by E V Darcy
The girls had become her surrogate sisters, while the boys became her annoying brothers—something she’d relished. Finally, something just for her, something Victoria, Pippa, and Alexi would never know.
Roman never fell into the brother category. From the moment she’d met him she’d been lost to his good looks; his rich, amber eyes seeming to see right through her, touched her in a way no other ever had or been able to since.
Of course, as soon as Jensen discovered her crush on his brother, he’d tried to impersonate Roman multiple times to catch her out. But while he could fool almost everyone else, his eyes weren’t Roman’s. She always knew.
‘Seriously,’ she said after Jensen tucked his phone away after sending a message to someone. ‘Why are you dressed like Roman? I thought you’d given up pretending to be him.’
Jensen shrugged his shoulders, staring out across the dark ocean only illuminated by the low-hanging, full moon. The crests of the waves, bright white in the moon’s light, rose and fell, crashing over the shoreline, threatening to tickle their feet as they went.
‘Do you ever wish you could just…’ He sighed and bent low to pick up a dazzling white shell half buried in the sand. He dropped his shoes and kept his eyes on his prize as he brushed the sand away, running his finger over the curves and curls, before throwing it back into the ocean. ‘Do you ever wish you weren’t part of the royal family or a Snape? That you’d not been smarter than everyone else and just been able to go to an academy like the rest of the country, instead of earning your degrees at sixteen?’
Her bottom lip rolled between her teeth as she listened to his words, trying to work out what he wasn’t saying. Something big had happened, and he was desperately unhappy about it. However, the problem with Jensen was that for all the talking he did, he never knew how to discuss the important stuff.
‘I suppose it would have been nice to have had more friends,’ Hattie said, honestly. ‘But then, having my PhD by nineteen was rather nice too.’
‘But the rest?’
She sighed as she pointed him towards her house, and they turned to head towards it. It was small, far smaller than he probably expected, and while she could have afforded much bigger, she’d immediately fallen in love with its cute exterior and the intimate space inside.
‘I suppose it would have meant a different way of life not being in my family—in both aspects. Although it can be infuriatingly annoying, being the granddaughter of the King, it hasn’t really hindered me in any way, not the way Victoria has suffered for it.’ She shrugged. ‘It certainly opened plenty of doors for me without me even needing to ask.’
‘So, you wouldn’t change that, but what about being a Snape?’
Hattie ground her teeth at the thought of her father and how much he’d changed after her mother had passed away. He’d become cold, distant; focused too much on his business and never on them. Hell, he’d been the one to send her on the gifted programme just weeks after his wife’s death. Her mother hadn’t wanted her to go and had she not died, Melinda would never have allowed it—not at just thirteen-years-old.
But if she hadn’t gone, she’d have never met Roman, Jensen, or any of her other friends. And for as much as Roman had hurt her in the end, for most of those four years he’d been a friend to her the way no other ever had. Not even Jensen.
‘No,’ Hattie finally said as they reached the back of her beach cottage. The little decked balcony that overlooked the sandy shore wasn’t very big and standing next to Jensen, who was as broad as he was tall, it felt even smaller. She opened the door and stepped inside, Jensen slowly following. He stood in the doorway, fidgeting with the buttons on his jacket until she flicked on the table light.
‘Cosy.’
‘It does me,’ she said, falling onto the overstuffed couch. She smiled up at him and patted the seat next to her. ‘I love it here. It’s calm, out of the way, so peaceful. I barely see my neighbours because they’re all second homes… And it’s not as if any of my cousins are going to rock up to a place like this.’ She snorted at the thought of one of the royal cars pulling up in front of the colourful row of tiny beach cottages.
‘I don’t think I’ll ever get my head around your mother being a princess and that your grandfather is the freaking King. Doesn’t seem real with you being… Well, you.’
‘It’s all overrated,’ she said with a sigh. ‘I mean it’s not so bad for Pippa, Alexi, and myself, but for Victoria it can be a bit of a nightmare. The Lady Blake, la-de-dah. You couldn’t pay me to do it.’ Hattie rested her head back against the sofa to stare up at the ceiling. ‘What about you?’ she asked before he could say anything about Victoria. ‘You wish you weren’t a Tyrrell? Or clever? Or a twin?’ She turned her head to face him at the last question. ‘Can’t imagine that’s easy.’
‘D’you know that when Roman and I did our entry tests for the programme, I scored eleven points more than him? I was only five behind you.’ He raised a brow in a perfect arch the way she’d never been able to do. She stared at it for a second before meeting his eyes again. While Roman’s eyes had always seared her soul, Jensen’s filled her with warmth. They brought a smile to her face even when she didn’t want them to.
‘So, if you’re the smarter twin, why aren’t you vice president of your father’s company?’
It was Jensen’s turn to snort. ‘That would mean I’d have to wear getups like this’—he waved his hand at his outfit—‘all the time. No thanks.’ He shook his head and turned his attention to the room. His eyes landed on the table next to him and the radio that took pride of place there. He pressed the on button and the smooth voice of the late-night radio host filled the room, announcing the next song.
‘Dance with me,’ Jensen said, turning back to her and holding out his hand. She shook her head but smiled as she put her hand in his, allowing him to pull her from the couch as he stood. His arms wrapped around her waist and gathered her against his body, nestling her in a cocoon of warmth. They moved together slowly, their bodies swaying as one, while Billy Paul’s “Me and Mrs Jones” swirled around them.
‘What happened with you and Roman?’ he murmured into her hair. ‘For years it was almost like you were his twin and then one day you and Fiona are screaming at each other and he… Well, you know better than anyone. The truth, Hattie. Please?’
She shifted, not leaving his embrace but drew back slightly so she could meet his gaze. Perhaps, if she hadn’t met Roman first, maybe if Jensen had been the one to see her that first night, curled up on her duvet, shivering and shaking with sobs, not understanding why she’d been sent away, why her mother had died, and why her father no longer wanted her, he’d have been the one to capture her heart. But it had been Roman who’d walked past her room that night and heard her heartbreak. Roman who had wrapped his arms around her and given her a shoulder to cry on, who’d told her he’d watch out for her and promised she wouldn’t be alone…
‘We slept together.’ The words fell out of her mouth, surprising even her. She opened her mouth to try and take them back, but Jensen was already nodding.
‘I see.’ He said the words slowly, and she couldn’t work out if the news was a surprise or not. ‘We all suspected, but neither of you said anything.’
‘He hated me afterwards.’ She ducked her head, feeling that same shame she had all those years ago, one she just couldn’t grow out of. ‘He said I cornered him. That I made him cheat on Fiona and that—’
‘The bastard,’ Jensen muttered the curse, making her look back up. ‘Their whole relationship is based around their names,’ he told her with a shake of his head. ‘You keep saying they must be happy together, but they don’t love each other. They see other people all the time; it’s just a match made on paper. Good business sense. She’s the heir to the Martin line, and Roman…Well, I’m sure father has already made it so that Roman inherits everything on our side.’
Hattie blinked at the revelation. ‘What?’ she whispered.
�
�I mean,’ he said, stopping their slow dance, his brows furrowed as he thought. ‘Maybe it didn’t start out that way, maybe they did love one another once.’ Hattie wondered if he was simply trying to backtrack at the look of devastation she couldn’t hide. She’d built up a world in her head of Roman’s life now, one of love and happiness, one she’d put there to stop herself from hating him, and with just a few words it collapsed.
‘Oh, Hattie.’ Jensen started to move again, leading her once more in a slow sway in time with the music. ‘Have you been carrying that guilt with you all this time?’
She licked her lips, feeling her own brows pulling down into scowl. She always wore her emotions on her sleeve Victoria was always telling her. She needed to control them better or the world would use them against her.
‘Hey.’ He took a hand from her waist and gently lifted her chin. When she still didn’t meet his gaze, he ducked his head to hers. ‘You didn’t do anything wrong. My brother can be a dick. He gets it from our father.’
‘What about your mother?’
‘Nicest woman you’ll ever meet. Poor taste in men. Roman’s her favourite.’ A giggle slipped from Hattie’s lips. ‘Attagirl,’ Jensen said as he suddenly turned her and dipped her low. She laughed again, holding on to his arm, frightened he might drop her, but she knew he never would.
His face lost all trace of amusement, his eyes far more serious than she’d ever seen them. They almost reminded her of Roman’s…
‘I hope you don’t mind,’ Jensen murmured as he slowly brought her back to her feet. ‘But I’m going to kiss you now, Henrietta.’
She hadn’t minded in the slightest. What she did mind was Jensen leaving bed at the crack of dawn. The light that came through the still open drapes was almost grey, not unheard of for the end of February, but still unusual considering they were supposedly getting an early start to the spring season.
‘Where are you going?’ she mumbled, rubbing her face against the pillow before turning to peer blurry eyed at Jensen’s bare arse disappearing inside his trousers. ‘No underwear? You were definitely wearing some last night.’
He chuckled as he tucked himself away before carefully easing up the zipper. ‘Feel a little more myself without anything on under the monkey suit.’
‘Do you go commando often?’
‘Would you like me to?’
She smiled up at him, pulling the blanket around her before burying her face back in her pillow.
‘What are we doing?’ she asked, her voice muffled. She felt like a blushing virgin. Well, at least how she probably should have felt after losing her virginity; warm, content, and safe.
Not that Roman had made her feel unsafe, but he’d certainly made her confused, sad, and utterly decimated as he’d quickly gathered his clothes up as he backed out of the door, all the while telling her that it had never happened, that no one would believe her if she told them, that he’d pay her to keep it quiet if he had to. It had been all her fault…
The bastard.
She felt the bed dip before a kiss was pressed to the back of her head, dissolving the sour feeling deep in her stomach. She bit down on the feather filled pillow to stop the girlish giggle that wanted to spill from her lips.
‘I dunno,’ he admitted, running his fingers through her hair before gently coaxing her to raise her head to look at him. ‘But I’m game if you are.’
Hattie pursed her lips as she assessed him. His olive skin was warmed by a small blush as his golden-amber eyes showed his sincerity. This was a side to her friend she’d never seen before and she was intrigued.
‘I’m not going to end up half-naked in London again, am I?’
Jensen threw his head back in a bark of laughter. ‘I promise, no half-naked escapades… Maybe some full ones,’ he said as he tugged the blankets away from her body, revealing her naked back and derrière to him. He probably expected her to squeal and hurry to cover her modesty, but she was far too practical. After everything they’d done last night, she had no modesty left.
‘I think we should have them now.’ She pouted as she rolled onto her back, allowing him to see the fullness of her nakedness again.
He groaned at the sight, his hands reaching out to slide over her shoulders and across her smooth skin to between her breasts. He leaned forward, dropping his head to hers to take her lips again in a kiss. She returned it whole heartedly, eagerly even, opening her mouth to deepen the kiss as his hands sneaked lower over her stomach.
She twisted her hips as his hand almost reached its goal, rolling back onto her front and breaking the kiss. She gazed up at him and fluttered her lashes, innocently.
‘You’re wearing too many clothes for this to go any further.’ His eyes searched her face, something serious settling within them just as it had the previous evening. Her smile slowly fell; he really was going to leave.
‘I gotta go and sort some things out,’ he said, pulling away and standing once more. He grabbed the shirt from the floor by the door and shrugged into it as she, fuming at the audacity of the man to screw her and leave—just like his bloody brother!—she scrambled to her knees, pulling the blankets back around her.
‘So, not only do you both look alike, but you also treat me the same too.’
He cursed under his breath before he turned back to face her. Okay, perhaps she still held a little grudge against Roman, and while it wasn’t fair to take it out on Jensen, right now he was the twin that was standing there and this was scarily familiar.
‘Don’t, Hattie,’ he said, firmly. ‘It’s not like that. If I don’t go and deal with this now, then this’—he motioned between them—‘isn’t even gonna get a chance to begin.’ She frowned as he picked up his tie and disappeared through the bedroom door back into the living room.
What the hell was he talking—
A sinking feeling in her stomach had her staring at the door before she threw herself off the bed, wrapping the sheet around her body and following him into the other room.
‘You’re seeing someone, aren’t you? And you’ve just turned me into the other bloody woman, just like him!’
‘What? No!’ Jensen turned, his hands pausing in the middle of trying to do his tie at her question. ‘I am not my brother, I don’t cheat- How the hell do you do these things?’
Hattie rolled her eyes and moved towards him, slapping his hands out of the way as she took over. She felt his eyes on the top of her head as she focused on the Half-Windsor she was trying to do.
‘When I get back—and I am coming back,’ he told her firmly as he slipped his fingers under her chin and gently coaxed her head up. ‘When I get back, we need to have a proper talk. Last night was amazing, but I think we need to lay all our cards on the table.’
She took a deep breath before releasing the air slowly. Her eyes dropped to the finished knot, tightening the material when it was in place, and gave it a pat of satisfaction. Her fingers lingered as she raised her gaze back to his.
‘Sounds good.’
It didn’t. Last night had been free and easy, she thought as she accepted the kiss he pressed to her forehead before he made to leave, but she had a feeling it wasn’t going to be from here on out.
Jensen stopped as he opened the door to her porch and glanced back at her over his shoulder. He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. She lifted her hand in a small wave before he stepped through the doorway and let it close behind him, disappearing from her sight.
Her friend was hiding something; he’d come here with a plan and while she wasn’t certain if their sleeping together had been part of it, if he thought he was going to be able to carry on with whatever scheme he was running without first explaining to her what the hell was going on, he had another think coming.
If sleeping with her had been part of whatever plot he was hatching, he better be ready to grovel on his hands and knees for forgiveness for using her instead of just asking for her help.
She snorted at the idea of him on his knees—he’d bloody
well do it too—as she headed back towards the bedroom and her en-suite for a shower. She was going to wash up, get dressed, and head down to the little town of Haleton, to the bakery she loved so much. With all the calories she’d burned last night, she deserved an apple and cinnamon bun, no questions asked.
The thing was, she mused as she switched on the shower to allow the water to heat up, she’d always thought that if she’d ever slept with Jensen it would feel wrong, that she’d in some way be cheating on Roman—which her mind knew was crazy—but it hadn’t. Okay, so no fog had suddenly cleared for her to realise that Jensen had been the one she should have been pining for all along, but it hadn’t felt wrong. If anything, she was more conflicted about why she wasn’t conflicted!
She was still going to make Jensen work for whatever he was scheming though. She smirked at herself in the mirror, sticking her tongue out before spinning around to leave the room.
She hummed a merry little tune as she headed to her small dressing room to plan her outfit for the day, all the while plotting what hoops she’d make her handsome friend jump through before she finally and inevitably gave in to whatever it was he wanted from her. She always did, after all.
She was trying to figure out exactly how to get him almost-naked, halfway around the world, when the toot of a horn sounded outside her house. She hurried to the window, peeking through the slats in the wooden shutters to see Jensen beckoning at her from the back seat of a large Bentley Mulsanne. A strange sight in itself, Jensen loved to drive himself everywhere, but the sight of him half hanging out of the window, tie flapping in the wind, made her laugh so much she thought nothing of his change in transport as she grabbed a slip and threw it on before heading out.
‘I thought you were leaving?’ she called gaily as she opened the outer door of her porch and saw him leaning through the window to try and catch sight of her down the steep steps that led from the road to the front of her cottage.