Royal Mistake: The Complete Series

by Ember Casey

  “Then he would have brought it up. You can’t really believe that I was the one who gave him that idea, can you? He’d been talking about how you had humiliated her the entire time I was in there. It was only a matter of time before he made the offer to you.”

  “I still believe I can come up with a solution that will be fair for us all. And that includes you, Victoria.” He pats the seat next to him, inviting me to sit.

  But I stay where I am. “I wish you would just own this, Andrew. It isn’t as though we didn’t both see it coming. There’s no way out. There’s nothing else for us to do.”

  “You could stay in Montovia. Just as we had discussed before. I’ll make sure you have a fine home in the city. A job of your choosing. And I will see you as often as I am able. It will be difficult, yes, but we can make it work—”

  “Andrew.” My voice is a little sharper than I had intended. “I think I’ve already told you—in this very cottage, no less—that I will not be your mistress. I don’t care if your wife approves or even encourages it.” I let out a long breath. “You know, I spent the afternoon thinking I wasn’t good enough for you. But the truth is, I’m too good for this. I deserve more.”

  His head drops into his hands again.

  I take a few steps closer to him. “Look, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this. I know you have, too. I know we would both love for this to work out, but I think we both need to admit that sometimes…things just don’t. Sometimes, no matter how much you want something, it just isn’t meant to be. What you have going on in your life is so much bigger than the two of us. There’s just no way—”

  “There is always a way, Victoria.” He lifts his gaze to mine again. “Always.”

  I shake my head. “Not this time. This time, you have to suck it up and do what you were born to do. You have to do what you’ve been telling me since I met you is your one and true responsibility. You have to do what’s right for Montovia. And in this case, the only thing you can do to fix this is to marry Justine.”

  “I refuse to accept that, as I’ve already stated on too many occasions for me to count. And even if I did accept it, it’s not as though she would have me now. It’s not as though I can undo the damage I’ve already caused her.”

  I nod. “You’ll have to make it up to her. And you’ll have to do it on a grand scale—something huge and probably on a national stage. She still might not forgive you, Andrew. She might never forgive you. But she will marry you. She’s just like you—she’ll do what’s right for her country.”

  “Will you stay, then? Will you stay and assist me?” The hopeful look in his eyes makes the knife in my heart twist on itself.

  “Please don’t ask me to do that, Andrew. I…I don’t want to have to refuse you. And I can’t imagine being a part of it—not like this.”

  “I…I know.” His frown deepens and he gives his head another shake. “I’m a desperate man, Victoria. I…I can’t let you go. Not yet.”

  “Andrew.” My eyes squeeze shut for a moment before I look back over at him. “We need to end this. I know it hurts—my pain is at least as bad as yours. I wish you would see that. I wish you could feel how much it’s killing me right now—I can only imagine it’s at least as bad for you. But I can’t keep doing this to myself.”

  “I need…” He rakes a hand through his hair. His eyes are wild now, darting around the room, almost in desperation. “I need one more night with you. Agree to that, at the very least.”

  “No.” I shake my head. “Believe me, Andrew, I would love nothing more than for you to hold me one last time. To be with you one last time—”

  “Then we should be together one more time, Victoria. We owe it to ourselves to have one last night together.”

  “To what end, though? It’s going to hurt just as much if I leave now as it will if I leave in the morning. And honestly, it’s probably going to hurt me more. I can’t do that to myself, Andrew. I can’t keep doing any of this to myself—especially these one last time things. I’m worth more.”

  He nods before he finally stands up, fishing around in his pants pocket. “It’s true. You are worth more. You’re worth the world to me, Victoria. More than the world. And I would give up everything to be with you. Everything I have, everything I am…” He pulls his clasped hand out of his pocket. It’s pretty obvious he’s holding something in his palm as his hand extends in front of him. “I love you. More than words can express. But I think this will help to show you exactly how I feel.”

  He walks toward me, pulling my hand into his before he slips the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen over my finger.

  My breath hitches in my chest and all I can do is shake my head for a few moments as I stare down at the thing. The stone—I think it’s a pearl—changes color with even the slightest movement and it’s difficult to look away from it.

  “It was my great-grandmother’s. It… I knew it was for you. The moment you accepted my proposal this morning, I could think of no other ring I wanted you to wear. No other symbol of my undying love for you—”

  I stare at the ring, almost mesmerized by its beauty. But after a few moments, I’m able to snap myself out of my trance, lifting my gaze to his as I pull my hand. I slide the ring off my finger and place it back in his hand, closing his fingers around it. “I can’t, Andrew.”

  “But you can. You must.” His breaths are shallow, almost ragged. “Even…even if we don’t marry, I want you to have it. I want you to wear it always as a symbol of my love for you.”

  “No.” I shake my head again as I take a few steps back, pulling away from him. “I can’t, Andrew. And it isn’t fair for you to ask me. You really… You really want me to wear your ring…forever? So that I can’t be with anyone else, is that it?”

  “Victoria, how can you even think of being with someone else? We’ve just been engaged. I realize this is complicated and that things are not going the way we expected. But I’m not going to suddenly forget you, just because I’ve been forced into a corner. I don’t understand how you—”

  “The double standard. That’s what this is—and you are completely blind to it. Still. After all this time. You will be with Justine. You will have babies with her. You will be sharing a bed with her for the rest of your life. But you want me to wait? For what? When exactly will it be my turn, Andrew? After your first child is born? Your second? You think you want this thing with me now, but what happens when…?” My voice cracks as tears fill my eyes.

  Andrew’s eyes are shining, too, but I doubt he would ever admit they are filled with tears of his own. “What happens when what, Victoria?”

  A single tear slides down my cheek and I swipe at it with the back of my wrist. “What happens when you realize you love her?”

  Andrew

  I gape at her. I still can’t believe she doesn’t understand.

  “I will never love her,” I say. “I will never love anyone but you. Never. If you are gone from my life, it will be as if a piece of my soul is missing. I may continue to exist, but I’ll never be fully alive again. You are it for me, Victoria. There will never be another.” I close the distance between us again and raise my hand to her face. “I didn’t give you this ring because I wanted to claim you as mine for the rest of your life. I gave it to you because I never want you to forget what you mean to me—what you will continue to mean to me for as long as there is breath in my body. I certainly will never forget it.” I blink, and I realize my eyes are wet—am I actually crying?

  Her lips fall open, and she looks as if she wants to speak, but she can’t seem to make any words come out.

  “It’s a cruel universe,” I say, “that makes two people so perfect for each other and yet does everything in its power to tear them apart.” I take her hand again and place the ring in her palm. “You don’t have to wear it, but please keep it. I’m not ready to give up hope yet, Victoria. I am determined to find a way for us to be together. This ring is a symbol of that hope.” I close her fingers aroun
d it.

  For a long time, she says nothing. I can see the emotion shimmering in her eyes—emotion I know mirrors my own. After a moment, she looks down at her hand, opening her fingers to reveal the ring.

  I hold my breath. Part of me fears that she’s going to refuse it once again, but instead, she slowly lifts it from her palm and then slides it down her ring finger.

  “I can’t wear this in public, you know,” she says. “People would notice.” She spreads her fingers, looking down at the ring. It’s a perfect fit, and it seems to glimmer on her finger. Almost as if she was born to wear it. “I could wear it on a necklace, though.” She blinks a few times and looks up at me again. “I don’t want to give up hope either, Andrew. But I can’t… I have to be practical. I need to protect…” Her eyes close and she swallows. “If I allow myself to believe it’s possible, to hold on to that hope only to have it torn away again… It will break me.”

  “I don’t think I could survive without that hope,” I say, so softly that I can hardly hear the words myself.

  Her eyes flutter open again. “I want to hope, I just…” She reaches up and touches my cheek, and a tremor moves through me. “I’ve changed my mind. I want one more night.”

  My heart stutters in my chest. Once she gives me permission, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop. “Are you certain?”

  “Yes,” she says breathlessly. “Yes.” She tightens her fingers and pulls my face down to hers.

  My body seems to be aware that this might be the last time we experience each other like this, because the sensations that rush through me at the first touch of our lips nearly paralyze me. Heat pulses through me, sending hot flames of desire through every part of me, but beneath that is something dark and deep and desperate—an ache from the very core of my being.

  I grab her to me, yanking her against my chest as I deepen the kiss. Together, we stumble into the bedroom, toward the bed. We tumble down onto the sheets.

  This is more than just a physical need, or even an emotional one—my soul cries out for hers. She is everything to me. The air I breathe. The blood moving through my body. I could survive on her and her alone.

  I could take her hard and fast—the urgency burns through me. But if this is possibly our last time together, I want to savor every moment. I want to commit every bit of her to memory.

  I prop myself up above her. “I love you.” My head dips and my lips brush against hers. “I love your mouth. And your chin”—I kiss her chin—“and your cheeks.” My lips touch either side of her face.

  Her breath comes out in a soft shudder, and her fingers dig into my back.

  “I love your ears,” I continue. “And your eyes.” I kiss each piece of her one by one, lingering on her eyelids. “And I love your hair.” I bury my face in the strands, breathing in that autumn-and-honey scent of her, committing it to my memory.

  We’re still clothed, and we both seem to realize it at the same time. Slowly, I sit up, and then Victoria does too. We don’t say a word to each other, but we both move in sync, knowing exactly what to do. I’m still in the formal suit I wore to receive King Maximilian, which is a little more complicated than my normal clothing, but we manage to get it off together and throw it all aside. Her clothes go next, joining the pile on the floor. When there is nothing between us anymore, I slowly lower her back down onto the pillows. Her hair falls around her head like a dark halo.

  My body urges me to join with her immediately, to quench the agonizing desire pulsing through me, but I don’t. Instead, I shift myself down her body, continuing my admiration of her.

  “I love your throat,” I tell her as I kiss her neck. “And your shoulders.”

  I let my lips trail down one arm and then the other, touching her everywhere, memorizing every freckle and every little scar. I should have taken the time to do this before—to explore her thoroughly during our lovemaking—but back then, I thought we had the luxury of time on our side. I was a fool.

  Next, I kiss my way down her front.

  “I love your breasts,” I saw, my voice ragged. “And your nipples.” I brush my tongue across one of those sensitive nubs, but while I relish the little moan she makes, I don’t allow myself to linger.

  “I love your stomach,” I say, sliding lower. “And your bellybutton.”

  My mouth dances across her belly, moving from one side to the other, and I take in every mark on her skin. Every curve of her flesh. Everything.

  Her hips are next, and then her legs. As with her arms, I take the legs one by one, kissing down their length and then back up again. I linger on her toes, letting my lips taste them one by one, and I find a tiny birthmark on her thigh that I didn’t notice before. Finally, I find myself back up where her thighs part, and I push them gently open.

  “And I especially love you here,” I murmur. “I love the way you smell. And the way you taste.”

  I slide my tongue down the length of her, and she groans, arching her back.

  “If I could, I would taste you every day,” I tell her. “I’d worship your body day in and day out for as I long as I lived.”

  I lick her again, and this time she whimpers.

  I don’t try to speak anymore. Instead, I continue to tease her with my tongue, sliding it over her wet, silken skin. I want to memorize her here, too. Remember every fold, commit the pure, musky scent of her to my mind.

  Her hands find my hair, her fingers gripping my scalp as my mouth serves her. Her pleasure is building quickly, coming rapidly to a head, but before I can push her over the edge, she suddenly tugs at my hair, pulling my face away from her.

  “Not…yet…” she says breathlessly. “Please, not yet.”

  “You’re so close—”

  “I want you up here,” she says. “Please, Andrew. I want to look at you when I…”

  I don’t have it in me to deny her that.

  Slowly, I move back up her body, leaning over her again. She looks up at me with wide, dark eyes, and her entire upper body is flushed.

  “Please,” she begs again. “I need you inside of me…”

  And I don’t have the strength to hold back any longer. I lean forward and kiss her once, gently, before positioning myself between her legs. Then I pull back, looking down into her eyes as I slide inside of her.

  Our bodies join easily, as if we were made to fit together. Her eyes flutter slightly as I bury my cock in her softness, but her gaze remains locked on mine.

  “I love you,” she whispers.

  “I love you,” I return. “I will always love you.”

  I begin to move without breaking her gaze. Her lips fall open, and her eyes remain open, too, even when they start to glisten again with fresh tears.

  Her hands dig into me. Her body arches up to meet mine thrust for thrust, and I can feel her starting to tense—she was already close to her climax, and her arousal is bringing me quickly toward my own.

  The tears have started to spill down her cheeks now, and with a shock, I realize my own lashes are damp again.

  I refuse to give up hope. I refuse to let this be our last night together. I’ll love you forever, Victoria.

  Victoria lets out a small cry, and her body goes rigid beneath mine. But her eyes stay on mine, and I watch everything play out in their depths—her pleasure, her love, her sadness. Her core pulses around me, gripping my cock and bringing me to my own climax. I hear myself groan as I empty myself into her, filling her with all of my love. All of my hope.

  As I lower myself next to her, I pull her into my arms.

  “We’ll find a way to be together,” I murmur into her hair. “We have to.”

  She doesn’t say anything, only snuggles closer to me. I can feel her tears on my skin.

  “We have to,” I say again, and this time my voice sounds raw.

  I find her hand, my fingers skimming across hers until I find the ring. The symbol of my undying love. I close my hand around hers.

  I will never give up hope. Never.

&nbs
p; Victoria

  We cling to each other for the rest of the night, almost as though we’re hoping morning will never arrive. But it does, and I wake as soon as the first light hits the window of the small bedroom.

  Andrew doesn’t stir behind me as I find his hand on my belly and cover it with mine. I never want to forget this moment. I want to remember everything about the way he feels. I want to memorize how his body feels, pressed against mine as he holds me the way he always does, with my back against his chest.

  I want to remember everything about the way I feel when I’m with him—how it seems anything is possible. Like nothing in the world can get in our way as long as we’re together.

  I close my eyes again and try to memorize everything about this moment—probably the last I’ll have with Andrew.

  The practical part of me knows I should go. I should grab my clothes and slip away before he wakes up—before this becomes too difficult for both of us. But I can’t seem to move. I don’t want to move—and my practical side can be damned.

  He promised we’d find a way through this. Find a way to be together. But the sad truth is the only way we’ll be able to be together is if I’m his mistress. We’re right back where we started—I can’t be his wife. There’s no way for us to be together. Not now. Not with the threat of a war hanging over his head. And I’m just not willing to play second fiddle to Princess Justine, no matter how nice of a person she is. And I don’t want to do that to her, anyway. I’m not going to cheat with someone else’s husband.

  If Andrew had left me well enough alone, none of this would have ever happened. We never would have been in a plane crash together. He never would have had to hire me to cover his stupid pageant. And he never would have humiliated Justine, getting him into the predicament we face now. If we had never met, we never would have had to face this mess.

  And I never would have fallen in love. And that is the real problem. I was just so sure I never needed to fall in love again. I was so sure I didn’t want to fall in love again. And I certainly never meant for it to happen with Prince Andrew, of all people. He was the fantasy—the brooding, uptight prince who gave so few interviews that no one knew much about him. He was perfect—every woman could build him up in her head to be exactly what she fantasized he’d be.