His Forbidden Princess (Dirty Royals Book 3)

by Vivian Wood

  On the beach, Erik strips off his shirt. I nudge Kal, nodding. “Just look. That man is literally a hundred and forty percent muscles. Abs… delta… triceps…” I squint. “Okay, I’m not sure why I started naming actual muscle groups, because I don’t have any idea of what the rest of them are.”

  Kalindi lights up. “Ooh! Call on me. You just tell me what area of the body you’re trying to compliment, and I’ll try to fill in the blanks. We just learned all the muscles in human biology.”

  My lips lift. “Umm, pass. That’s work. We’re here to play.”

  She shakes her head and drinks the rest of her wine in a couple of swallows. “I’m going to bring the bottle out here.”

  She gets out of the hot tub, dripping wet, and runs inside. I’m left to sip my wine and watch as Erik disappears into the water down on the beach.

  5

  Annika

  Dusk has just fallen over the beach, coating everything in sight in a dusting of shadow. The ocean looks dark and intense as the last rays of light disappear over the horizon. Our enormous beach house is the only structure around for miles and its back patio spills right out onto the dunes of sand that lead down to the water.

  Other than the twinkle of fairy lights on the patio, it’s quickly growing dark. I open my arms to the unbelievable spread of the night sky. The stars wink down at me.

  Maybe tonight is the night.

  My best friend Kalindi looks over at me from her beach blanket, looking beautiful as ever. She has light brown skin and dark eyes, with hair as thick and lustrous as a raven’s wing. She leans back, adjusting her pink bikini.

  “What would you think about me snogging your brother?” she asks. Her accent is a mix of British and Indian influences, and her voice is melodic. But her words make me pull a face.

  “Which one?” I ask. “Don’t say Stellan. All my life, my friends have been asking me whether he is single.”

  She shakes her head with a soft smile. “No, Annika. I’m talking about Finn.”

  My eyebrows rise. “Finn?” I glance back toward the house, at the picnic tables where the older guys and their friends are sitting, Finn included. “Are you sure you mean him and not Anders?”

  Kalindi cocks her head. “What’s wrong with Finn?”

  I scrunch my face up. “Nothing. He’s just… odd. Remote. You are a beautiful ray of sunlight and I wouldn’t want him to dim your vibrancy, that’s all.”

  She rolls her eyes. “I just mean a casual make out, nothing serious.” She turns and looks at the group again, wrinkling her nose as they get up and head for the house. “I think I’m going to go inside and take a shower. This bathing suit is cute but itchy.”

  “Okay.” I sit back, noticing that a lone figure walks by us out toward where the water laps at the beach. With his ruggedly good looks and his pushed-back hair, I can spot Erik easily though it’s dark. “I’m going to stay for a while.”

  Kalindi shakes her head. “You shouldn’t like him, Nika. He’s almost ten years older than us.”

  Pouting, I look down at my sun-kissed skin in my tiny black bikini. “Erik is only seven years older than me, first of all. And second of all…” I look up at her. “It’s just snogging, as you say.”

  She shakes her head. “You are crazy. He doesn’t even know you’re alive.”

  That stings. I make a face. “I know.”

  She smiles. “Okay. As long as you realize. I’ll be inside, cleaning all this sandy goodness off of my limbs.”

  I nod, not watching her leave. My eyes find Erik again, silhouetted against the darkened beach. He wears jeans and a plain white button-up, his sleeves rolled up in a way that shows his bulging biceps. He bends over and rolls his jeans up to mid-calf. He keeps walking down a little further, submerging his bare feet in the foam left by the lapping sea. Without realizing it, I stand up, brushing myself off. It’s only when I’ve pulled my shorts and black t-shirt on that I realize that I’m going to go talk to him.

  I shiver. I have a half-hearted plan. A plan that involves me, Erik, and a hell of a lot of writhing and heavy breathing. If I can just talk to Erik about taking my virginity, I feel like a weight will be lifted from my shoulders.

  The subject of my innocence, of being the perfect and pure princess that Denmark expects… it has caused almost as many panic attacks as seeing my face in the tabloids ever has. I can’t hope to live up to the sterling standard that has been set out for me.

  So I will shed my virtue. Make it less of an issue. I just need someone to take my virginity.

  Someone who I find attractive. But more important, I need someone kind. Erik may be stuffy… but the last thing that I think when I look at him is that he is cruel.

  It just doesn’t exist in him. I can tell.

  Shoving my fingers through my hair, I take a deep breath. As I pad barefoot through the sand, I give myself a mini-pep talk.

  Just be casual.

  Don’t be an awkward weirdo.

  Play it cool!

  A few feet away, Erik turns and notices me. His expression hardens for a split second and then he turns away.

  “What do you want, Annika?”

  I freeze. This is not the reception I anticipated. Far from it, actually.

  Walking forward to pull even with him, I take a deep breath. But when I speak, my tone is pouty.

  “I didn’t realize that you had the whole entire beach booked up,” I say, gesturing to the vast darkness surrounding us.

  He looks at me sharply but doesn’t respond right away. I take a moment to drink him in. He’s extremely tall, taller even than my older brother Stellan’s massive height. His body is perfect and muscular without being too bulky. He has a face that is made for movies, with high cheekbones and long eyelashes, and these deep green-brown eyes that make me melt.

  Erik grunts. Half a minute goes by, with me looking at his gorgeous face and him gazing out at the horizon. He finally says, “Stellan is a fucking asshole.”

  I squint, crinkling my whole face. “It must be so hard to be best friends with the king of Denmark. Especially when it means you basically get a free ride wherever you go.”

  As soon as I say it, I wish I could take it back. There is something about Erik that makes me mean and petty when I really want to be sweet.

  He lets out a bark of laughter. “You are a brat, Annika. A spoiled little brat. You know that?”

  My face heats. Of course, I know that.

  “No,” I say, sticking my tongue out at him.

  He scans me head to toe and then shakes his head. “Yes. You are.”

  He turns around, walking back toward the house. My heart wrenches; this was my chance to sweet talk Erik a little. Maybe tell him that I think he’s dreamy. Ask him to take my virginity. If all else fails, I can probably seduce him.

  Now that chance is ruined.

  I curse my mouth, which operates on its own sometimes. When Erik stops a few feet away and picks up a bottle of liquor, I raise my brows.

  He uncaps it and takes a long pull, letting out a gasping sound when he’s done. He turns back to me, holding the bottle out to me.

  “Whiskey?”

  A breeze blows, making me shiver as I jog the couple of steps toward him, taking the bottle from his hand. He casts another glance at me as I uncork the bottle.

  “You should be inside,” he murmurs. “Where it’s warm and safe.”

  I take a sip of the whiskey and wince as it burns its way down my esophagus. It’s half a minute before I can speak. “Safe? Safe from what?”

  Erik looks at me, smirking a little and shrugging. “I don’t know. Give me the bottle back, little girl.”

  I narrow my eyes at him, handing it over. Our fingers brush, our gazes collide. His serious eyes are shadowed so I can’t read his expression exactly, but for a split-second I swear there is a carnal interest there.

  That, or I’m just imagining what I want to see.

  Erik’s eyes dart away. He takes another long slug from
the bottle. Then he pulls a face. “This whiskey is bullshit.”

  I wipe a couple of drops from the corner of my mouth, not really knowing how to respond. I’m nineteen; it’s not like I have a ton of whiskey tasting experience.

  “It’s better than some,” I come up with at last.

  He eyes me skeptically. “Ja. It will get you drunk, which I guess is what counts.”

  I study him. “Are you? Drunk, I mean.”

  He turns to stare stonily out at the waves. “Maybe.” He squints. “I’m on vacation. I almost never get to relax.”

  He sounds defensive. I shrug my shoulders.

  “I’m not judging. I was just curious. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drunk.”

  He looks at me again, screwing his handsome face up. “Ja, okay.”

  When he offers me the bottle again, I shake my head. “No. I like champagne, not whiskey.”

  He lifts a shoulder. “Suit yourself.” Tipping his head back, he drinks.

  I watch his neck as he gulps the liquor down. I notice his lips then, looking plump and perfectly kissable. Licking my own lips, I let my gaze wander down his body. His arms are both bare and impressively muscular. I can see a hint of the definition of his abs in his tight white t-shirt.

  Before I realize it, words are leaving my mouth. “I changed my mind. I want some.”

  Erik raises his brow. “All right.”

  He takes a step toward me, handing me the bottle. I let the bottle drop to the ground, putting my arms around his neck. He gives me a startled look.

  “Wait— “

  I am too close to finding out what his lips taste like to stop now. I push up on my tiptoes and press my mouth against his, hesitating once my lips touch his. He seems frozen for a second, his brain taking a moment to catch up to reality. His eyes sink closed.

  Then his hands find my lower back, drawing me against the firmness of his body. At the same time Erik deepens the kiss. No more peck on the mouth; his kiss is rough and dominant, his lips working against mine.

  I open my mouth to him, and he takes every inch I give him, sweeping his tongue inside my mouth like a man staking his claim on unchartered territory for the very first time.

  A rugged rumble leaves his chest. If I weren’t kissing him, I would have missed it. But it spurs me on, makes me spear my hands into the back of his short flaxen hair.

  That’s all it takes to make him push me back a step. His eyes fly open, shocked.

  “Fuck,” he grits out. “Oh, fuck. That… that should not have happened.”

  My cheeks go pink. “Erik— “

  He shakes his head, cutting me off. “No, no, no. That… I mean, you’re barely nineteen! You’re my best friend’s baby sister.”

  I shrug. “So?”

  He looks horrified. “So? So, your brother will kill me if he ever finds out. It doesn’t matter that I’m drunk…”

  I bite my lower lip, looking at him. “I won’t tell. It’ll be just between us.”

  Erik shakes his head. “This is bad. This… this can’t happen again.”

  And with that, he picks up the whiskey bottle and starts a slow jog back to our beach house. I stare after him, touching my still-warm lips with my fingers.

  Despite everything that Erik just said, my lips still curve upward.

  I stand amongst the sand dunes, as the moon comes out to light the night with its soft glow. It’s my only comfort as I watch Erik’s figure walk away.

  6

  Erik

  Annika is the devil. That’s the simplest explanation for the torture that she’s been inflicting on me.

  That kiss… that brief moment where I lost control and just took what I wanted from her. Her soft lips hot against mine, a little hesitant once they brushed my suddenly sensitive skin.

  Fuck.

  My hands clenched as they slid around her waist. My cock instantly hardened. She made this sound… this soft moan… And she tasted like cotton candy with whiskey overlaid, somehow at the same time.

  It doesn’t get much more erotic than that. I guess I can’t let my guard down around Annika… although she found me at the beach while I was drinking.

  She kissed me.

  I just shouldn’t have liked it so fucking much. What in the hell is wrong with me?

  Two days later when I’m stonily staring at my little desk in my bleak little office, I’m still thinking about it. I can still feel the weight of her in my hands.

  This… this insanity… has to stop. A young brunette from the royal press office pokes her head into my office and I sit up straight as an arrow.

  “Haj,” she says. “I have your altered schedule here.”

  She holds a sheaf of paper out toward me and I beckon her forward. “I’ll take it now. Thanks.”

  She hands me the schedule. I leaf through it, a sigh on my lips. Every single engagement that I set up for Stellan is now wiped clean from my schedule. Even the things that I personally lobbied for, like a meeting with the local high school students interested in technology.

  Gone.

  What a bunch of bullshit. Instead my schedule now contains more galas and soirees, plus luncheons for Annika’s preferred charities. It looks like she has a lot of art museums and a ton of meetings with fashion designers on her upcoming schedule. Great, two things I couldn’t give a quarter of a fuck about.

  Rereading the first page, I check my watch. Shit, if I don’t hurry, I’m going to be late. I don’t even know where I should meet Annika to leave for this luncheon.

  Grabbing my dark wool suit jacket, I put it on as I rush upstairs to Annika’s quarters. When she returned from boarding school last year, it was decided that Annika was too young to live on her own. So, she’s still on the top floor of the palace, in a suite of rooms that would be otherwise unoccupied.

  I head up the staircase and down a hallway which is a perfect replica of Stellan’s hallway, except done in hushed royal navy tones. Dark blue carpet, soft blue drapes, demure blue upholstered chairs at ten-foot intervals. The walls are hung with the same gilded mirrors and paintings of long-past relatives.

  When I knock on Annika’s door, her response is immediate, as though she were waiting for me. “Enter!”

  I open the heavy dark wood door suspiciously. When I step in, I find Annika in the sitting room. The room looks totally unlike any other in the palace, though… it’s like she emptied the room of all its furniture and replaced it with an eclectic blend of expensive, modern pieces.

  In the corner, I see that she’s set up an area dedicated to a three-way mirror and several lights. All the lights are turned on and focused on a single spot before the mirror.

  What a waste of resources.

  Annika herself is seated on a low gray tweed couch near the window. A blond male hairdresser is standing behind her, holding a can of hairspray and a comb, pursing his lips. Her hair is long and lustrous as per usual; I’m not sure what if anything he is even here for.

  “It’s done,” he announces.

  Annika turns, taking me in. She looks amazing in a stylish light pink dress, but then again, she always looks like that. Her lips twitch and her eyes shine with something akin to mischief.

  “Thank you,” she tells the hairdresser. “I’ll see you again in the morning.”

  He walks out, casting a dour look over me as he goes. I look at my watch again.

  “We’re already late to your first appointment,” I say, adjusting my cuff. “We should leave immediately.”

  She stands up, rolling her eyes. “Oh, that’s a little trick that the royal press office tries to pull. They write down everything two hours earlier on my schedule in a blatant attempt to manipulate me into showing up early for events. I just ignore it and show up later.”

  I hunch my brow at that. “I see.”

  She walks over to a full-length mirror, stepping into the first of four pairs of heels that are laid out for her. She looks at her reflection and then kicks the shoes off, leaving them haphazard
ly on the floor. Then she slips on another pair, looks in the mirror, and poses.

  I stand near the doorway, wondering if I should bring up what happened over the weekend. She doesn’t seem troubled by the incident… but maybe I should be worried about that.

  After all, the kiss felt earth shattering when it happened. For me, anyway…

  Annika turns, pursing her lips. “Which pair of shoes makes me look the most fuckable?”

  She sticks out her leg, modeling a shoe for me. I stare at her for a second.

  Yeah, we definitely need to talk.

  “I don’t know,” I say, adjusting the knot in my tie. “But I think we need to lay down some boundaries, Annika.”

  She looks up at me, her eyes dancing with merriment. “Like safe words? Mine will be forage. Or do you mean a list of sex acts that are labeled red, yellow, and green?”

  I shoot her a look. “That kind of humor is not allowed, for one thing.”

  She rolls her eyes. “You really are a drag, you know that?”

  I fold my arms across my chest and narrow my eyes at her. “I think it’s important that we talk candidly to prevent any confusion between us. What happened at the beach the other day— “

  She grins, interrupting me. “Are you trying to tell me that it was super hot?”

  I flush. Did I fantasize about that moment later when I was drunk and alone? Yes. Did I think about her when I was stroking my cock? Definitely.

  But I’m not proud of it… and she doesn’t need to know about it, either.

  “It was out of line. It’s the reason that we need boundaries. A very firm set of rules of engagement, so that nothing untoward ever happens again.”

  Annika pulls a face. “Untoward? What are you, my grandmother?”

  I glower at her. “I’m serious, Annika.”

  She favors me with a long look. “Things happen, Erik. We’re both pretty people. We were both in the same place at the same time. So what? So, we kissed. Big deal.”

  She turns away, kicking off her heels and slipping her feet into another pair. I take a moment to absorb her words.