Tempting the Crown

by Violet Paige

  It was like a steel rod. Skin against skin. I pushed back, ignoring the warnings in my head. I wanted to feel him fuck me with nothing between us. I had a birth control device. I could trust it.

  “Shit,” he hissed, sinking into me fully. He dug his fingers into my skin as he reared back and seared his cock inside my pussy again. I bucked at the fullness of him. It was numbing. Blinding.

  We lost control. Our bodies open to a new level of pleasure. Raw and rough. Unbound. Free. He rocked into me.

  “I’m going to come like this,” he growled, fucking me with heavy grunts.

  I gripped the desk, throwing myself into the moment.

  My orgasm attacked me quickly, seizing control of my muscles. I gripped his cock, but Damon pulled out, spilling his release on my back. I felt the heat of him drip along my skin.

  I exhaled, trying to hold myself up. I was completely exhausted.

  “Shit,” he whispered. “Hold on.”

  He used his discarded pants to wipe down my back. I felt the stickiness of my skin.

  He spun me in his arms, planting a kiss on my mouth.

  “I think it’s time I introduced you to the royal shower.”

  “I don’t know if I can stand,” I admitted.

  “No problem, love.” He scooped me up against his chest.

  “You like to carry me around.”

  He nodded, strolling through the residence. “I do.”

  I already knew he was strong. But there was something chivalrous in the way he held me to him. As if he wanted to protect me. As if he could shield me in some way. And in these tiny moments, I wanted to believe in the fantasy. That there was a man who could rock my world and for just a little while make me feel like a queen.

  21

  Damon

  I pressed my thumbprint to the lodestar. It beeped and I opened the cover. I skimmed the top page, checking the royal schedule.

  Liam was leaving the country for two days. He had personal business in London. He had agreed to attend a dinner while he was away.

  Next to the lodestar was the file on the olive grove irrigation. I remembered Molly’s suggestion last night. Something about the simplicity of her words struck me. Isabel was scheduled to return today to the southern part of the country, but I needed to change her itinerary. I had agreed.

  That meant there was a gap in today’s schedule.

  I grinned.

  I picked up the royal line. Sutcliffe answered.

  “Good morning, Your Majesty.”

  I still wasn’t pleased about his interference with Molly’s departure from the palace.

  “I need you to change the itinerary for Princess Isabel today.”

  “Sir, she’s scheduled to leave in one hour for Sangreaux.”

  “I’m going in her place.”

  “Today is your preparation for the cabinet meeting.”

  I clenched my fist. “Sutcliffe, change the princess’s schedule. I will be taking a guest with me to Sangreaux.”

  I could hear his breath through the phone. “Your Highness, who is attending?”

  “Miss Washington,” I answered. “Make sure the arrangements are complete and that someone informs the princess she has the day off. She has traveled non-stop for two weeks. I will be downstairs in forty-five minutes.”

  “But the cabinet vote.”

  Damn it. Sutcliffe pissed me off. He was replaceable. If he couldn’t do what I directed, I’d find another palace manager.

  “I know exactly when it is.”

  “Yes, sir. I will make sure the arrangements are made.”

  I chuckled, knowing he had to scramble to make everything happen. He deserved it after the way he had meddled. The security detail would have to increase. My requirements were double what my sister had.

  I looked up when Molly walked in the office. She grinned shyly.

  “Hi.”

  “Bonjour.” I walked around the desk to greet her. “How did you sleep?”

  She ran her fingers through her long hair. “Like I was in a cloud.”

  “Good. We have plans,” I announced.

  “Oh?” She looked confused.

  “Remember that problem I discussed with you last night?”

  “The olive groves?”

  I nodded. “Oui. That one.”

  “What about it?” She cocked her head to the side, exposing her neck. I couldn’t resist kissing her skin. I inhaled her scent. This woman had me upside down.

  “We’re headed there this morning. It’s an overnight trip. I thought about what you said. I need to speak to the farmers. I need to see the groves. How else am I going to convince the cabinet without first-hand accounts?”

  “You want me to go with you?”

  “You are going with me. Isabel can’t handle the country side anymore.”

  “Excuse me? Are you asking or telling me?” She wiggled out of my hands.

  I scowled. “Is there a difference?”

  Molly crossed her arms. “Yes.”

  I sighed. “Let me guess. You would like me to ask you to go?”

  She nodded. “That’s usually how it works.”

  “I don’t have time for usual. I need you to go with me.”

  “But you haven’t asked what I have going on. How is this different from when security picked me up at the library? I realize you are the king, but you can’t order me to do things, Damon. Ask me.”

  I saw the sapphire hues shimmer in her eyes.

  “I don’t think that’s necessary—”

  She held her hand forward. “Ask me.”

  I shoved my hands in my pockets. No one spoke to me this way. “Molly Washington.” I gritted my teeth. “Would you like to go to Sangreaux to tour the olive groves with me?”

  She smiled sweetly. “Yes, I’d love to.” She threw her hands around my neck and I felt the tenseness loosen in my chest. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  I stared at her. “Same result.”

  She laughed. “Not the point. At all.”

  “We now have thirty minutes.” I untangled her from my neck. “There will be a bag packed for you. Would you like to speak to Ayla about personal items? She will be assigned to you.”

  “Assigned to me? What are you talking about?”

  I folded the lodestar and stacked it on top of my desk. “You need a royal manager to assist you on the trip. I trust her. Kenley would be better, but she’s with Dominic today. She knows how to deal with him.”

  “I don’t need a manager. And I’m capable of packing my own bag.”

  I faced her. “Have you ever attended an official royal event of any kind? A tea? A dinner? A ball?”

  She shook her head, her eyes falling to the floor.

  I lifted her chin. “That is why you have a royal manager. Ayla will prepare everything. She will get you through it.”

  “This seems intense.”

  “It’s life as a royal.” There was no other way to explain it.

  I saw her fidget with the T-shirt. “I need to call my roommate. Brooklyn is probably freaking out. And my laptop. Shit, I forgot about it. All my notes.” She covered her eyes with her palms. “Everything is at the library.”

  I pointed to a bag next to the elevator. “That laptop?”

  Molly ran to the entrance and bent. I smiled at the view.

  She unzipped the top and pulled out the contents. “My phone!” She pressed the buttons and began chatting. I walked to the bedroom. There were a few things I wanted to include in my bag, and it was none of my royal manager’s damned business what I needed for a night with Molly.

  22

  Molly

  Brooklyn had been sleeping, but she was glad I called. “I heard about the royal guard at the library, so I sorta figured it was him.”

  “Yes. It was. And I just got my phone. I would have called sooner.” Neglecting Brooklyn was turning into a bad habit.

  “It’s fine. Really. I get it. You’re with the king.”

  “I
’m not going to be home again tonight.” Damon walked to the bedroom and closed the door. I had a second of privacy to talk to my best friend.

  “Why not?”

  “I’m attending a royal trip.” It sounded like the best way to put it. I certainly wasn’t going to run through the irrigation issues. Brooklyn wasn’t interested in politics.

  “Holy shit, Mol. That’s crazy.” She suddenly seemed more awake.

  “It kinda is, isn’t it?”

  “And what about your dissertation?”

  I looked at the ceiling. I hadn’t noticed it was carved with ornate designs. “It’s ok if I leave it for another day, right? I’m being spontaneous. You have to do it. I would if I could.” I wondered if she was still melancholy over the guy from gala night.

  “Oh, I agree. This is totally spontaneous.”

  The bedroom door opened. Damon stood, holding a small overnight bag.

  “Hey, I have to go, Brooklyn. But I have my phone now.”

  “Thanks for letting me know.”

  “I’ll call you later and we can talk. You can tell me about him.” I should have listened sooner.

  “Thanks, Mol. Have fun. Send me snaps.”

  “I will. Bye.”

  I hung up.

  “Twenty-five minutes,” Damon stated.

  “Right. I just need a pair of yoga pants and hair in a bun. I can do that in five.”

  He eyed me. “This is an official visit from the palace. It’s going to require more than active wear. Ayla is on her way up with a few options.”

  “My royal manager?” It still sounded bizarre.

  “That’s the one.”

  I nodded. “All right.” I started to walk past him. Traveling in yoga pants made sense to me. I had worn them on the flight from Charlotte to Freychon last summer.

  Damon’s hand landed on my wrist. “Molly.”

  “Yes?”

  “Don’t think for a second that you aren’t stunning in glasses and yoga pants.” He winked and let me continue to the bedroom.

  I blushed. I don’t know how he did that.

  A few minutes later there was a knock on the door.

  “Come in,” I called.

  A short woman with her hair pulled into a tight chignon entered. Her blond hair was much lighter than mine. I guessed she was maybe thirty-five. “I’m Ayla. His Majesty sent me to present a wardrobe.” She bowed and I felt completely out of place.

  I shook my head, trying to convey that protocol was unnecessary with me. I didn’t have an ounce of royal blood.

  “I’m Molly. Thanks for your help. I know this was last minute.”

  She walked toward me with a garment bag in her arms. She draped it across the bed and unzipped the center.

  “We have to work quickly. You only have a few minutes before you need to meet the car downstairs. The king is never late.”

  “I’m starting to figure that out.” I looked at the outfits she had selected. I wondered how Damon had described me. How did she know my size?

  “This one?” She held up a blush dress that was sleeveless and fell to my knees.

  “Yes.” I took the hanger. I didn’t need to go through every dress in the collection. “I’ll change and be right out.” I wasn’t picky about clothes.

  “I have pearls,” she called after me. “A gift from the prime minister.”

  “Thank you.” I let the silk trickle over my head and wash down my limbs. I looked in the mirror. I had never worn anything like this dress. It wasn’t flashy or revealing. But it wasn’t so modest that I felt matronly. It was fitted with graceful lines.

  I turned to observe the back. There were tiny buttons that stopped shy of my backside.

  Ayla knocked. “Molly, we need to go. Does it fit?”

  I opened the door. “I think so.”

  “Oh, it’s perfect.” She grinned. “Here are your pearls. Turn around for me.”

  I squatted enough for her to get the strand around my neck and fasten it. “The prime minister left these for His Majesty. They are a specialty from the Bostique Islands, and this seems like the perfect occasion for them. Let me see.”

  I turned to face her.

  “Stunning. Just like a princess.” She smiled.

  I clutched at the necklace. I was afraid of the word. Suddenly afraid of the woman I saw in the mirror. Because I was thinking the same thing. I looked like a princess. And that terrified me.

  ***

  The sun blazed overhead as we walked through the grove. Damon listened as the farmers explained the growing process of the olive trees. I walked next to him, but was careful to hang back a few inches. I realized I was his date, but it felt more natural to let him lead.

  I wasn’t in a position to offer him advice or even interject questions to the farmers. I started to realize there were times when I wasn’t going to be an equal. And if I dated the king, that was going to be showcased in public.

  I observed the interaction with new interest. He leaned in, listening intently to the thick Spanish accent. Damon easily moved back and forth between the languages.

  Ayla was also in our caravan. But she was in a group that waited for us by the cars. Once we stepped into the grove, I was on my own. I had to hope I didn’t screw up some kind of royal rule. I also had to try not to melt in the hot sun and ruin my beautiful dress. It was hard to walk in heels and navigate the rocky terrain.

  Damon offered his hand when we reached a root patch. I thought I heard a camera snap when I took his palm.

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  He grinned, but began asking more questions about the water levels in the area. The farmers argued over how much rainfall they had in the past two weeks. I maneuvered over the next set of rocks successfully.

  I think I was too confident. Feeling graceful and lithe like I was Isabel. I didn’t keep my eyes down when I should have watched every step. My toe hit a root and I tumbled forward.

  I shrieked just as Damon wrapped a hand around my waist, snatching me toward him before I could hit the ground.

  There was no mistaking the sound of cameras now. My eyes widened.

  “Are you ok?” he asked.

  I nodded. “I’m sorry.”

  He set me upright, allowing me a second to find my balance. “I’m so sorry.” The press corps was going crazy.

  “As long as you’re all right, Molly.”

  “I am.”

  He threaded his fingers through mine. “Maybe I should keep a tighter hold. Just in case.” He squeezed my hand and I pressed my lips together to keep from grinning.

  “Thank you.”

  We walked for another hour. I stayed by Damon’s side, taking in every part of the discussion. I had no idea there was so much detail in growing olives. I had clearly taken them for granted.

  We rejoined the caravan.

  Ayla greeted me at the giant SUV that we traveled in from the airport. “You may enter the car,” she whispered. “His Majesty will take a few photos and wave at the crowd. Alone,” she added.

  “Ok.” I climbed into the vehicle. I was grateful to have her there. The idea that I needed a royal manager was seeming less and less ridiculous. There was so much I didn’t know.

  I watched through the window as Damon signed autographs and posed for pictures with the farmers. There were groups of children in the crowd. It seemed as if everyone from the local villages had gathered for the event.

  Ayla sat in the front seat. She turned around, handing me a cold bottle of water.

  “Thank you.” I was thirsty. I didn’t know how royals managed to always appear cool and dry in the heat.

  “How did it go? Did anything happen I should know about?”

  I shrugged. Maybe I should let Damon mention my high heel mishap. I didn’t want to upset her. After all, she was the one who chose my accessories.

  “I didn’t expect it to be so warm.” I fanned myself.

  “Don’t worry. You have several dress options for dinner. You have plent
y of time to shower and prepare for the next event.”

  “Oh good.” I took a long sip. “What next event?” I thought this was the only scheduled appearance we had. Damon was intent to gather as much information on the groves as possible to present to the cabinet.

  She smiled. “I can’t go into details.”

  “Why not?” She was supposed to be my manager. If there were details, I needed to know. I needed mental preparation if it involved socializing with the village’s elite.

  “I’ll let His Majesty explain.” She froze when the car door opened and Damon slipped in.

  “Your Highness.” She nodded and turned to look through the windshield.

  He kicked the dust from his shoes. “I think that went well. What about you?”

  “Did you get the information you needed?” I asked.

  “And then some.” He pulled my hand into his lap. “Thank you. I have what I need to convince the cabinet.”

  I grinned. “I’m glad. They all seemed happy you made the trip.”

  The SUV lurched forward, the tires crunching over dirt and gravel.

  “What’s next?” I asked.

  He looked at me sideways. I caught a glimmer of playfulness.

  “You’ll see.”

  23

  Damon

  Decorum. Rules.

  I hated the bullshit that came along with being the head of the royal family. Ayla pointed Molly to a room across the hall from mine.

  We couldn’t stay in the same suite when we traveled. The country would lose its fucking mind if the citizens thought their unmarried king slept in the same bed as a woman.

  “I’ll have her ready by five,” Ayla assured me, guiding her out of my reach.

  I shoved my hands in my pockets. It was absurd. Molly should be with me in my suite. At my side. In my bed.

  “She doesn’t know about the surprise,” she whispered.

  “Thank you.” I walked into my rooms, closing the door with an irritated thud. I walked to the bar and poured a drink.

  There wasn’t anything that could quench my thirst for her. The bottle wasn’t deep enough.

  I sat on the couch and grabbed the remote. I rarely watched TV unless it was football, but I turned on the flat screen.