The Rebel Queen

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The Rebel Queen Page 22

by Jeana E. Mann


  “It’s true,” Roman replies, lifting an eyebrow. “She kicks my ass daily.”

  “I doubt that.” We pull back from each other. I shake hands with Roman. “Thank you for coming today and for bringing her. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

  “It’s an honor and a pleasure.” He nods, a faint smile tugging at his handsome features.

  “How many are in there?” I ask Rourke, nodding at her belly.

  “One. I’m just big.” She rubs a palm over the roundness. “I’m ready for him to get out of there.”

  “Him?” I clap my hands together in delight. “You’re having a boy.”

  “Yes. Another Menshikov is about to join the world.” Roman’s tone brims with pride. He places a hand on the small of his wife’s back. They make a picturesque couple. His smoldering darkness provides the perfect foil to her fair, girl-next-door complexion. Their shared glances suggest an intimacy that completes my happiness. My girl has found her Prince Charming.

  “I don’t mean to rush you, but they’re waiting for us at the cathedral.” Henry drags a reverent fingertip along the side of my face. I shiver at the longing in his eyes. “We need to go.”

  The four of us ride to the church together. Thousands of people crowd the streets. I pause on the front steps to regain my composure and wave to the onlookers. Rourke and Roman continue inside. A car pulls to the curb with a late arrival. Lady Clayton exits, a frown on her face. She’s accompanied by a middle-aged, balding man with a barrel chest and an enormous nose.

  “That’s her fiancé,” Henry whispers into my ear as we ascend the steps behind them. “He’s boring but wealthy. I’m sure they’ll be miserable together.”

  I suppress a giggle. “Don’t be mean, Henry.”

  “My apologies, Your Majesty.” He bows low in front of me. When he straightens, the sunlight illuminates his irises. My knees go weak from the knowledge that he’s my husband. I’m the luckiest girl ever.

  Inside the church, Christian fusses over my dress. He flutters around me, rearranging my train, and adjusting seams. Henry steps back to allow him room to work. Our gazes lock and hold. He shakes his head, grinning sheepishly. I lift an eyebrow. “What?”

  “I just—I’m overwhelmed,” Henry says. “I can’t believe how lucky I am.”

  “Me too.” I squeeze his fingers between mine, loving the strength of his touch. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

  “Alright, Miss Thang—I mean, Your Majesty.” Christian retreats, tears in his eyes. “You’re the most gorgeous queen who ever walked this earth, and I’ll fight anyone who denies it.” The pride and love are fierce in his voice. “Now, get out there and knock ‘em dead.”

  Henry offers his elbow. We walk together to the enormous double doors. I suck in a nervous breath, wishing I had more than coffee in my empty stomach. Thank goodness, I have Henry to walk down the long aisle with me. He pats my hand. I smile up at him, overwhelmed by gratitude. Once I cross the threshold, my place in Androvian history will be cemented for eternity. None of this would be possible without him.

  He clears his throat. A sheen of emotion mists his eyes. “I love you, Queen Everly.” A bubble of joy threatens to explode in my chest. The smile slips from his face, leaving behind a gravity I haven’t seen before. “You’re the best surprise I’ve ever had.”

  “Really?” The doors swing open to reveal a packed audience. “You hate surprises.” I smooth my free hand over my stomach. “I bet I can top that.”

  “Not possible.” He straightens, assuming the proud persona that accompanies a king. The guests stand and turn to watch as we make the procession to the front.

  My smile grows bigger. “Oh, really? You’re going to eat your words, mister.”

  “And why is that?” He casts a sideways glance in my direction, concern in his eyes.

  I tighten my hold on his elbow. This moment couldn’t be more perfect. “Because I’m pregnant.”

  35

  Henry

  THREE MONTHS LATER…

  Evenings have become my favorite part of the day. After an endless stretch of meetings and phone calls, I head toward the library to find my wife. Weaving between the tall bookcases, I find her sitting on a sofa by the window. Late afternoon sunlight illuminates the auburn color of her dark hair. Her feet are tucked beneath her. One hand rests on her swollen belly. She’s just beginning to show. When she hears my footsteps, she glances up. The smile on her face stops my heart. She rests the book on the table and gazes at me with soft blue eyes.

  “Henry.” The low, sultry way she speaks my name means everything to me. Somehow—between our wicked games in the bedroom and our battles for control in the palace—we’ve managed to find common ground.

  “Hello, my love.” Two little words have never been so true. My love. She’s mine. Maybe not in the way I first envisioned, as part of a loveless business relationship. What we have is so much more. She’s my friend, my partner, and my lover. Suddenly, I’m overcome with joy and relief. This is it. She’s the one. Everly is the missing piece to the puzzle of my life. The piece I hadn’t known existed. “I thought I might find you here.”

  “It’s my favorite place.” Her smile fades into a frown. “Is something wrong?”

  “No. Everything’s fine.”

  “Am I late for dinner?” Her brow furrows as she glances at her wristwatch, the diamond-studded beauty I gave her last week.

  “Will you join me for a private dinner tonight? Just the two of us.” Since the coronation, the palace has emptied of guests, but we still have formal dinners a few times a week. “Is it okay that I want you all to myself?”

  “Yes.” Her thighs press together, a subtle hint that she’s affected by my presence. “Of course.”

  I take a knee in front of her, drawing her hand to my lips, and press a kiss on her fingertips. “And afterward, perhaps we can have a new lesson.”

  “I’d love that.” The breathiness in her voice stirs my cock. “Just give me a few minutes, would you?”

  * * *

  EVERLY

  I leave Henry in the library and walk through the oldest part of the palace to the south wing. The door to the dungeon swings open on squeaky hinges. I nod to the guards on either side. “Good evening, gentlemen.”

  “Good evening, Your Majesty.”

  One of the soldiers shoves a key into the lock of a second door. They step aside to allow me entrance into the room. Even though the curtains are open, it takes a second for my eyes to adjust to the dimness.

  “It’s about damn time,” my father’s voice growls from the far corner.

  “I brought some of those chocolates that you like.” He doesn’t shift from his place on the couch as I drop a brown paper bag on the coffee table.

  “I don’t want your fucking chocolates.” He stares out the window at the stunning vista of mountains and waterfalls. “You can’t keep me locked away forever.”

  “Actually, I can.” I draw out a chair from the small table near the open door. The guards stand at my back, ready to protect me from the man who gave me life then tried to steal it away. “I can do anything I want with you.”

  “This is ridiculous. Someone will miss me eventually.” He hasn’t shaved in days, because he can’t be trusted with a razor. The whiskers on his cheeks are gray with strands of auburn. Despite his confinement, his skin still carries the traces of a summer tan, kept alive by daily visits to the courtyard. He’s still the man who raised me, but I no longer recognize him. Hatred gives him an unattractive aura.

  “No. They won’t. As far as the world is concerned, you made bail and skipped the country. Roman and Nicky will circulate rumors of sightings here and there to detract attention. In a few years, your plane will go down with your DNA inside. It’ll be an accident. After that, no one will come looking for you.”

  He twitches like he’s about to launch across the room and throttle me. A guard steps between us. Father eases back into his chair. I no longer fee
l affection toward him or anything but disgust and pity.

  “You can’t do this to me. I’m your father. I demand that you treat me with some respect.” His lips shake with the ferocity of his anger. I have no doubt that he’d snap my neck if given a chance.

  I survey the room, the sturdy but plain furniture, the bars on the windows, and the surveillance cameras in each corner. “If you ask my opinion, this is more respect than you deserve.” I stand. The chair legs scrape over the floor as I push it back beneath the table. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, my husband is waiting for me.”

  “No. Don’t go.” He tries to stand, but the guard pushes him back onto the sofa. “I apologize. For everything. Just don’t leave. I’m going crazy in here.”

  His words strike a hollow note in my chest. I know he’s playing me. “You should’ve thought of that before you fucked with my friends.” I summon a smile, wanting to leave the visit on a positive note. “Have a nice evening, Daddy.”

  The door closes behind me. The key clicks in the lock. I straighten my dress and stride down the hall in the direction of the royal apartment, eager to see the surprise Henry has cooked up for tonight. Whatever it is, I’m going to enjoy every minute of it.

  36

  Henry

  TEN YEARS LATER…

  The limousine glides noiselessly through the streets of New York City. Skyscrapers and bright lights flash past the windows. I have no idea where I’m going, only that my wife—my rebellious, beautiful, fascinating wife—requested my presence at an undisclosed location. After a lengthy drive, the car pulls into a familiar alleyway. I chuckle. Once again, she’s managed to surprise me.

  “You’ll need to put on your mask, Your Majesty.” The driver catches my gaze through the rearview mirror.

  “I know the drill.” I place the black leather mask over my eyes and tie the strings behind my head. “No names. No faces.”

  My heart beats a little faster at the familiar walls of the Devil’s Playground. I follow the masked host through the passages. Frenzied music pumps out of the hidden speakers, making conversation impossible. I haven’t been here since my first date with Everly. Little has changed. The women are still beautiful. Everyone wears a mask. Secrets and anticipation thicken the air.

  The host pauses in front of a playroom door and hands me the key. “If you need anything, please let me know. Enjoy.” He bows before disappearing into the darkened corridor.

  I draw in a deep breath, steadying my nerves. Despite my irritation at the loss of control over the evening, I’m eager to find out what she’s planned. The key turns in the lock. I push the door open. “Jesus,” I mutter at the sight before me.

  “Good evening.” My pulse stutters at the sound of Everly’s voice. She sits on a chair on the far side of the room. A feathered mask hides her face from me, but I can still see her luscious lips. Thigh-high red fishnet stockings hug her long legs. She’s wearing a matching red leather bra and panties. Even after three children, her stomach is toned and flat. If I have my way, we’ll make another baby tonight.

  “What’s this about?” I ask, unable to restrain my grin.

  “No questions, please.” In a graceful motion, she stands and taps a riding crop against the palm of her hand.

  “Why are we here?” I loosen the knot of my bowtie and take a step toward her. She stops my progress by placing the tip of her whip against my chest.

  “I just said no questions.” She shakes her head, setting the long, loose waves of her hair into motion. “We went over the rules last night. Are you a slow learner? Do we need to review?”

  “You know how much I hate surprises.” I shove aside the riding crop and continue advancing. “Do we need to review that?” I grab her bottom, pulling her against my torso.

  She wriggles free. Her façade breaks. An adorable scowl wrinkles her forehead. “Stop it. Be serious.”

  “Sorry, my love.” I clear my throat. “Carry on.”

  “Right.” She exhales, like she’s clearing her head. “Okay. Now. Remove your shirt. Take your time. I want to watch.”

  Slowly, I remove my cufflinks, pull my tie through my collar, and unbutton the front of the shirt. She trails the cool tip of the riding crop over the ripples of my abdomen, stopping just above my crotch. My dick, excited by this novel foreplay, thrusts against my zipper, eager for freedom. “Now what?”

  “Take out your cock and stroke it. Show me how grateful you are for my attention.” The tip of her tongue traces the curve of her lower lip.

  “And if I don’t?” I lower the zip. My erection peeks above the waistband of my boxers. I’m so damn hard that I can hardly think straight. The only thing that will cure the ache in my balls is the tight, wet heat of her pussy.

  “Then I’ll punish you, and I guarantee you’re not going to like it.” She circles around me. Her high heels click on the floor. The riding crop smacks against my ass. I squelch a laugh, not wanting to hurt her feelings because I love what she’s doing here. Her willingness to experiment keeps our sex life fresh.

  “I can hardly wait.”

  “Oh crap.” She frowns, dropping her persona again. “I forgot to pick up a new iPad for Josef.”

  “It’s okay. I took care of it.” Although we have a slew of nannies to watch over our boys, Everly insists on seeing to their needs. She rules our household with an iron fist, combining unconditional love with common sense. My instincts were right about her. She’s an amazing mother. “Now, where were we? I hope you were about to show me those gorgeous tits.”

  “Silence.” Another thwack of the riding crop lands against my ass. I flinch, surprised by the pleasure that follows the sting. She steps close enough for me to see the freckles on the bridge of her nose. “I can see that we need to review.”

  I’m lost in the soft blue of her eyes, the scent of her perfume, and the rise and fall of her breasts. She makes the world seem brighter and the evil of men a little less threatening. We’ve built a dozen hospitals together, repaired the broken infrastructure of our cities, and provided healthcare for all of our subjects. I owe the success of my kingdom to her.

  “Thank you, God,” I whisper, needing to show my gratitude to the universe for the gift of such an amazing woman.

  “What did I tell you? No talking.”

  Her nipples jut against the cups of her bra. I can’t wait to suck them into my mouth and hear her sweet cries as I pound her pussy. “I don’t do well with instructions,” I reply.

  “Then I suppose we’ll have to work on that.” She takes my tie from the chair where I dropped it and stuffs it into my mouth. Love and promise shine in her eyes. I lift an eyebrow as she snaps handcuffs on my wrists. With one hand on my chest, she pushes me back into the chair. Her long thighs straddle mine. Slowly, she lowers herself onto my lap and says, “Shall we begin?”

  Thank you for reading The Rebel Queen. For more billionaire badness, check out this snippet from Pretty Broken Girl, the first book of the Pretty Broken Series.

  PRETTY BROKEN GIRL

  ON A cold spring morning, I stepped into Joe’s Java Junction and shook the rain from my hair. At the order counter, a tall gentleman took his cup of coffee and turned toward me. Our gazes connected with the impact of two colliding automobiles. He froze in his steps, lips pursed to blow on the hot liquid, and drew in a sharp, startled breath.

  I stared into a set of familiar eyes over the rim of his cup as he took a sip. Recognition flared then extinguished in their depths. A tremor of panic shook my fingers, and I fought to maintain my composure. In all the years I’d lived in the city, I’d never once run into anyone from my past. I took comfort in the anonymity of living far from the small town where I’d grown up. In retrospect, I’d been a fool to believe my past was forgotten or that I could escape it so easily.

  We stood facing each other, shocked into wordlessness, until a woman touched his arm. She was tall, slender, and immaculate in a tight black pencil skirt and high-heeled pumps. Blonde hair formed a perfect ch
ignon at the nape of her neck. I smoothed a self-conscious hand over my brown hair, frizzy from the rain, and tried not to think about how it must look. Her gaze flicked from the man to me and back to the man again.

  “Samuel?” The low, cultured tone of her voice speaking his name sent a shiver down my back. “We’re going to be late.”

  His gaze disconnected from mine. I swallowed and stepped back, giving him a polite smile. He didn’t reciprocate. Instead, he turned to the woman and nodded, his hand resting on the small of her back. The contact was warm and intimate, the same way he’d touched me long ago. My chest tightened with emotions I’d thought forgotten.

  “Samuel.” This time, the woman’s voice held a note of annoyance.

  Once upon a time, this man and I had been more than acquaintances. He’d been the center of my universe, and I’d been his wife. I knew the way his hands felt on me, the way he looked when he came during sex, the way his skin tasted in the morning after his shower. Now we were nothing more than strangers with a shared past, brushing shoulders in a coffee shop, before moving onto our respective lives.

  “Miss? What can I get for you?” By the narrowing of the barista’s eyes, she’d asked me more than once.

  “Sugar-free vanilla non-fat latte with a double shot.” Although my lips formed the words, my gaze followed the back of Sam’s black trench coat out the door. He was taller than I remembered, his shoulders broader and his hair blonder. His driver met him on the sidewalk with an umbrella and ushered him to a silver BMW with blackout windows, the blonde at his side. I lifted a hand to the thin chain around my neck and fingered the plain gold band suspended on the end.

  “Your change, miss?” The annoyed voice of the barista suggested she’d lost her patience with me. I tore my attention from Samuel and back to the girl frowning in front of me.

 

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