by Ember Casey
And he turned out to be nothing like my fantasies at all. He’s so, so much better than I ever could have dreamed.
I shift against him, almost hoping I’ll graze a part of him that will wake him up and make him want to take me one last time. I should just roll over and take matters in my own hands, but Andrew is sleeping so peacefully, I’m almost embarrassed to admit I want to have him again, especially when I know he hasn’t been sleeping well.
But I need him one last time. I need to feel him inside me—I need look into his eyes when I come one final time.
God, I need him. How am I ever going to not need him?
I take his hand in mine, lifting it away slightly so I have room to turn to face him. I have every intention of making it very clear to him that I need to have him make love to me now. Hell, maybe I need him to fuck me. Maybe that’s what we both need—to show each other our raw passion one last time. Last night was filled with tearful, sweet moments. But I think right now, I need to show him the pure, unadulterated lust I also have for him. Because I don’t want him to forget this moment, either.
I’m not even turned to face him completely when I hear something. It takes me a second to realize it’s the slamming of the front door, followed shortly by muffled voices. And laughter. Definitely laughter.
My eyes widen in horror and I reach for the sheet to cover Andrew and myself before the intruders walk into the bedroom.
At the same moment I’m reaching to the end of the bed for a blanket, Andrew awakens, pulling me tightly to him again. He buries his head in my hair. “You’re not leaving. Not yet. Not before I have you at least one more time.”
My voice is low—I don’t want whoever is out there knowing the two of us are in here. Not until I’m covered, anyway. “Andrew—”
He interrupts me by crushing his lips to mine.
It takes me a second to recover—even with the threat of intruders, there’s still something about his kiss that makes me melt, unable to think coherently. I break away, trying to twist out of his grasp and reach again for the sheet.
“Victoria.” Andrew’s voice is almost a growl. He wraps his arms around my waist to prevent me from pulling away.
And I can’t quite reach the sheet. He obviously thinks I’m trying to get up, but all I want is to cover my body before—
“My God, Andrew. I know I’ve been saying for years that you need to get laid, but…” Leo chuckles and rubs his jaw. “Well done, Brother.”
I let out a short, almost raspy breath as Andrew’s grip on me loosens just enough for me to pull the sheet up to cover my body, and I clutch it over my chest.
Leo’s eyes never leave Andrew’s, almost as though he’s trying to show me some small amount of respect. “Good to see you again, Ms. Simpson. Though I must say, I was not expecting to see so much of you.”
My face is on fire and I consider pulling the sheet up over my head.
Andrew’s cheeks look like mine feel and he pulls the sheet over enough to cover himself from the waist down. “Leopold, I would ask what you’re doing here, but—”
“You sent our sister to fetch me, did you not? And here I am. I thought Elle and I might…rest a while before we go and see Father this afternoon.” He motions to the hallway. “She’s in the washroom now, freshening up.”
Andrew rolls his eyes. “You thought you might bring her here for a little playdate, did you? And what, might I ask, is wrong with your suite? It isn’t as though you two haven’t spent an inordinate amount of time in there over the past few months.”
“The problem, Brother, is not with my suite, but with who is guarding the palace at this time. I imagine you know who I’m speaking of.” Leo’s gaze darts to mine for the briefest moment before it falls back on Andrew. “We both know that Stephan has something of a distaste for foreign women. I’m sure you’ve experienced it yourself. Elle and I have been…utilizing the cottage from time to time. Particularly when Stephan is in one of those moods, as he appears to be now—”
“Yes, because our father is ill and is hospitalized. Father’s only just come out of surgery last evening. And the only thing you’re able to think of is having a rendezvous with your lover? Have you no conscience, Brother?”
Leo’s brow furrows for a second before he shakes his head. “Do I really need to point out that you are lying naked in bed with your lover?” His face flushes a bit and his gaze drops to the floor instead of to me. “I apologize, Ms. Simpson, though my brother seems to think—”
“The reasons Victoria and I are here are none of your concern and are completely different from the reasons you and Doctor Parker are here, I assure you.”
Leo lifts a brow and looks back at Andrew. “Not by the looks of it, Brother. I’m fairly certain both of us had the same intentions. Only you and your lover arrived first. And had I known you were also using the gardener’s cottage as a hideaway, I would have never…” He clears his throat. “Again, I apologize, Ms. Simpson.”
“It’s fine.” My voice is low, only barely above a ragged whisper. “I should be going, anyway.”
“Like hell you should.” There’s an edge in Andrew’s voice that I’ve only heard around Leo. “My brother and his betrothed will be leaving when she exits the washroom.” He pauses, glaring at Leo. “Won’t you, Leopold?”
Leo does a half-bow sort of gesture and takes a step back into the hallway. “Whatever you wish, Your Grace.”
Andrew growls under his breath.
Leo smiles and rolls his eyes. “Elle and I will be fine in my quarters. Or perhaps we can find another underutilized room inside the palace.”
“Hm. Like your office, perhaps?” Andrew folds his arms over his chest. “Why did you leave, anyway? Besides the fact that you were not here when Father was taken ill, you also refused to answer your mobile. You may want to deny your responsibilities as a representative of this country, but in this circumstance—”
“Can we perhaps save this lecture for later? After I have had at least a few hours sleep? It was a long plane ride, and Sophia chirped at me the entire way here. You have met our sister, have you not?”
Andrew only glares at Leo.
“Right, as I thought.” Leo glances into the hallway, but Elle hasn’t returned. “I merely thought Elle and I might be able to rest more fitfully away from the noise of the palace, particularly when we seem to have guests in King Maximilian and Prince Reginald. God, I hope they leave before the festival begins on Friday. It’s definitely going to make it infinitely less fun if they’re still hanging around.”
Andrew nods, but says nothing. His gaze is still narrowed, but less of a glare now.
Leo continues. “I didn’t mean for us to have a run-in over who is entitled to use the cottage for…sleepovers, Brother.”
Something in Andrew’s expression softens. “I am glad you’ve arrived home safely, Leopold. We have much to discuss.” He glances over at me. “I’ve asked Victoria to be my wife. And with that, there are some additional responsibilities of which you’ll need to become aware.”
My mouth falls open and my eyes widen as I turn to him. “Andrew. I think…I think maybe you’ve forgotten that we…” I drop my voice, though I’m sure Leo can still hear. “We can’t. We can’t get married.”
Andrew frowns and lets out a long breath. “I’ve not yet determined how we will be together, Victoria. But in the night, I did decide that we will. You and I will be married. I’ll not agree to any concession where that is not a condition. And I’ll not be agreeing to marry Princess Justine.”
I shake my head. “And I’ll not be agreeing to marry you, either. Not with the threat of war hanging over our heads. Or did you forget that part?”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Leo interjects. “Did you say…war?”
Andrew lifts a brow and glares at Leo again. “As I said, Leopold, we need to discuss many things. And perhaps you’ll have some semblance of an idea of how our countries might come to an agreement before my meeting with King Maximili
an again later this morning. I’ve already asked William to join me for a late breakfast. You should join us, too.”
Leo shakes his head. “As I said, I’m in no condition. I’ve had no sleep in days—”
“Too bad,” Andrew interrupts. “You can sleep when this crisis is over. Now…” He motions with his head toward the door. “Now leave us. And close the door on your way out.”
Andrew
Leopold retreats from the room, closing the door behind him. I rub my forehead before dragging myself over to the edge of the bed and throwing my feet over the side. I was hoping Victoria and I might have each other one more time before we were forced to face the real world again, but it looks like that won’t be the case.
I feel her move behind me. A moment later, I feel her against my back, and her cheek rests against my shoulder. I pull her arms around my waist, wanting her close to me.
After a couple of seconds, a long, slow breath escapes her. “We can’t keep pretending—”
“There is no pretending,” I insist. “We will find a way to be together, Victoria. And I don’t mean with you as my mistress.”
She tries to pull her hands back, but I close my fingers over hers. Beneath my palm, I can feel the pearl of the ring I gave her last night.
“Promise me you’ll keep it with you,” I say.
I don’t have to specify what I mean by it. She hesitates for the slightest of moments before saying. “I’ll wear it around my neck. But Andrew, I still think—”
“Don’t think,” I say. “Just trust me. There is nothing to think about. You know, deep in your heart, that we were put on this earth to be together. Thinking doesn’t come into it at all.” I release her and force myself to stand. “You should know by now that I am a very stubborn man. And I don’t intend to change that now.”
I look back at her just in time to see the smallest of smiles on her lips. “You are pretty damn stubborn.”
“Especially when it matters.” I grab my clothes from the ground. There’s no reason to put on my entire formal suit again, but the pants and shirt should at least make me decent for breakfast. “But you can be pretty stubborn, too.” I straighten and look at her. “You aren’t planning on leaving the moment we part, are you?”
I can tell by the way her gaze slides away from mine that she’s been thinking about it again. In an instant, I’m on my knees in front of the bed, taking her hands in mine.
“Please stay,” I say. “Trust me.”
“It’s not a matter of trust,” she says. “It’s a matter of doing the right thing. For Montovia.”
In spite of myself, I feel a smile pull at my mouth. I raise her fingers to my lips. “And that, my love, is how I know I’ve made the right choice.”
She gives me a quizzical look. “The right choice?”
“In you. That’s exactly how a queen would think.”
At the word queen, all of the color leaves her face. “Andrew, I’m not—”
“You are,” I say. “You are…exactly as you should be. Trust in that, Victoria. If you can’t trust me, trust in the fact that you were born to be here. Montovia is better when you are here.”
“I’ll try,” she says.
“Besides,” I say, trying to lighten my tone. “You can’t miss the Salt Festival. It is our biggest celebration of the year. You’d be a fool to miss it. And you, Victoria, are not a fool.” With everything going on, I’d nearly forgotten about it until Leopold mentioned it a few minutes ago. The Salt Festival—named for the salt mines that were once Montovia’s primary source of income, but known simply as ‘The Festival’ to most of our citizens—lasts for several days, filling our capital city with celebration and energy.
That almost earns me another partial smile. “I’ll think about it.”
I let my thumb slide over her ring one more time before rising to my feet. “Please do. You won’t regret it.”
I continue to pull on the pieces of my suit, and Victoria grabs her own clothes. Once we’re dressed, I go over to her and pull her into my arms one more time. I kiss her passionately, and she slides her arms around my neck and kisses me right back.
“I’d sooner die unwed than marry anyone else,” I say.
She doesn’t respond, only kisses me once more.
When I can finally bear to pull away from her, I say, “We should return to the palace.” Part of me wants to get a promise from her, an assurance that she won’t leave the moment my back is turned, but I have to trust her. I’ve asked her to trust me, after all.
When we step into the cottage’s parlor, I’m surprised to see Leopold and Elle still sitting on the small sofa. In fact, Doctor Parker is sitting on Leopold’s lap, laughing as my brother kisses her neck.
It takes them a moment to notice us. When they do, my brother grins at me.
“Took you long enough to get dressed,” he says. “We figured if you two were going for another round, we might as well enjoy ourselves while we waited.”
Elle’s cheeks bloom pink as she scrambles to her feet. “Ignore him,” she says. She goes over to Victoria, extending her arms. Victoria leans into the hug, wrapping her arms around her friend.
Eleanor Parker is a lot larger than she was the last time I saw her. She’s still sporting a glow, but whether that’s due to her condition or something else, I couldn’t say—in truth, I’ve never seen any couple as happy as my brother and Elle seem to be.
My eyes shift back to Victoria. We have a chance at that sort of happiness—assuming I can solve this predicament we’ve found ourselves in. While the two women chat and catch up, I turn back to my brother.
“So you’ve decided to join us for breakfast after all?” I say.
“I decided it was good for me to exercise some of that princely responsibility you and Father are always on about,” he says, still grinning. “I need all the practice at responsibility I can get before the little one gets here.” He shoots one more glance at the women before stepping closer to me. His expression sobers slightly. “Besides, I’m not letting you face that jackass King Max alone. He didn’t really threaten war, did he?”
“Unfortunately, yes.” I rub the back of my neck. “I think I talked him down from anything that extreme, but he’s still angling for a royal wedding for his daughter. And he’s still insisting that we hand over rights to the Amhurst Valley for the offense we’ve caused him—”
“That fucking bastard is trying to take advantage of you,” Leopold says.
“You don’t think I realize that?” I say. “He’s trying to use my debt to him as leverage. I know I fucked up that night in Prague, but that in no way entitles him to the valley. Or to a wedding for his daughter. Poor Justine doesn’t even want any of this. That man is…” I stop myself before I say things about our neighboring monarch that I might come to regret.
Leopold, on the other hand, has no such qualms. “He’s a fucking rat, that’s what he is. His country will be better off when he’s dead.”
“You can’t just say things like—”
“I can. I’m not afraid of him. And neither should you be. This is all over a fucking poker game. It’s not like you’ve broken any international laws or treaties or anything. This is fucking ridiculous, that’s what this is.”
“I know,” I say. And that’s exactly why I won’t let it keep Victoria and me apart.
“He’s not interested in compensation. He’s trying to cheat you. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if his son cheated in that poker game. The entire family is completely corrupt.”
“What if Prince Reginald did cheat you?” I didn’t realize the women walked over to us, but Victoria is suddenly at my elbow. The look in her eyes echoes her question. “Is there a way to prove it?”
“Only if he admitted it himself,” I say, shaking my head. “And there’s no way that will ever happen.”
“But there has to be some dirt on him,” says Elle. “If he’s as shady as you say, then he’s probably done a few things he’s trying to hide.�
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“She has a point,” Leopold says. “He’s trying to use your one stupid mistake to try and blackmail you. But fuck, he’s probably done something far, far worse. Many things.”
“Even if he has,” I say, “he’ll never admit it. Rest assured, he’s buried any indiscretions—”
“He’s here in the palace,” my brother reminds me. “We have the advantage here. I’m sure we can find something—”
“And you forget who you have on your side,” Elle says, beaming. “Victoria’s been a celebrity reporter for years—and she’s spent a lot of that time focusing on the royals. If anyone can dig up dirt, it’s her.”
I glance at Victoria, who looks uncertain. “This isn’t exactly the sort of reporting I normally do—”
“And we know he’s fond of gambling. And drinking,” Leopold says, rubbing his chin. “Perhaps I can tempt him into a game—”
“Reginald might have questionable ethics, but he’s not a fool,” I remind him. “He knows better than to engage in that sort of activity while he’s a guest—”
“Are you kidding?” my brother says. “He’s as cocky as they come. And he thinks he has you under his thumb, which will make him careless.”
“That doesn’t matter at this point,” I say. “I made the mistake, and I must—”
“And you shouldn’t have to pay for one night of stupidity by marrying that bastard’s sister. Or by signing over the Amhurst Valley,” Leopold says. “Honestly, the timing is perfect. Think about it—the Festival starts in three days. It’s the biggest party Montovia has all year. Alcohol is flowing freely in the streets. Everyone’s wearing masks. If anyone in this country is going to do something shady, it’s then.”