by Vivian Wood
Was I really ready for this? Would I be able to pretend this game was what I wanted, when the truth was I wanted nobody but Amber?
Once again, my eyes combed through the crowd, trying to find her. It didn’t escape Freya, and I could feel her eyes on me, but I didn’t care. I needed Amber, sooner rather than later.
And there she was – a glimpse of her creamy, exposed thigh, a flash of that fiery hair she’d worn sleek on the first day. Amber had arrived, and suddenly, I didn’t have any patience left. I needed to speak to her then and there.
“Would you excuse me, lovely Freya?” I asked, and the platinum-haired beauty’s face fell, but rose for another second when I touched her slender, porcelain pale arm. “There’s someone I must see. But it has been lovely to chat. I hope to see you again soon.”
“And you, my Prince,” she muttered, curtsying and pouting just a little as I took my leave.
It pleased me. I couldn’t lie to myself – having the attention of thirteen women for the next few months would be like a dream come true for my younger self. But since my heart knew what it wanted – and that was only one of those thirteen women – I knew I was getting myself in for a world of trouble.
I followed the flash of red hair to its source and found Amber standing in a corner all by herself. When she saw me, her eyes lit up instantly, and she smiled wide. I let my eyes wander over her sensual body, loving the way that dress looked on her and exposed every curve she had to offer. It was suggestive, perhaps too much so for a royal event, but I couldn’t blame her for wearing it, especially when it made my cock as hard as it did, straining against the fabric of my pants.
“Looking absolutely incredible tonight, Amber Jonathan,” I told her with a grin, taking another step closer.
She curtsied for me, a shy little smile playing on her lips as her gaze connected with mine. There was hope in those gorgeous eyes. Hope I didn’t want to deny but knew I would have to, at least a few times during the duration of the selection.
“Thank you, Prince,” she replied, her voice a little shaky. “I’m so happy to see you again.”
“Likewise,” I replied, glancing at the people around us.
Everyone was staring, probably anticipating something would happen between us, watching for that frisson of exhilaration to flow between us when our skin connected. These people were vultures, eager to see Amber fail After all, my mother had made damn sure to let everybody know Amber was just a commoner, a girl I’d chosen personally to be part of the selection process, and one she most definitely did not approve of.
But I saw it as a challenge for Amber. My mother was a difficult woman to handle, but she wasn’t going anywhere. If Amber wanted to become my bride, she’d have to learn how to live with the Queen.
“There’s no privacy here,” I muttered to Amber, leaning in closer under the pretense of grabbing another champagne flute from the table next to her and using the opportunity to touch the small of her back. “I want you all to myself. Where no one can see.”
“You didn’t seem to feel that way last time,” she retorted, and I glanced at her to catch a self-satisfied little smirk on her face. “You wanted everyone to see me.”
I remembered the last time we’d been together. How I’d pushed her, made her best friend watch her getting used. How she fucking loved it, responding with such eagerness I thought she would come from a single flick of my fingers against her hardened, rosy pink nipple.
“Everyone’s seen enough already,” I winked at her, gesturing to her revealing dress. “Quite the outfit choice for a royal event, don’t you think, chérie?”
At the mention of the nickname I’d used for her before she flushed, but I could tell it was with pleasure.
“I had a minor misfortune with one of the other girls,” she admitted.
“Sabotage has already started?” I raised my brows, taking a sip of the golden bubbly. “I can’t say I’m surprised. Those girls must see you as a strong competitor to already be picking on you.”
“I suppose,” she shrugged. “But really, Prince Olivier, I-”
“There you are!”
A voice I knew very well interrupted us, and Amber and I both glanced in the direction of it. My mother approached us with a wide smile on her face, her attention focused solely on me. It was as if Amber didn’t exist.
However I felt about my mother, I was well aware I couldn’t openly defy her, especially at a social function. She ruled not only over the country, but over me as well, and oftentimes I despised her control over my life. But this was one aspect of my life she wouldn’t be able to control forever – after all, my father told me to pick a bride that would suit me, not the Queen. And goddamn, was I grateful for it.
“My son,” the Queen went on. “I’ve been looking all over for you. There’s someone I’d like you to meet. Will you please come with me?”
“We were actually in the middle of something,” I replied, motioning to Amber who was cowering in the corner. “Mother, this is Amber Jonathan, the woman I-”
“Oh, Olivier,” mother waved her hand dismissively without giving Amber the time of day. “I’m sure there will be plenty of time for introductions to the… others… at a later time.”
Now, she finally glanced at Amber, giving her a severe once-over. I could tell right away she didn’t approve, but I didn’t really give a damn. Amber was the one who was going to stay here until the very end, and I didn’t give a flying fuck what my mother thought of her. Still, I had some obligations to follow, and I knew if she requested my presence, I could do little do dissuade her.
“Come now, Olivier,” she called out, reaching out for me. “I want to introduce you to somebody very special.”
I shot Amber a glance, but knowing I didn’t have a choice, I fell into step behind my mother, following her to the other end of the room. Displeasure bubbled under my skin. Being a prince had its benefits, but once I was king, I wouldn’t stand for my mother’s whims.
The Queen took my arm in hers, greeting people as we made our way through the room. She was the picture of nobility and grace, just as beautiful as she had been when my father met her. Yet still, she managed to hiss at me, “I really don’t know what she’s doing here, that girl. It’s so obvious she doesn’t belong.”
“She does belong, mother,” I replied coldly. “Because she’s the end-fucking-game for me.”
“Language,” she hissed, then put on her perfect royal smile as we closed the distance between us and a pretty, timid girl wearing a lavender-colored gown. “Olivier, I’d like you to meet Stephanie Lalonde, the daughter of the Lalonde jewelers Marcia and Stefan.”
“Pleased to meet you,” I murmured, shaking the cautious beauty’s hand.
She barely responded, just nodded and curtsied. Either she was incredibly afraid, or she had no manners to speak of, but my bet was on the former, judging by the fact she could barely stand to meet my gaze for longer than a second.
Stephanie was a petite girl, her height almost warning me about her vulnerability. She had long strawberry blonde hair that had been styled to perfection, warm brown doe eyes and a smattering of freckles over her nose. In any other situation, I would’ve found her adorable. However, being forced to interact with her put a dampener on things.
Mother stared at us like we were circus animals and I never wanted to be elsewhere more than in that moment. Sharing a bed with Amber, touching her luscious body, seemed like a much better option than meeting women I had absolutely no interest in.
Yet as so many times before I was reminded of the promise I’d made to my father. I owed it to him and to my country to see the selection through, to see where fate took me and to see which woman was strong enough to stand through the court’s trials and tribulations.
This girl, Stephanie, seemed barely capable of holding my gaze, let alone competing for my attention.
“So,” I started awkwardly. “You are a Lalonde. That must be so thrilling.”
She stared at
me blankly and I fought back a sigh. I wanted to escape. To get as far away from it all as possible, with Amber in my arms. But my mother drove her elbow into my ribcage, forcing me to keep the conversation going.
“You look beautiful tonight, Stephanie,” I offered lamely, and she blushed so fiercely I thought she would ignite. “Would you excuse me for a moment?”
I tried to leave, but my mother was right behind me, spewing nonsense in my ear.
“How can you just walk away from her like that? She is a top prospect! She has everything it takes, Olivier. Class, beauty, and a fortune. Everything we need! You can’t just walk away from it all.”
“No?” I asked, turning to face her. “What are you going to do about it, mother? Are you going to force me to marry a woman I don’t desire?”
“I could,” she threatened in a low voice. She was trying to avoid a scene, just like always. “I could do as I damn pleased, Olivier! Do not forget, I am your Queen.”
“And some queen you are,” I told her bitterly. “Forcing your own son into things he doesn’t want to be a part of. You keep reminding me of father’s words, mother, but maybe you should remember them, too. He wanted me to pick my own wife. Without your fucking meddling. Let me breathe, mother. Or I’ll call this whole charade off.”
This seemed to cool her jets, and I left her standing there as I went in search of Amber again. I felt her enraged eyes on me as I made my way through the room, ignoring the daggers she was shooting at me.
Amber was my priority, but there were several other women who wanted a chance to speak to me, and I was soon pulled into their midst, showered with compliments and questions.
Amber was nowhere to be seen.
Chapter Five
Amber
I stared, astonished, as Olivier left with his mother.
I knew that woman didn’t like me. Before even being introduced to her she’d written me off, and it made me annoyed. If she had met and decided to hate me, fine, but to let her prejudice get the better of her was rude and uncalled for. I deserved to be treated better, and the thought of her poisoning Olivier’s head with the things she believed about me made me knit my eyebrows together with concern.
“Have you spoken to Olivier?”
I turned to my right side where Zara was standing, nervously twining her fingers together. “I did, but I think he hated me. Oh God, I must have been so boring. He must hate me. I don’t want to get eliminated tonight…”
“The elimination’s tonight?” I asked, chewing my bottom lip. A new habit, apparently. “And how many girls does he have to send home?”
“Just one,” Zara replied, biting her thumb. “I’m sure he’s sending me home. I made such a bad impression. I should’ve picked a different dress…”
“Why is this so important to you?” The question slipped out before I could reprimand myself, and she looked at me with eyes wide and wondering what the hell my problem was. “I’m sorry, I’m just curious. Have you met Olivier before?”
“No, of course not,” she said, shaking her head and smoothing down the front of her dress. “Have you?”
I dodged her question and fired another one at her, saying, “But why do you want to be his wife if you don’t even know him?”
“Well, how could I not?” she asked, a surprised laugh leaving her lips as if I were being silly. “He’s incredible. Rich, handsome… and he’s a prince. What more could you ask for?”
“How did you find out about this?” I followed up with another question. “Who told you he was picking a fiancée? Were you formally invited?”
“Yes,” she replied. “My parents received an invitation from the Luxurian court, and they allowed me to come here and pursue Olivier. What about you?”
“Same,” I replied vaguely, not wanting to delve into the specifics.
She’d find out soon enough it was all a lie. That I’d met Olivier before… even slept with him, for God’s sake. I had an unfair advantage in the game, and I didn’t want Zara to hate me because of it.
I felt nervous around the girl, knowing I had a leg up on her. I wasn’t there to make friends, of course, but Zara had been the only girl who’d made an effort with me so far and I didn’t want to make enemies straight out of the gate.
“Amber.”
We both turned in the direction of the voice, Zara letting out a little gasp as her eyes found Olivier standing next to us. He looked dashing as ever, and I felt the traitorous blush creeping back into my cheeks.
“Your Highness.” Zara curtsied, looking up at Olivier.
“Can I steal you for a moment?” he asked me with that irresistible smile, turning to face Zara. “So sorry, we just left our conversation… unfinished.”
“Of course,” Zara managed, blushing fiercely. “Certainly, go and talk…”
Olivier took me by the arm, gently but firmly. He led me away while everybody watched and I felt the eyes of every person in that ballroom following me out of the room.
I followed him out of the marble hallway, out into the gardens. They were gorgeous – the lush greenery accompanied with a heady floral scent that sent my head spinning. It felt like a special night, and it seemed as if the stars were shining just a little bit brighter, only for the two of us.
Olivier seemed solemn, and my eyes zeroed in on his impatient form. It didn’t take away from his imposing presence though, and once again, I found myself marveling at his statuesque frame.
“I’m sorry, chérie,” he said in a low growl, pacing before me as I stood with my back pressed against the wall, shivering against the sudden chill of the night. “I shouldn’t have left you like that.”
“I understand,” I managed to get out. “I suppose it’s hard to follow your own needs and wants when your mother is the Queen.”
“And that right there,” he said, stopping and smirking at me. “Is why I like you so much, Amber Jonathan. You can just read me like a book.”
I smiled, more to myself than to him, my heart pounding in anticipation. I was eager to speak about something else, to have him touch me again, yet Olivier seemed to be focusing on the one woman that came between us – his mother.
“She is the Queen,” he replied. “But that doesn’t give her free reign over my affairs. It’s hard to defy her though, especially in front of an audience like today. I’m sure you understand why I had to leave earlier.”
“I suppose,” I muttered, and he gave me a questioning look, making me sigh out loud. Just because I was competing for him and needed to impress him, I wasn’t going to swallow my pride every step of the way. I wouldn’t let his mother walk all over me. “I just wish you could stand up to her, if only a little.”
“Believe me, I spent most of my life doing just that,” he muttered, running a hand through his tousled golden curls. “But I learned my lesson, Amber. I need to be a better man, not just for my family, but for the country, too.”
I sympathized with the sentiment, but still thought he let his mother control him too much. I was pretty sure the whole selection thing had been her idea in the first place.
“Olivier…” I whispered, and he turned his eyes to mine. I saw the silent fire raging in his gaze, and he outstretched a hand, gently running it over my cheek. When his fingertips connected with mine, I felt cool fire raging under my skin, like a cold burn. I was eager for more. But first, I needed to ask the question that had been on my mind since the beginning.
“Why didn’t you just pick me?”
His eyes were on mine, and I got nervous, babbling to get the rest of my explanation out.
“I understand wanting to follow traditions, but we had such an amazing night together…” I whispered. “I thought it meant more to you.”
“Amber,” he said gently. “I told you that night it could only be a night that we shared together. A memory. Do you know how many strings I had to pull to get you here?”
I blushed fiercely.
“No need to remind me of just how unimportant I am,”
I bit out.
“Amber.” His tone held a warning that I refused to heed.
“No,” I said, fighting the wobble of my bottom lip. “I know what you’re trying to say. I’m not worth of a prince, am I? You think I’m worth less just because of my past. Your mother obviously wants you to pick that woman. Stephanie.”
Jealousy turned my stomach around and I turned my face to the side, eager to hide the treacherous tears making their way into my eyes. God, I hated myself for being such a jealous little girl. I wanted to show him how independent I was. Show him some of my qualities to distract him from the fact that I was from a poor family. And I was failing miserably.
“Well, who says I will pick Stephanie?” His eyebrows knit together. “You don’t know who I’ll pick.”
“That’s the problem!” I cried out, shaking my head in despair. “How am I supposed to compete with these girls? This isn’t normal, Olivier! Love isn’t supposed to be like this.”
“Love?” he repeated, smirking at me. “Who says we love each other, chérie?”
My bottom lip trembled. I was really going to cry.
“This is a game,” he told me, his tone softening when he saw the effect he was having on me. “You’ll do well to remember that.”
I felt the pressure in my chest rising, constricting my breathing and making anger flow through me. He didn’t get to treat me like this. I was supposed to be the favorite!
“God. You don’t care about me at all, do you?” I hissed.
His lips tightened into a thin line and I felt the first traitorous tear slip down my cheek. Then, before I’d had a chance to run off, he’d grabbed me by the arm and pulled me against him. I could feel the signet ring on his hand cutting into my skin, but I welcomed the sting.
His closeness was doing things to my body, making it respond even when I was eager to stop him. But I couldn’t. The man had an effect for me like no one else. While my mind wanted to defy him, my body was keen to please his.