“I’m going to go take a quick shower. Don’t let Amelia leave without me.”
“Will do.” Parker leaves quickly.
I want nothing more than to decompress after what I’ve been through, but duty calls, and I have a job to do. Even though I’m tired as hell, I take the stairs two at a time, entering our bedroom. Amelia isn’t here and I don’t expect her to be, even though I wish she was. Her quiet strength is needed right now. More for me than for anything else. With this being a huge event, I’m almost positive she’ll be down on the first floor, getting ready with Shannon.
There isn’t time for me to shave, or do anything other than shower and put on my suit. It’s almost robotic as I get in, washing off the best I can. The warm water does nothing to wake me up, and I’m half-afraid I’m going to fall asleep at the worst time tonight. I’m clasping my cufflinks when I hear the door to the bedroom open. Glancing up, my mouth falls open at the vision standing in front of me.
“Lia…” The tone of my voice perfectly accentuates the awe I feel looking at her.
She smiles shyly, smoothing her hands down the puffy skirt of her dress. “Is it too much?”
I hold my finger up, turning it in a circle. “Let me see.”
Doing a little curtsy, she spins around. “What do you think?”
It shows off everything in a sensual way that’s not revealing. Only I know what’s underneath the clothing she wears, and the thought makes my chest puff out.
I’ve never been this guy. The one who gets all caught up in the woman he’s with. There’s never been a pride I had with the woman on my arm, but her? I have so much pride in being with her, I feel like I won’t fit through the damn door. If anyone were to ask me, she’s going to be the best part of me. This woman will make me a better man.
Walking over to her, I put my hand up to her cheek, cupping it. “You look absolutely gorgeous. This color sets off your eyes, I don’t know what they’ve done to your hair, but the way these little pieces,” I reach out with my free hand, twirling the strand around my finger, “hang down and brush your shoulders is sexy as hell.”
She blushes, leaning into my body, letting me take her weight. I hold her up firmly, the way the thought of her has held me up the past day I’ve spent without her. She must be wearing heels, because she comes higher than collar bone level with me. “You look handsome yourself.” She runs her hands along my shoulders before twining her arms around my neck. Casually I put my arms around her waist, holding her in the same familiar way she holds me. “I like the way you look normally, but when you put on a tux, Your Highness? You get this James Bond look about you, all sexy and mysterious. Especially when you have this sleepy look to you. How tired are you? And this beard? You look hot.”
The side of my mouth tilts up as she rubs her hands against my neck. I could purr as she digs those fingers into my tight muscles. This is how I want to spend the rest of the night. Relaxing with her hands all fucking over me. “Damn tired,” I groan when she hits a particular tense piece of tissue. She rubs, trying to get the knot out. “But not tired enough to waste the way you look tonight, Lia.”
Capturing my lips with hers, she kisses me softly, before pulling back. She doesn’t let it get out of hand, which slightly disappoints me, but I let her pull away. Her eyes shine as she looks up at me. “What exactly does that mean?”
Licking my lips, I drown in the taste of her, move my hand around her cheek to her neck, pulling her closer to me. Inhaling, I let her scent wash over me. “It means.” I move my mouth close to her ear, whispering darkly, “I can’t wait to get you home, and mess up this perfect hair you have. Can’t wait to see what you have on under this dress, and fucking can’t wait to smear this lipstick.”
Smearing her lipstick is going to become a favorite pastime of mine. Whenever she looks perfect, all I want to do is mess her up.
We’re both quiet as we stare at one another, and I wonder for a brief moment if I’ve gone too far. She’s not used to me, and I’m not exactly used to what she expects from me. Maybe I’ve overstepped. “Is that okay with you?”
Her cheeks are bright, her eyes slightly glassy when she looks back up at me. She takes a deep breath, seeming to try and compose herself. “More than okay, Tris. Let’s leave as soon as we can?”
The honesty in her gaze hits a piece of my heart that hasn’t been touched in a long time, and I find myself doing something I haven’t done since my mom was alive. On impulse, I hold out the pinky of my right hand. She grins at me, holding hers up and hooking it around mine. Our pinkies entwine, her cool skin touching the warmth of mine.
“Pinky promise, Lia, and I don’t make a pinky promise I can’t deliver.”
Her eyes are round, almost as if she can’t believe what I’ve just done. And I get it, it’s such a juvenile promise to make, but it’s always been one I see as important. Back when I was small, this was the one promise I didn’t break to my mother. She taught me that each person has something they will never go against. This promise was ours, and I want to have the same kind of promise with Lia. Maybe I can’t voice the feelings to her yet, but I damn well can prove to her how much she means to me by my actions.
Sometimes actions speak louder than words, and I hope like hell she can read between these lines.
“We’re ready.” Parker enters the room, his eyes going to our entwined pinkies.
As I escort her out of the room, I wonder just how in the hell this woman got under my skin so quickly.
Chapter Eighteen
Amelia
“Are you nervous?” Tristan asks as he sits next to me in the back of our limo.
We’ve just entered and have about thirty minutes before we reach the venue. “A little, but I’m more worried about you.” I brush my hand over his hair, bringing my palm around his bearded cheek. “You look so tired.” I run my fingertip underneath his eyes, wishing I could erase the dark circles. He looks like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders, and perhaps he does - at least the weight of a country.
“I’m exhausted,” he admits as he yawns loudly. “It’s the way this whole thing goes though. Somebody has to worry about the safety of the country, and that person is me.” His soft voice whispers. “Nothing in the world means more to me than making sure you’re safe.”
“Why don’t you take a nap as we drive over.” I hate to see him so tired, and I hate that he’s decided to come with me, after not having slept. The stress and lack of rest is so apparent in his face. He looks like he’s aged a few years in just the past few hours. It looks good on him though, he’s the type of man who will be handsome when he gets older. I hate the circumstances which has brought it forth.
He checks his phone, grimacing slightly. “I wouldn’t be able to sleep long.”
The part of me that wants to take care of him, argues vehemently. “A little bit is better than nothing.”
“Come on.” I pat my lap, much like I would do with a small child. In many ways there are certain instances where he does remind me of a child. Of the child who lost his mother too early, and is trying desperately to be the man she would have wanted him to be. “Tris, lie down and get some sleep.”
Tristan looks like he wants to argue, but he gives in as he yawns again. I scoot further over into the corner of the limo as he stretches out, putting his head in my lap. It’s this surrender of security that’s my undoing. The fact he feels safe enough to let his guard down lets me know exactly how deeply involved with one another we are.
“Wake me up when we get there?” He grabs hold of my hand, entwining our fingers together. My heart melts slightly when he brings the back of my hand up to his lips, kissing it gently before laying it on his stomach.
“Yeah, just relax for a little while.”
He closes his eyes. I can’t help but to rub against the way his forehead is crinkling. His face finally starts to relax as his breath evens out and he slips into sleep.
Funnily enough, I hardly ever get a chance
to see Tristan asleep. I’m typically always asleep before him, because I feel so safe. I wonder how safe he feels with me, if I help him to come down from what has to be the anxieties of his position. One day I won’t be asking myself these questions, I have complete faith the two of us will be talking about it. We’ll have the relationship and marriage my parents have.
My parents are each other’s best friend, they do most everything together, and there’s not a night they go to bed angry with one another. They always work out their problems.
Any problem at all is worth working out.
This is exactly how I want to be with Tristan. Looking down at him, my heart flutters, and a small smile works its way onto my lips.
In sleep, he looks much younger than his years. His face smooths out, and the tension that always seems to be at his neck and shoulders dissolves. Obviously there’s a huge weight on him, knowing that he’s the person making the biggest decisions for a nation. Even if he were used to it, it would be extremely nerve-wracking.
His hands grips mine in his sleep, and for this moment I’m thankful that he’s able to have this time and I’m able to have it with him. Able to give it to him. As much as he’s changing, I’m changing too.
One day there will be people that try to pull us in different directions, one day we might not be able to stand as united front without someone trying to tear us down. But here, right now, in the back of this limo, we’re anchors for each other. The swirling sea around us resembles the one not far from the road we’re driving on. But I know one thing is for certain. I’ll never take this or him for granted.
As scared as I was to be his wife, I’m even more scared to live my life without him.
“Tris.” I lean over, kissing him softly. “Wake up, we’re here.”
I don’t want to disturb him, but it’s time for us to put on a show. It’s a show that’s starting to sit deeply in my heart.
His palm cups the back of my neck, pulling me down for a kiss of his own. Immediately he sits up, stretching. His eyes are alert, the lines of fatigue are gone from his face. I’ve never seen someone improve so much by just a small catnap.
“That’s exactly what I needed.”
“You don’t even look like you were tired.” I brush his hair back from his forehead, fingering some of it that got mussed. Even though I haven’t been able to tell him my feelings, I can show him.
“Lots of practice after partying hard the night before.” He winks. There’s a little bit of danger in the grin he gives along with the wink.
“I didn’t know that about you,” I laugh.
He puts his arm around me, kissing me on the forehead. “And hopefully you never will. I like to think I’ve evolved. I know I don’t need that mindless company anymore. You completely make up for the loneliness I was feeling.” He taps the tip of my nose.
The partition in the limo lowers and I hear Parker speak. “We’re about to get out, be prepared.”
Immediately I’m nervous, as nervous as I was on the balcony of the palace. Here there won’t be twenty or so feet in height separating me from the looks and cameras of the world. With the spotlight on us, they’ll be able to tell if my smile doesn’t quite meet my eyes. Maybe a spot was missed when my makeup was put on. Someone will point it out. We’ll be under a microscope and I’m unsure if I’m ready.
Out of the frying pan and into the fire, I think the saying is. This is exactly how I feel right now.
Parker gets out, coming to the back of the limo, where Tristan gets out, before he reaches in to give me his hand. “Slow if you need to,” he cautions as I set one foot down on the pavement, get my balance on the heel of my shoe, and then swing my other leg around. As I stand, brush my skirt down, take Tristan’s arm, and glance up, I’m not prepared for the amazing amount of photographers in front of us. I’m blinded as flashes go off, but I keep the smile on my face and hold on tightly to Tristan as he walks us down the red carpet.
He’s slow, making sure my dress is out of the way, every time I take a step. It warms a spot in my stomach as he takes care of me. Reporters shout out questions, wanting to know personal details.
“Amelia, have you picked out a wedding dress?”
“Tristan, how are the two of you getting along?”
“Amelia, what was the first kiss like?”
“Tristan, have you done anything romantic for your bride-to-be?”
As instructed, we ignore all of the questions, smiling this way and that. Tristan turns his head to mine, we’re standing close together, I can see his eyes flitter down to my lips and that’s the only indication I get that he’s about to kiss me. The kiss is slow, sensual in its own way, even though all we do is touch lips. He’s lazy in his possession. It doesn’t mean I feel it any less. This claim is just as potent as any other one he’s staked on me. In a way it’s even more so because he’s doing it in front of the public.
There are whistles breaking out from every part of the gallery where the photographers and reporters have gathered. My cheeks heat, and I know a blush covers the skin.
Tristan clears his throat. “If you don’t mind, my fiancée and I have a party to attend.” There are laughs and giggles from the same people who were just whistling.
I’m glad he speaks, because I can’t. Not now, I have to pull myself together. Even when he doesn’t try, he’s able to pull me apart and put me back together in a way that leaves me shaky. Not shaky in a bad way either, in the best damn way. If given the chance I’d be this shaky for the rest of my life.
And when we enter the ballroom, I realize quickly just how much out of my element I feel.
“We’re here, we’re together, and then we get to home together,” Tristan whispers in my ear.
I give him a smile, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “You’re right. Let’s get this show on the road.”
Chapter Nineteen
Tristan
I’m doing my level best to pay attention to what these very important people are saying to me. They are members of boards we rely heavily on within the government, they are the people who make donations to many charitable causes we support as the leaders of our nation. But the fact of the matter is, I’m distracted.
Completely and totally distracted.
By one person. The person who has had my attention since she appeared in my life.
My soon-to-be-wife on the other side of the room.
Over the course of the last few hours I’ve observed her from afar. Unfortunately I can’t be at her side; tradition calls for us to work rooms separately so that we can give more people the attention of the crown. Watching her smile at the appropriate times, laugh when the situation called for it, and thoroughly bewitch anyone she’s come into contact with makes me proud. The worst part about it? I want her to be with me. Tonight, I don’t want to share her laughs, smiles, or anything else with anyone. They are all mine, and I’m salty I have to share.
“I heard about the situation going on,” Barrett Wimberly, son of one of my father’s biggest supporters, whispers as he comes to stand next to me.
He and I have been friends for years, I would consider us very good friends, if asked. “It’s been taken care of/” I take a sip of my scotch. “Just barely.”
“Did you face any opposition, my King?” The side of his mouth twitches with a grin as he lifts his own scotch up to take a drink.
“Fuck off,” I whisper. “How long have we known each other? You’ll never call me King.” My mouth twitches as well. I’m grateful to have people like this in my life. My father doesn’t, and it’s obvious in the way he’s secluded himself in past years. “At least to my face.”
He lets the laugh overtake him, as do I. Laughing with friends is the best thing to alleviate a stressful situation, outside of being with Amelia.
“To answer your question, no opposition yet,” I sigh. “But I haven’t officially taken the crown yet either. I’m prepared for there to be something. In this day and age, it seems no one lets anyon
e else peacefully do what they’re supposed to. There’s always someone in the crowd who wants to ruin it for everyone else.”
“It’s going to be a big week for you when you do. Marriage, ruling of a nation, the crown. I mean this will be the biggest week of your life.”
The way he says it, presses forward how much is going to change. It’s more real when others say it.
“No doubt,” I agree. “I know I can be honest with you, and I have to say I think I’m more excited about marriage. The crown, the title, the palace - that’s all good. But there’s something about her.” I tilt my glass in her direction.
Barrett glances at me, his eyebrows drawn together. “Are you perhaps falling in love with your soon-to-be wife?”
I take another sip of the scotch, letting it work its way down my throat. The burn is welcome as I contemplate what he’s asked. It’s not an easy answer. Just like anything else worth having, love is complicated, and I’m unsure of whether I’m ready to say the words to anyone. “Love is a strong word, one I haven’t said much of since my mother passed away, but I do find myself caring deeply for her.”
He snorts, like he doesn’t believe me. And maybe he doesn’t, but that’s his issue, not mine.
“You’ve got it bad, Tristan.”
I shrug as my eyes track her across the room. There are a few things I’m willing to share with my friend, honestly with anyone who asks. There are certain parts of Amelia’s personality I wish everyone were privy to. “She makes my days better and I’ve never had someone who did that for me.”
“Then I would say you’re a very lucky man.” Barrett claps my shoulder as he moves on to the next person he needs to speak to.
Royal Rebel: A Royal Romance (The Haldonia Monarchy Book 1) Page 10