
“He’s a lot of man,” is the best reply I can muster. “But nothing I can’t handle.”
“Of course not. You’re Everly fucking McElroy. Princess of Androvia. Those people have no idea who they’re messing with. Right?”
“Yes.”
Long after our call is finished, her words stay with me, shore me up, and restore my confidence. I blink at the now blank tablet screen, filled with gratitude for her friendship. An ocean might separate us, but we’ll never be apart, not in the ways that matter. My parents may have abandoned me, but Rourke will always be there.
After a few minutes, I pull myself together and tap on Henry’s bedroom door to return his tablet. His deep voice calls, “Come in.”
He’s lying in the center of the bed, propped up by pillows, reading a book. Despite my best efforts, I can’t stop staring at the dusting of dark blond hair on his bare chest or the way it trails beneath the drawstring waist of his silk pajama bottoms. When my thoughts return to his face, he’s wearing a satisfied smirk.
“Here’s your tablet.” I extend it to him.
He waves it away. “Keep it. It’s yours.”
“Thank you.” I clutch it to my chest, like it’s a lifeline. In a way, it is. It’s my only link to Rourke and the outside world since he confiscated my phone before the wedding. “And thank you for calling Rourke. You have no idea how much it means to me.” I expect him to demand sex as payment for my gratitude. Instead, he sets the book aside and leans forward, resting his forearms on his raised knees.
“You care for her.” Mild curiosity and interest pepper his tone. “Why is that?”
“We’ve been friends since we were kids. When her parents died, my family kind of took her in. Later, she became my personal assistant. We’ve been through a lot together.” The recap causes a lump to form in my throat. “I love her more than anything.”
“You must love her to forsake your own father.” His eyelids lower. “And you trust her?”
“With my life.”
“You’re lucky to have such a good friend. Hold on to her with everything you’ve got.”
Is it my imagination or do I see wistfulness behind his guarded expression? From what I’ve learned since arriving in Androvia, he’s no stranger to family drama. In a flash, the vulnerability dissipates into his usual arrogant smirk. His attention glides over the sheer frilly top and matching shorts of my lingerie set. I back toward my bedroom. “Well, thank you again.”
“You’re welcome. Again.” The weight of his attention warms my backside as I beat a hasty retreat into my room. Part of me is disappointed that he didn’t insist on sex. The rest of me says a silent prayer of relief. I’m about to shut the door when he calls after me. My pulse leaps at the rumble of his deep voice. “Sleep tight, Everly.”
“You too, Henry.” I shut the door and lean against it. A few seconds later, I hear the locks click.
11
Henry
Following breakfast, the household staff lines up in the courtyard to meet the newest royal. Everly stands at my side, looking calm and serene in a black dress. We haven’t spoken yet this morning. I was up at dawn to take an overseas conference call while she slept.
“Are you ready to meet your subjects, Your Highness?” I turn to look down at her.
“Yes, sir.” Her blue eyes meet mine. For the first time, they’re filled with warmth, and it’s directed at me. My breath hitches. I forget about the crowd in front of us. I can’t see anything but Everly. A smile upturns the corners of her mouth. Jesus, those lips.
“Your Majesty?” Shasta clears her throat. “Sir?”
“What?” An un
familiar bubble expands inside my chest. Using two fingers, I rub my sternum, trying to dispel the strange sensation.
“We’re waiting for you, sir.” Curiosity flits across Shasta’s expression.
Everly’s fingers curl into the crook of my elbow. In tandem, we step to the head of the line. She greets each employee, repeats their names, asks questions about their families, and thanks them for their loyal service to the crown. Some are my lifelong friends. Others are new. Their faces light up at Everly’s genuine interest in their welfare, the kindness in her expression, and the caring tone of her voice. If I didn’t know better, I’d assume she’d been born into this role. Now, I recognize the strange feeling in my chest. It’s pride—for someone other than myself.
“They seem like such wonderful people,” she says as we walk back into the palace.
When we reach the Grand Hall, I tug her into an alcove. The heavy curtains swish closed behind us. I need her to myself, just for a minute. She cocks her head to the side. A wisp of her dark hair has worked itself loose from the elegant twist at the nape of her neck. I brush the fluttering strand behind her ear, letting my fingers graze her skin. She shivers and turns her face into my touch. My heart skips a beat at the trusting gesture. “You were amazing out there.”
“I only did what you expected.” Her words travel on a deep exhale as I caress the curve of her ear. “They deserve nothing less.”
“In my world, kindness is scarce.” I drop a kiss on the curve where her shoulder meets her neck.
“Then you live in a sad place.”
“True.” When I straighten, her eyes are focused on my mouth. This would be the perfect time for a kiss. Our bodies sway toward each other. Her fingers curl into the lapels of my jacket, the same way they did the very first time we met. A sweep of peach gloss covers her swollen bottom lip. No mouth should be so perfect, so tempting.
“It doesn’t have to be that way, Henry.” In the close proximity of the alcove, the delicious citrus notes of her perfume make me dizzy. She leans closer until her breasts press against my chest. “This is your court. You set the tone.”
“I agree.” My awareness hovers on the sweep of her tongue over her lips. Suddenly, I’m famished for a taste of her. Like she’s the last drink of water in the desert and I’m a man dying of thirst. I take her chin between my thumb and index finger. “Look at you. So full of wisdom.”
“Thank you for noticing.” A dimple appears beside her mouth. I press a kiss to the sweet indentation, cognizant of her luscious lips next to mine. One turn of her face, a subtle shift in our stances, will bring our mouths together. It should be easy, but I can’t bring myself to lower the barricade of mistrust around my heart.
“I want to reward you.” Instead, I slide a hand down the slope of her spine to grab a handful of her bottom. She squeaks in surprise. “What would you like? I’ll give you anything your heart desires.”
“Health care for the palace staff. And a key to our apartment.” Her swift reply makes me laugh.
“Keys require trust, and I’m not quite sure I can trust you. Not yet. How do I know your father didn’t send you here to ruin me?” Until this moment, I had no idea how much I value—make that crave—her loyalty. “After all, it’s his mission in life.”
“You’re forgetting that he wants me dead.”
But I haven’t forgotten. How could I? “Maybe that was just a ploy to breach the palace.”
“If you think I’m a danger to anyone, you’ve sadly misjudged my character.” She steps forward in the cool dim light. Through the fabric of my clothes, I feel the rise and fall of her ribs, the underwire of her bra, and the softness of her flesh.
“Oh, you’re a danger, all right.” A danger to me.
“We share a mutual goal. I want what’s best for Androvia and for us. How can that be dangerous?” The tip of her nose drags along my jaw. My cock, impressed by this show of feminine desire, leaps to attention. “If I wanted to harm you, I could’ve done it a dozen different ways before we left Manhattan. Without marrying you.” Her breath burns my skin.
“I’m willing to take the matter under advisement.” I close my eyes to savor her touch. The soft press of her mouth to the stuttering pulse beneath my ear elicits a new kind of desire. One born from respect and admiration instead of the need for dominance.
“The welfare of your people matters to me, Henry. I care. It’s not an act. Helping people is the only thing I want to do in life.”
The declaration acts as a potent aphrodisiac. My fascination with her upgrades from animal lust to schoolboy crush. If only this was a love match. For the first time in my life, I’ve never wanted anything more. If only we had the freedom to develop a relationship without the prying eyes of a country upon us. If only she loved me. That last bit rockets panic into the pit of my stomach. If only…
* * *
EVERLY
In the morning, there’s a small gift box on the pillow next to my head. Thinking it’s from Henry, I tear through the wrapping paper, a giddy smile on my face. He might be arrogant, but he has a soft side, one that peeks out occasionally. The longer I know him, the more enamored I am with the many facets of his personality. I open the box. My stomach lurches. I press a hand to my mouth, trying not to vomit.
“Olga! Can you come in here, please?” I close the lid. My fingers shake, rattling the box and its contents.
“Yes, Your Highness?” With my dress for the day draped over her arm, she peers at me from the depths of my dressing room.
“How did this get here?” I hold up the box.
“Um, I don’t know, madam. It’s the first I’m seeing of it.” Her eyebrows draw together over her nose.
The door to Henry’s bedroom swings open. “Is everything all right?” He stands on the threshold, his attention focused on threading a cufflink through the cuff of his white dress shirt. The scent of his aftershave drifts into the room. Some of the tension eases from my shoulders. I exhale a long breath.
“No. Everything is not all right.” I toss the box onto the bed and scoot toward the headboard, eager to get away from it. “This was on my pillow.”
“I just came upstairs to change my shirt and heard you call for Olga.” He sits on the bed next to me and draws the box onto his lap. The mattress dips beneath his weight. His gaze meets mine, dark and unreadable, before returning to the box. Carefully, he removes the lid and studies the decapitated mouse carcass. Deep grooves form in his forehead. The darkness crossing his face is frightening. He turns his glower to Olga. “Do you know anything about this?”
“No, Your Majesty. It was on the princess’s pillow when I arrived.” She shifts her weight from one foot to the other and back again.
“This is unacceptable.” The amount of fury in Henry’s voice drives me into the mountain of pillows at my back. He draws his phone out of his pocket and places it to his ear. A man’s voice answers on the other end. I can hear the recipient’s voice but not his words. “Get to my apartment. Someone has breached our security. I want answers. Now.”
“I hate mice.” Beneath the sheets, I draw my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around them, needing comfort. Henry’s narrowed eyes add to my distress. I can’t tell if he’s angry with me or the situation.
“Olga, leave us.” Henry stares until I fidget. “Wait in my study. Security will have questions for you.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” She dips in a curtsy before sprinting out of the room. I can’t blame her. Henry is a formidable man under the best of circumstances. The furious tension in his jaw is frightening.
“Are you okay?” He slides closer to run his fingertips along the side of my face. An unfamiliar softness changes the color of his eyes from icy blue-green to warm aqua.
“Yes. Just shocked, I think.” I turn my cheek into his palm. The gentleness in his touch soothes my fears.
“I’ll get to the bottom of this. I promise you.”
“Who would do something like this?” The names of Lady C
layton and Princess Marie soar to the top of the list of possibilities.
“I don’t know, but we’ll find out.”
“You said I’m safe here, but I’m not, am I?”
“It’s probably nothing. Just a prank by one of the staff. We’ll sort it out.” His arms go around my shoulders. He pulls me against his lean body. I bury my nose in the fresh linen of his shirt. The brush of his lips against my temple replaces fear with desire. His deep voice rumbles through his chest. “No one threatens you. No one threatens the king’s consort.”
His meaning is clear. For once, I’m glad I belong to him. He owns me, inside and out. Any fool who tries to cross him will pay for their sins. I’ll gladly stand at his side when it happens.
12
Everly
The weekend arrives with stunning speed. Today is the funeral. A bevy of butterflies dances in my stomach. It’s the first time I’ll be leaving the castle since I arrived. And the first time I’ll face the Androvian public as Henry’s new wife. However, my excitement to leave the castle is tempered by the austerity of the occasion. No matter how dark Henry’s relationship might have been with his father, he’s laying to rest a parent, something that’s never easy. Despite our differences, I resolve to support him with dignity and compassion.
“I’m a little bit nervous,” I confess to Olga. Henry assures me that his security will protect us. I want to believe him, mostly because I have no other choice.
“Don’t worry, madam. You’ll be fine. Everyone is excited to meet you. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.” While she speaks, she sweeps a lint brush over the fabric of a severe black dress with a high neck and long, lace sleeves, chosen by Madame Chantelle.
“That’s hideous. Put it away. I’m not wearing that.” I throw back the covers and prepare for battle. When she doesn’t move quickly enough, I snatch the dress from the back of the door. Olga trots into the closet with me. The hangers rattle on the rod as I shuffle through the clothing. Many items are missing. “Where’s my black peplum dress? The one with the V-neck and three-quarter sleeves?”
The Rebel Queen Page 10