by Amelia Wilde
But Marcus isn’t finished with me.
“Do you understand now, little brother? You’re not the only one who matters in this country,” he snarls menacingly.
“Fuck off, Marcus.” I spit back, my voice strangely calm.
“As the crown prince, I consider it my duty to ensure that you’ve finally come around to—.”
“I’m not coming around to anything. You are the ones making a goddamn grave mistake.”
Without thinking, I’m heading toward the gardens located on the side of the palace, a place I used to spend time alone with my mother. Marcus continues following me, relentless in his needling, and I open the door to the garden with a bang that sounds like a gunshot. He trails out behind me, still shooting off at the mouth.
“I just don’t see it, Alexander. What could a common woman from the United States possibly mean to you? You’ve always been so blind. So sadly blind. Are you coming to realize that you have a part to play as a prince of Saintland? Are you finished being so self-absorbed?”
I stop, turn to face him, closing the distance between us in one step. With a roar, I grip the front of his jacket with both of my fists, shoving him up forcefully against the palace wall.
“Don’t you ever speak of her again, you fucking waste of a human,” I bellow into his face, holding him up a few inches from the ground and shaking him. “Never again, or so help me God. I love her, and there’s not a damn thing you and father can do about it. Is that understood?”
Marcus’s eyes dart to the side.
Too late, I see the photographer who has climbed up onto the garden wall. He’s holding his camera in one hand and has his phone positioned at an angle towards us in the other, capturing our every word and movement.
Chapter 21
Jessica
I don’t see or hear from Alec for a couple of days, but I know that he’s busy. The local news station is constantly running interviews with him, and reports are ongoing about what the royal family is doing in preparation for the country’s upcoming annual Summer Festival. Claire explains to me that the event celebrates the country’s independence and tradition. Even though Saintland is a relatively new nation, they established traditions early on, and the Summer Festival is one of them.
My heart beats faster and I get goose bumps when I see him onscreen, smiling widely at the citizens of Saintland who rush to shake his hand. Alec is the complete package. He’s so handsome, and his goodness and genuine rapport with people radiates from the TV screen. It makes my heart flutter to think that of all the people he meets and reporters he jokes with, I’m the one who knows Alec the animal, and how sexy and dirty he can be in the privacy of our bedroom.
I only wish that his father wasn’t a source of tension for him. During our last date, I could sense it in the stiffness of his shoulders and in his uptight expression.
Maybe this deluge of appearances is a sign that he’s smoothed things over with his father and brother.
I’m watching one of his interviews, recorded earlier in the day, and reveling in the gorgeous lines of Alec’s handsome face, when Claire arrives for the afternoon. She’s planned more shopping and a sightseeing venture outside the city.
When she enters my suite, I know immediately that something isn’t right by the worried look in her eyes.
Before I can question Claire, the TV interview with Alec ends abruptly, the announcer suddenly rising from her seat and shaking his hand, nonchalantly bridging the gap between segments with light commentary about how busy it is to be a member of the royal family.
“Good morning, Jessica,” Claire says, sitting down next to me on the sofa. “You look lovely. Are you ready for shopping and lunch?”
“Thank you,” I say, glancing down at the sleeveless dress I chose with the team yesterday. It’s a sea green color that sets off my deep auburn hair, which looks better than ever thanks to the attention of Saintland’s best stylists. I’ve never once colored it, but somehow in their hands the color is more vibrant, smooth and shiny.
But that, I remind myself sternly, is completely beside the point.
“I am,” I answer, “but I’m not going until you tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong,” she protests, firing me an unconvincing smile.
“Claire. You’re supposed to be my faithful companion,” I say, looking at her with a hint of disappointment. “What’s going on? If it’s a personal matter, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
“No, it’s not that…”
“Spill.” I give her a pointed look.
Claire bites her lip and considers me for a long moment, as if trying to make up her mind about something. Then, pulling her oversize purse into her lap, she reaches into it to retrieve a small tablet that she carries everywhere with her. Scrolling her index finger across the screen, she begins to speak, seeming to take care with each word.
“Some news has broken about Prince Alexander that involves you.”
As her words sink in, my mind spins into overdrive. Why would people care about me? I’m a nobody here in Saintland. There was that photographer following us at the canal, but Alec didn’t seem very troubled by it. The media like to report on the comings and goings of the royal family, but there was nothing special or unusual about our walk together by the canal.
Have they dug up something from my past? I can’t think of anything that could be considered scandalous by the media, unless they’re opposed to changing degrees and transferring colleges.
What the hell could it be?
“Claire, I don’t—.”
Claire swipes at the tablet a few more times, then turns the screen so I can see it..
The gossip site headline screams, “PALACE SCHISM OVER MYSTERY WOMAN.”
The photo of Alec and another man—the caption names him as the crown prince Marcus, his brother—has been shot from a high angle, looking down on them. Alec’s teeth are clenched, his face appears to be red with anger, and worst of all, he is holding Marcus up against what looks to be a garden wall by the collar of his jacket. .
Oh, shit.
Things must be worse between them than I thought, and it’s all because of me.
Shock must be evident on my face, because Claire tries to soften the blow. “They haven’t identified you by name,” she says, closing the tablet and patting me on the arm. “It’s just that I’m just not sure what this will mean for…for the rest of your stay.” She finishes the comment rather lamely, and we sit in awkward silence for a few moments.
Then, Claire gets hold of herself, her demeanor reverting to its usual unfailing professionalism. “In the meantime,” she chirps brightly, “I have had no word from Prince Alexander that our schedule should change. Shall we shop?”
“Oh—sure,” I agree, even as the photograph and headline spin endlessly in my mind. What’s going to happen now? What if this is the end of Alec and me? What if I’m forced to leave Saintland?
Claire and I head off down to the street, crossing over a few blocks to reach the main shopping district in Sainthall. We browse through a few shops, but I don’t see anything on the racks that strikes my fancy.
This situation with Alec and his family is out of control, and something has to change.
Should that something be me?
Why is this so agonizing?
Because you love him, more than you’ve ever loved anyone.
The answer rings out crystal clear like a bell in my mind, its chime resonating all the way to my heart.
It’s true.
But how can I force myself to fit in with Alec’s family?
When we’re back out on the street, my mind still reeling, I notice that the people on the sidewalk are casting me sidelong glances as I pass them by. Some of them look at me with expressions of pity and empathy, but others look…angry.
Maybe this is what happens when you take a risk on being with someone, when you say yes to a man without giving it thorough and proper consideration.
“Claire,” I say, my voice low. “They’re all looking at me, aren’t they?”
“Yes,” she says, not bothering to lie. “No one knows your name yet, but everyone has seen your face in the paper or on their computer screen.”
My instinct is to raise my chin and not let them disrupt my day, but suddenly, I’m back in boarding school, struggling to fit in; I’m back in New York, looking in from the outside on my rich friends as they lead dream lives.
“You know,” I say lightly, “I’m in the mood for an afternoon in. Do you have a favorite movie, Claire?”
“Of course,” she says, her eyes sweeping the sidewalk around us as she links her arm through my elbow. “Let’s order in a fancy lunch and we can watch a movie together.”
“Perfect.”
We turn down the next street, hurrying back toward the Northern Crown. My relief at leaving the busy street leaves me feeling weak in the knees.
But weakness does me no good. I need to brace myself for what’s coming.
I’m in too deep with Alec. I can’t deny it any longer. I’m in love.
Chapter 22
Alec
The moment I see the goddamn photographer, I release hold of my brother’s jacket, turn on my heel, and leave him behind alone in the garden. As I go, I hear him suck in a deep breath. He’ll no doubt deal with the man—the mutual understanding between the media and the palace is that the grounds are off-limits without an express invitation. The paparazzi haven’t been so rabidly interested in our family since my mother’s death nearly twenty years ago, but even then…
Jessica.
Somehow, their attention is really focused on Jessica.
How could I have missed it?
Saintlanders are known for their polite ways, but how could they help but be intrigued by her. I wasn’t even able to resist her charms and damn it, I had gone to the United States for a couple of weeks to get my fill of women. One look at her, and my plan went up in flames.
Even the most polite Saintland citizens are going to have an opinion about the woman who caused two princes to come to blow.
It shouldn’t be surprising that Saintland wants to know everything there is to know about her. It’s only a matter of time before they dig up her name, and she becomes a pawn in the media…
One way or another, the palace is going to have to get ahead of this. Even as I contemplate our options, I wave the thought away dismissively. By the time my father realizes it’s in his best interests to at the very least welcome her to the country in an official capacity, it might be too late.
The problem now, I think as I make my way back to my own rooms and away from the prying eyes of my father’s staff, is that this news will be available within minutes. Saintland might be a goddamn monarchy, but we believe strongly in freedom of the press…even if they breached our standing agreement to cover the “story.” And if it’s on the news, Jessica will hear about it…
Phillip meets me at the door to my rooms, already in a tizzy.
“Your highness,” he says, jumping up from his desk near my fireplace and rushing toward me. “Your highness, I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, but…”
“Let me guess. The little incident in the courtyard is on the gossip sites already, soon to be covered on the live networks.”
His face flushes. “Yes, Prince Alexander.”
That bastard father of mine works fast. These things must have been much easier to spin in the days before the Internet.
I take a seat on my sofa, covering my eyes with my hands. My father and brother are infuriating, but our disagreements have never been dragged through the public square this badly before. As the adrenaline seeps from my body, I feel a flash of guilt over losing control like that. I should never have manhandled my brother. I usually can exercise or fuck my frustrations away, but every comment about Jessica makes my blood boil.
They just can’t speak about the woman I love the way they do.
And I do love her. I can’t deny it to myself anymore, not after I shouted it into Marcus’s face in the garden while I had him pinned to the wall. I love her.
“What do you suggest I do now, Phillip?”
Phillip’s mouth drops open. I’m usually the one telling him how I’ll respond to a given situation, thank you very much, so I’m sure my statement shocked him.
Silence reigns for a moment.
“Well,” says Phillip, finding his footing again. “You have another interview scheduled for this afternoon, and then after that you’re to take part in a photo session with some local schoolchildren who have been building a float for the Summer Festival parade. In my opinion, it would be best for you to attend those as you normally would. If you stick to your schedule, there’s a possibility the palace will be able to spin this as a petty disagreement between brothers and not a scandal worthy of attention.”
“Then that’s the plan,” I say, standing up and smoothing down my jacket. “But I also need you to arrange some things to be sent to my lady’s suite at the Northern Crown. This is going to be a goddamned stressful day for her.”
I’ll give Phillip this: he is a master at carrying out the intricate plans I come up with.
Over the course of the afternoon and early evening, he arranges to send a series of gifts to Jessica at the Northern Crown, beginning with a delicate diamond bracelet and ending with a handwritten note from me: You are not to blame for any of this. I will see you this evening. Be ready. I will be very disappointed if you’re clothed when I arrive.
When I arrive at and open the door to her suite just past nine o’clock, she’s standing in the center of the living room, stark naked. She’s so gorgeous, it makes my heart skip a beat.
“Hello, your highness,” she says, trying bravely to give me a sultry grin, but I can see that today’s news has taken its toll.
I’m by her side in seconds, running my hand sensually over her bare shoulders and trailing them down to her hands. She raises her arms and drapes them loosely around my neck, looking up at me, her eyes searching my face for a reaction.
“Didn’t you read my note?” I murmur in her ear, nipping at her earlobe with my teeth.
“Yes, but Alec, it might be better if I—.”
I told my hands around her waist and pull her close to me, possessively and unapologetically. “Don’t you dare suggest to me that you return to the United States.”
“I’m coming between you and your family.” Her voice is threaded with genuine worry.
“You’re doing no such thing. My family is choosing to be stubborn. I’ll deal with them tomorrow, once we’ve all had a chance to cool off. For now…” Her entire body responds as I put one hand at the base of her neck and run one finger down her spine. Her nipples stand out pointedly from her breasts as a shiver overtakes her. “For now, I think we should occupy ourselves with other activities.”
“Yes,” she breathes out, warm breath tickling my ear.
“Would you like to be fucked, my hot little vixen?”
“Please.” Her answer is almost a whimper.
“How hard?”
“As hard as you can.”
“Your wish is my command.”
Chapter 23
Jessica
Alec stays with me in my suite until the sun is rising.
He begins the night by spreading me out on the bed and pulling my ankles apart until I’m spread completely open before him. “Keep them open,” he says, tapping the inside of my thighs.
Then he takes my hands and raises my arms above my head, pressing them down into the pillows. “Keep these here. Don’t move them.”
Goosebumps rise over my skin, joining my already hard nipples. But Alec isn’t finished.
He comes around to the side of the bed, something in his hand, and his eyes burning with desire.
“I love those blue eyes of yours,” he says, then leans down and uses his necktie to blindfold me, lifting my head gently to secure it.
I inhale a
deep breath. I’ve never been blindfolded during sex before, and with my eyes closed underneath the tie’s silky smooth fabric, every other sensation is heightened. I want to reach for him and start to raise my arms.
“Ah, ah,” he says playfully, pushing them back down with one hand as he rolls my left nipple between two fingers with his other. I arch up toward him, pleasure zinging in a straight line from my breasts to the space between my legs, which already aches for him.
Then, his hands are gone, and I let out a little whimper.
“Patience,” he commands, and I lie still, listening to the clink of a belt buckle being unfastened and the rustle of fabric falling to the floor.
The bed bows as he slides onto the mattress beside me, and then he’s touching me.
He traces the outlines of my cheekbones, then drags the pad of one finger down to just below my chin, pressing upward with infinite gentleness so that my neck is exposed at an angle away from him. His hot breath warms the hollow at my neck. The mattress shifts underneath as he bends, pressing lingering kiss after lingering kiss on my chest, my breasts, my nipples…and then he shifts lower.
It’s exquisite torture as he works his way down my body, but finally, just when I think I might scream from anticipation, his mouth closes over my clit and he starts stroking and sucking with his tongue, the confident rhythm coming as a shock after his languid approach.
I cry out, struggling to keep my legs from clamping shut, struggling to keep my arms raised above my head, but he puts one hand on each of my thighs, forcing them to stay open.
The helplessness sends me over the edge.
I never thought I would love it so fucking much.
All that’s keeping me in place is his command, but it’s so sexy that I can hardly breathe.
He sucks and licks until I explode violently against his mouth in a burst of wetness, and then he’s gone. My body is trembling.