Prince Not So Charming: A Royal Love Story

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Prince Not So Charming: A Royal Love Story Page 29

by Tawny Taylor

And if things went well, then maybe…

  “Okay yes. Dinner sounds great. Thank you.”

  He grinned. He looked handsome when he smiled. Not as handsome as someone else I knew, but still attractive. That someone else was out of my life. It was time to move on. “Good. How long will it take you to get ready?”

  I ran a hand over my hair. Ugh. I needed a shower. “Give me a half hour?”

  “Sure.” He gave a swift nod. “I’ll run home and clean up. Be back in a half hour.”

  I dashed inside and jumped in the shower to steam off all traces of animal stink and de-fuzz all parts that were getting prickly. Then I hopped out, sprayed some curl enhancer in my hair so I didn’t have to blow it dry and jumped into a fresh pair of underwear and a cute bra. Picking just the right outfit was tough. It was hot and muggy. So I would need to wear something cool. And yet I didn’t want to wear anything slutty. Nor did I want to wear anything too school-marm-ish. Something cute and maybe a little flirty but not over-the-top.

  Jean shorts. A cute top that wasn’t too tight or too low cut. And sandals.

  The work outside had given my face a nice tan, so I didn’t need a whole lot of makeup and I was ready to go. Done.

  And just in time. The knock on my door told me my date had arrived. On time.

  Pinching on her earrings, I scurried to answer the door, grabbed the knob and yanked.

  Ohmygod.

  “Clay.”

  His gaze zoomed down to my feet and up. “I came—“ He twisted around, looked over his shoulder at Will, who was loping toward the front porch.

  Will stomped up the front steps. “Walker.” He nodded to me. “Ready?”

  I gaped. My heart thumped.

  Clay. Clay was here. And I was supposed to be going on a date with Will. Oh crap.

  Clay stepped aside, his head turned toward Will, his expression hidden from my view for a moment. “Will,” he said. “Didn’t expect to see you here after work hours.”

  “Seems to me, what I do on my time isn’t a concern of yours.” He reached past Clay, offering his hand to me.

  My gaze bounced between the two men, who appeared to be having a disagreement of some sort. I was so freaking confused I didn’t know what to do. Seeing Clay again made my heart hammer and my brain turn to mush all over again. But I remembered what he’d said the last time I’d seen him. How could I forget?

  “Morgan?” Will said, his hand still hanging out there, waiting for me to take it. “I’m so hungry I’m gonna eat my hat if we don’t get goin’ soon.”

  “I…” I searched Clay’s eyes.

  They were cold. Arctic cold.

  He was angry. Seething. Furious.

  And I felt guilty as hell, even though I didn’t do anything wrong.

  Clay turned around without saying a word, clomping to his truck.

  Will grinned. “Shall we?”

  Letting Will lead me to his truck, I watched Clay start his truck and skid away. Will’s truck drove through the cloud of dust Clay’s kicked up.

  The tension in the air was thicker than molasses.

  The radio blasted as we bounced down the long drive and out onto the road. I watched wide-open pasture fly by as we roared toward town. Thankful for the music, I kept quiet, my hands resting in my lap. When I caught Will looking at my bare thighs, I tugged the bottoms of my shorts down.

  This was a mistake. What was I doing?

  I looked at Will.

  Stubble shadowed his strong jaw and chin. His eyes were bright blue, his hair, what I could see of it, bleached from the sun and curled by the humidity. He was the all American man. Ruggedly handsome. Very masculine, in his plaid shirt and jeans, sleeves rolled up to reveal toned, suntanned forearms. I was on a date with champion cowboy of 2014.

  And all I could think about was going home.

  “The rodeo starts tomorrow. Will you come watch me?” he asked, peering my direction for a moment.

  “Rodeo?”

  “Of course I’ll be competing in all the men’s events.”

  “Of course.”

  “So you’ll watch?” he smiled. “It’s always nice knowin’ there’s someone out there rootin’ for me.”

  “I… I’m not sure. Rodeos were never my thing.”

  “Around these parts, rodeos are everyone’s thing.”

  Up ahead I could see the fair, carnival rides swinging and swooping and spinning. He parked in a nearby empty lot and insisted I wait as he stomped around the front of the truck to let me out. A hand was waiting for my grasp as soon as the door was open. I accepted it, not wanting to seem rude.

  His fingers clasped my hand firmly and didn’t let go. “This way.” He led me toward the entry booth set up at one end of a public park. He released my hand to pay the entry fee but the moment he had his wallet back in his pocket, he grabbed it again. My palm sweated as we wove between couples, teens and families enjoying the sights and sounds of the fair.

  Thanks to the lights and smiles everywhere, my anxiety eased as we wandered past the line of food trucks parked along one side of the fair. The scents of roasted meat and popcorn made my mouth water, reminding me I hadn’t eaten much at lunchtime.

  “I hope you’re hungry,” Will said as he expertly steered us through the throng, the thick crowd parting before him, greeting him, waving as if he was a celebrity. Though, in a town as small as Dawson, the national cowboy champ probably was a celebrity.

  “Starving,” I said, my eyes bouncing from one truck to the next. Elephant ears. Popcorn. Ice cold drinks! “And thirsty.”

  “We’ll get our food. But first…” He stepped between two trucks, taking me to a quiet little nook sheltered from the noise and bustle.

  I tipped my head up to ask him why he’d brought me there. And Will leaned closer, eyes drilling into mine. “You have no fucking idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this. I can’t wait another second.” Then, without warning, he smashed his mouth over mine.

  I parted my lips, gasping, shock quaking through my system. He took advantage of my vulnerability and shoved his tongue into my mouth. His hand landed on my breast, fingers squeezing so hard tears sprung to my eyes.

  What the hell? What made him think he could do this to me?

  I shoved him, but he didn’t budge. I tried to break the kiss by turning my head away but he followed, tongue plunging in and out of my mouth, hungrily taking.

  Bastard!

  Anger seethed through me. I hooked my fingers and raked them down his arms, but that did nothing. I tried to knee him in the crotch but he slammed his body against mine, smashing me between the wall and him.

  I was trapped.

  A whimper bubbled in my throat. I jerked my head to the other side, briefly breaking the kiss. “Please, stop.”

  “Aw, don’t you beg so pretty.” The hand holding my breast plunged under my shirt. “That’s it, baby. Play hard to get. I love that game.”

  “I’m not playing!” I wiggled and writhed, but he wedged his leg between mine. With my every movement, I felt his erection growing bigger, harder.

  Sick bastard! He liked this.

  I clawed at him, his body, his face. But he caught my hands and slammed them above my head, grumbling, “Slut.”

  I pulled, twisting my arms, but his hold was too strong, too tight. My stomach turned as I realized he had me completely overpowered. He was so fucking strong!

  He gathered my wrists in one hand and grabbed the front of my top with the other and yanked, tearing the neckline to reveal my bra. “Now, you’re fucking making me crazy. Look at those tits. Do you want it right here? Is that what you want?”

  “No!”

  He grabbed my chin. “Your pretty little mouth says no, but your body says yes.”

  He was wrong. There wasn’t a single part of my body that was saying yes to this.

  “Stop!” I yelled.

  He clapped his hand over my mouth and angled close. “Don’t raise your fucking voice, or you’ll get us both arrest
ed.” Then he slowly lifted his hand. “You don’t want to spend the rest of the summer in jail, do you?” He shoved his hand down my pants and pawed at my pussy.

  Bullshit! I was about to be raped. If I caught someone’s attention, I wouldn’t be arrested.

  “Help!” I screamed.

  He slammed his mouth over mine, muffling the sound. While I gagged on his hand, the fingers of his other hand worked their way into my slit.

  Oh god! I had to stop this.

  I screamed again. Tears flooded my eyes, blurring my vision. I bucked against his bulk, desperate to break free. Disgust sent bile surging up my throat.

  This wasn’t sexy! It was terrifying.

  And horrible.

  And, oh God, why wouldn’t he stop?

  Suddenly my would-be rapist flew backward. Losing his support, my weight shifted. I tumbled forward, his hands taking me with him. My wrists broke free as the world around me rocked. My knees slammed the pavement and the air left my lungs in a gust as pain flamed up my legs. I curled my body into a ball.

  What was happening? Was he about to beat me?

  As the wave of agony peaked and gradually eased, I became aware of the sounds.

  Men’s voices. Yelling.

  The bang of metal striking metal.

  Dull thuds. Feet scuffling.

  “Fucking bastard! I’ll kill you.”

  I knew that voice, didn’t I?

  “She ain’t yours, Walker. So back off!”

  Yes, yes I did. It was Clay.

  Blinking back tears, I rolled onto all fours and crawled away from the brawling duo.

  “I told you and your crew to keep your fucking hands off her.”

  “I don’t have to listen to you.”

  When I was fairly certain I was out of the way, I sat upright, finding two figures next to the trashcans. Both large. Both strong. They were lunging at each other. Arms swinging.

  “You do have to listen if you want to keep your fucking job,” Clay growled.

  I dragged my hand across my eyes to try to clear them better. They were fighting. Clay and Will.

  Over me?

  Over me!

  “So you’re gonna fire me for dipping my dick into the same whore you had? What the fuck, man?” Will scoffed.

  Whore? Me? Now I was ready to kick his ass myself!

  Clay’s face morphed into a scarlet mask of fury. “She’s no whore!”

  “She is. They all are. You said so yourself.” Seeing his hat, which had been knocked off his head, Will sauntered over to it and bent to scoop it up.

  Mistake. Stupid mistake.

  “Not fucking Morgan! No!” Clay took full advantage of the moment, launching his body at Will. They both tumbled to the ground, Will landing on his stomach, beneath an out-of-control Clay. When Clay grabbed a handful of Will’s wavy sun-bleached hair I was actually a little scared for him, despite the whore remark.

  Without thinking, I pushed to my feet and charged toward them. “Stop it!” I screamed.

  Clay was bent over Will, smacking Will’s head into the pavement. I grabbed at his arms but I couldn’t hold on. That little bit of fear blossomed into full-blown terror. I couldn’t see Will’s face, but the concrete was spattered with scarlet. Who could survive having his face pounded into concrete? Nobody! I couldn’t stand by and watch anyone get beat to death.

  I hooked my arm around his and held on for dear life screaming, “Clay, stop! Stop!”

  Ohmygod! He won’t stop. He’s going to beat Will to death.

  “Clay!” I screamed.

  If he kills Will, he’ll go to prison. His life will be ruined. He has to stop!

  “Clay, you fucking bastard, stop it now!” I pounded on his back. I yanked on his hair. I clawed at his arms.

  Finally he stopped.

  Was it too late?

  Everything went silent. My heart thumped in my ears. My breath sawed in and out of my lungs. I tugged on his arm, pulling him off Will.

  Will was sprawled next to the trashcan, bloody, unconscious.

  Oh God, it was.

  Too late.

  19

  Time stood still.

  Clay stared into my eyes. His face was deep plum. Yet his expression was totally unreadable.

  “Clay, what have you done?” I whispered, my stomach doing flips inside my body. I felt sick. This was so wrong.

  So terrifying.

  So overwhelming.

  I was frozen. Shocked. Locked in a straight jacket of confusion.

  Will needed help. Now. And yet I was terrified to make a move. I didn’t want Clay to get in trouble for what he’d done. After all, he’d done it for me, to protect me.

  “He had no fucking right to touch you,” Clay spat between gritted teeth.

  “You’re right. He didn’t.” I couldn’t disagree with that statement. Will had crossed the line. By a mile. But this… I wouldn’t wish that kind of beating on my worst enemy. “I mean, look what you did!” I stabbed a finger at Will’s still, lifeless form.

  “Yes I did that! I beat his ass. And I’d do it again. I’d kill the fucker if I had to.”

  “No, Clay.” Finally breaking free from the grip of my shock, I pushed past him, one hand grappling for my phone, lost somewhere in my purse. “This wasn’t the way to handle it.” Was Will dead? I prayed he wasn’t! Gently, I moved his head.

  “Get the fuck away from him!” Clay looped an arm around my waist and swung me away before I could check for a pulse.

  “Clay, what are you doing?” I yelled as I kicked my legs and flung my arms. “Let me go. I need to see if he’s alive—“

  “I don’t give a shit if he’s alive.” He hauled me several feet away before setting me back on my feet. Looming over me, he said in a cold, clipped voice, “That bastard touched you.” His gaze dropped to my torn top. “He deserved it.” He unbuttoned his shirt, shrugged out of it, and handed it to me. Underneath he had on a tank, the bandages gone, revealing the red scar on his shoulder. “Here.”

  “Thanks.” I stuffed my arms into the sleeves and quickly buttoned the front. It was nice that Clay cared. Really nice. But what was with all the fury? Where did that come from? I’d never seen anything so brutal. “No, Clay. He didn’t deserve to be beat to death. He deserved to be arrested.” I tried once again to check Will but Clay dragged me away from him once again. “Dammit! Stop that.” For a guy who’d been shot recently, he was strong!

  “He knew the consequences. I warned them all before they went back to work. They knew what would happen if any of them touched you.”

  Okay, so he wasn’t going to let me touch Will directly. I could still help him. I dug in my purse for my phone. “What are you talking about?” There. At the bottom. I yanked my phone out and poked 9-1-1.

  “You’re mine.”

  “What?” I snapped just as the dispatcher answered my call.

  “Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?” the dispatcher repeated.

  “There’s an unconscious man in the fairgrounds. Behind the pizzeria booth,” I babbled, my mind totally focused on what Clay had said, not on what I was saying. Or the dispatcher.

  “You’re mine,” Clay yanked on my elbow, dragging me farther away from Will.

  “Stop it!” I yelled.

  The dispatcher said something.

  “I won’t stop it!” Clay shouted as he continued to pull me. “You have no idea how fucking dangerous that asshole—all of those assholes are!”

  Dangerous? What was he talking about? Sure, Will had been way pushy. Hell, he’d practically raped me, right there, in the middle of the fair. But why was Clay practically calling him a murderer? If anyone deserved to be labeled that, it would be Clay right now. “What are you talking about?”

  “They’re working for half the going hourly rate. Why do you think that is?” he asked, circling around me so his bulk was between me and the still very unconscious and nonthreatening Will.

  “I don’t know.” One hand gripping my pho
ne, I threw my arms in the air. I was so fucking confused. What was he trying to say? What the hell was going on? “I didn’t realize they were working for cheap. To me the employee cost was way too high.”

  The dispatcher said something again, but with Clay’s face in mine, I couldn’t concentrate. I hoped help was on the way because I was doing nothing to help anyone at this point.

  “The cost isn’t high when you consider the number of men you have working the ranch.”

  “So what?” I tried to skirt around him but he stepped in my way, blocking my path. “Would you get the hell out of my way?”

  “He’s a fucking convict!”

  Convict?

  My heart slid to my toes.

  “What?” I stammered.

  Clay stabbed an index finger at Will. “They’re all convicts. Out on work-release programs.”

  “Will?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Mike, too?” If so, Harper and I were going to have a face-to-face pronto!

  “Yeah, Mike too. The whole fucking crew. It was my idea. And my responsibility. That’s why I didn’t want them working for you without me.”

  Still frozen in place, I looked down at the subject of our discussion, who was now semi-awake and moving. Alive. Breathing. At least Clay wouldn’t be going to prison for murder. “What did he do?”

  “I don’t know. It’s been a long time since I reviewed his file.” Following the direction of my gaze, Clay looked over his shoulder. “Cops are on the way, you bastard. You’re going back to prison.”

  “To hell with that.” His face swollen and already horrifically bruised, Will struggled to his feet.

  Clay lunged at him. “Don’t make me kick your ass again.”

  This time Will deflected the blow with an arm. “Fuck that! I can’t go back to prison.”

  Despite me holding onto his right arm and using all my weight to try to pull him back, Clay stomped up to Will, stopping when they were chest-to-chest. “You should’ve thought of that before you tried to rape my woman.”

  My woman?

  “Nobody told me she was yours.”

  “I told all of you assholes to keep your hands to your fucking self.” Clay smacked Will’s chest. “That includes you.”

  “I didn’t know, man.” Will lifted his hands, surrendering. “Look, I didn’t hurt her. And I promise I won’t lay a finger on her again, not one. How about you let me go this time?” His wide, pleading eyes found mine. “What do you say, boss?”

 

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