“I’ve been waiting all night for you,” I sigh.
My eyes roll in the back of my head as his movements become a bit rougher.
“Fuck, yes,” he murmurs as he pulls his hand from between my legs and replaces it with the tip of his cock.
“Please,” I whisper.
“I’m all yours, precious,” he groans as he slams inside of me with one swift thrust of his hips.
Henrik’s hands slide under my knees and he spreads my legs wider as he sinks deeper inside of me, his eyes fixed on mine and never moving. We don’t speak. No words are needed as our eyes stay locked onto each other, and we give and take what the other person is offering.
It’s the most connected I’ve felt to a person in my entire life, and he’s a stranger—a one-night stand I married that I’ll probably never see again after the annulment.
I try to not let that fact sadden me. I push it out of my mind as I force myself to cherish every second Henrik’s arms are around me and his cock is inside of me.
I try to open an eye, but holy shit, the pain in my head will not quit. Then there’s some god awful noise happening right next to my head. I finally crack one eye open and reach in the direction of the offending sound for my phone.
“’lo,” I croak.
“Henrik, what in the fuck?” I hear my brother yell.
Fuck, but my older brother is a pain in my arse. He’s perfect, everybody thinks and says so. I know the truth. He’s pigeonholed into a stereotype, and he just stays there and does exactly what’s expected of him because he doesn’t want to rock the boat.
I, however, want that boat swaying and rolling over, rocking and rolling like a fucking hurricane. I may agree to my families wishes, verbally agreeing to their requests, but I find my chances to do as I wish. It’s all about knowing when the right time and place are.
“Shhh, my head is about to pop off. What’s the problem?” I mutter.
I’m sure there are photos floating around of that sexy minx and me dancing it up at the club. Fuck me, but Riona is delicious.
“Well, it was brought to my attention that my dear little brother was partying in Las Vegas last night with a sable haired tart,” he announces.
I shoot straight up. How dare he call sweet Riona a tart. She is anything but. I look over and see her beautiful mass of curls splayed all around her, her face down in the pillow, her back bare.
The sheet is pulled up to her delicious arse, covering more than I would prefer in the moment. Fuck, but she is perfectly delectable.
I want to take her again. Last night is fairly fuzzy, so I want a coherent memory of how it feels to be inside of her. Something I can tuck away for the days when I know I will have to be wed to some cold, frigid, crotchety bitch from good breeding.
“She’s not a tart. Fuck, Philip, you know how these things happen,” I explain quietly as I stand and grab my jeans, pulling them up my legs and hips.
I don’t bother buttoning them before I bend down to grab the rest of my things, walking out of the room so I won’t wake up sweet Riona.
“I have already sent security to gather you and bring you home,” Philip explains, as if his order is law and I have zero say so in the matter.
“Hugh’s somewhere around here, so absolutely not. I’m enjoying my holiday,” I say, sounding like a child. Since Philip is going to treat me like one, it seems almost necessary.
“Hen, come on, my hands are tied. Grandfather saw the photos; he is beside himself. The plane leaves in an hour. Don’t make this difficult, please,” Philip explains.
I let out a puff of air. The last thing I mean to be is a pain in Philip’s arse. I love the bastard, but I want to have fun. I want to do everything I can before I’m forced into settling down. Philip took to settling with his fiancé with ease, but I don’t want to.
I want to live.
I want to have fun.
I want to shag Riona at least a dozen more times.
“All right,” I finally agree.
I turn to walk back to Riona’s room.
“Don’t bother,” Madison says, her body leaning against the door to Riona’s room, her eyes focused directly on me. They’re assessing.
“What?” I ask, turning to look at the little beauty.
“Don’t go in there and make promises to Cait that you can’t, and won’t, keep. You should just slip out now. She’s never had a one-night stand. She’ll be feeling shitty enough about herself without your empty promises,” Madison announces. The little Sprite is a damn cutthroat.
I vaguely remember Riona telling me that she’s an attorney. I couldn’t picture it before, but now, I most definitely can. She’s kind of scary.
“I do want to see her again…” I start to say. I’m promptly interrupted by Madison.
“But you won’t. She’s had a hard enough life, Henrik. I think you’re a really nice guy, and I can tell you mean well, but let’s be honest. If you could, how would you stay with her? Would she be this dirty little secret, hidden away, and visited a few times a year? Would she have this nice, modest home and plenty of money direct deposited in her checking account monthly?”
I close my eyes and think about her words, her questions. She knows who I am. But Riona didn’t seem to know. Was it all a ruse?
“You know who I am?”
“I do. Should I bow, Prince Henrik?” she asks as her lips tip at the corner.
“Does she know who I am?”
“No. She doesn’t have television, and she doesn’t pay attention to tabloids and gossip. It’s not her thing. She has no clue,” she says.
“That was my brother. Apparently, Riona and I have made the paps. The family isn’t happy,” I explain. “I really do like her,” I whisper, sliding my shirt on and buttoning it.
“I’ll tell her as best I can that you didn’t choose to leave her,” Madison says with a sad smile.
I can’t even muster a partial grin. Everything inside of me is screaming to crawl back in bed and make love to the woman I want. Never have I felt so free, so connected to a woman in my entire life. She doesn’t know who I am, and if she does, she truly does not care. I’ve never felt so carefree before. I want that again. I want it every single day.
I don’t say anything else, though. Instead, I wave at Madison before I walk out of the hotel suite. My whole body aches with each step that I take away from the closed door.
I close my eyes whilst on the lift and imagine her face, how utterly devastated she’s going to be when she wakes up and realizes that I’m gone. Madison kept saying it was a one-night stand, and though it started out that way, it doesn’t feel like one now.
It feels like so much—more.
I step out of the lift and make my way toward my own suite. I can shower and change on the plane after a quick stop to my room to grab my luggage. I have a feeling that this will be my last weekend of debauchery—for the rest of my life.
I know my grandfather and father will surely tighten the reigns after this; but not my mother. At least my mother will always be at my side. She believes that I should be allowed my freedoms. The freedom to choose any woman I wish as a wife, to fall in love and be married.
Unfortunately, my grandfather and father will always win any arguments, or discussions, as they would deem them.
Fourteen hours later I am proven correct in my thinking.
My party days are now over. The ice bitch is ready to announce our engagement, and plan a wedding. It’s also time to focus a bit harder on my duties as a prince. I detest the entire idea.
As the second son, the odds of me being in control of anything are almost laughable. So why should it matter who the fuck I marry?
Once Philip produces an heir, it is fairly impossible. Beyond all of that, I don’t want it. I enjoy my work as a venture capitalist, and I have no desire to do anything else, career wise. Philip is great at his duties. I, however, don’t give much of a flip about them.
“Don’t be too upset, Henrik,” my m
other says after my grandfather and father storm out of the room, once they’ve of course waved the paps in my face, and they’ve delivered their demands.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine. Father gave me a dossier, to look over, she’s who’ve I’ve chosen,” I murmur, looking down at my shoes.
“I’m sure she was a lovely girl, but we all have our duties,” my mother, Helena, murmurs before placing a kiss on my cheek and walking out of the room.
Caitriona Geneva Grace wasn’t just a lovely girl. She was sexy and beautiful, fun and sweet, all rolled into one. I fucking hate the fact that I can’t remember the entirety of the evening. I can only remember bits and pieces, and that’s the fucker of it all.
I can’t remember every detail of the best night of my life.
THE WHOLE FLIGHT HOME, I’M busy staring out the window, wondering what happened to make Henrik leave the way he did. I didn’t expect him to be my new boyfriend, but I thought that what we had, the short time we had it, was fantastic, and that he’d at least stay in my bed until morning.
I’m so consumed in my own thoughts that I don’t even realize I’ve been ignoring Madison the entire flight home.
“You’re allowed to sulk over him on this plane only,” Madison announces as the plane begins to descend back into Portland.
“What?” I ask in confusion.
“There isn’t any reason to dwell on someone like him. One-night stands are meant to be full of regret the next morning,” she exclaims.
I really want to regret it, but I don’t. Not a single part of it.
I don’t remember every single second of the night, and I regret that—the fact that I got too drunk to keep the memories fresh.
I do remember the way I felt when his fingers danced across my flesh. I remember the way he held me when we walked together, or when we danced.
I remember the way his beautiful green eyes danced when I acted silly. I also couldn’t forget, even if I tried, the way my body felt when I came with him inside of me. I’ll never forget any of that.
“What exactly happened between you two?” she asks as the plane touches down.
I shake my head, unwilling to answer her. That night with him is my secret, my very own piece of rebellion. And our wedding? I remember we were married. I highly doubt it is all legal, but it’s still ours. We were in Vegas, and we were married at three-thirty in the morning, by an Elvis impersonator.
I’ll never forget the pieces that are bright and burned into my mind. I just wish the entire night was bright and unforgettable.
Walking into work on Monday morning has me feeling nauseous. I’m tired, hungover, and just plain depressed. The last people I want to see are my coworkers, especially Natasha, who is sitting behind the receptionist desk with a cat that ate the canary type of grin on her lips.
“Have a good weekend?” she asks.
“I did,” I shrug, not getting into any details with her.
“I’ll just bet you did,” she chuckles.
“Caitriona, can we see you in the office, please?” Teri, my manager, calls out.
I ignore Natasha and make my way toward the office to find not only Teri, but Stephanie, the owner, sitting at the consultation table. I sit down in the plush chair across from them, which is usually reserved for clients, and look from Teri back over to Stephanie, back over to Teri again, waiting for whatever is coming my way.
“You have to know why you’re here?” Stephanie asks.
I shake my head. I have zero clue why I’m in their office. They’re looking at me like they expect me to say something, but I have no clue what they want from me.
“This,” Teri says, tossing a magazine at me.
My eyes widen and I look down, shocked at what is splayed out in front of me.
I’m on the cover of a gossip magazine.
The. Cover.
I’m on the cover of this gossip magazine, wrapped in Henrik’s arms, wearing Madison’s skimpy dress while dancing in Vegas. I look slutty and awful. The angle is terrible, too. Henrik, of course, looks as handsome as ever. Then my eyes catch a glimpse of the headline.
Badboy Prince Henrik’s sexy night in Vegas with mystery woman.
“What the hell is this?” I ask in a whisper.
“This is going to give us business like you wouldn’t believe,” Stephanie chuckles.
“I don’t want anyone to know it’s me, are you crazy?” I shout.
“Oh, they’re going to know, and it’ll boost sales like mad. Imagine, the woman who spent a night with a prince checking you into the MediSpa. People will book appointments just to meet you, just to try and get you to talk,” Teri says, her voice going up an octave with excitement.
“No, no way,” I say, shaking my head and pushing the magazine away from me.
I don’t want to look at everything I had on display, everything that the world can now see.
“Too late. We’ve already sold that little piece of information,” Teri snickers.
“What?” I breathe.
“It’s probably already online, but we sold your name to the paparazzi—and your place of work. You can’t think that we’d sit on something so juicy, could you?” Stephanie asks with a grin.
I want to slap the grin off of her face, but this is my job and I need it. I don’t know what I’m going to do. This is insanity. Complete and total insanity. I want to scream and cry and bitch slap my bosses all at once. Then I want to curl into a ball and eat a vat of chocolate and drink wine by the gallon to try and forget that this is now my life.
“I’ll give you ten minutes to collect yourself, then it’s back to work. This is going to be a great thing, Caitriona. Don’t make it ugly. You never know the opportunities publicity on this level can bring you,” Stephanie says, squeezing my hand before she and Teri stand and walk away.
I ignore them completely and pull my phone out of my purse before I find Madison’s number and press send.
“You are not going to cry,” Madison practically shouts in my ear.
“You’ve seen?” I ask in surprise.
“I get TMZ updates on my phone by the minute, Cait, you know that. Who the fuck leaked your name this morning?”
“Wait a minute, when did you know about all of this?” I ask in confusion.
“I knew when he picked you up on the date. I didn’t know the world knew until a little later. The morning after your date, he was on the phone in the living area with his brother. News had leaked about his weekend with you, and he was being forced to leave. He looked conflicted, like he didn’t want to go, but he knew he couldn’t stay. I told him to go. I thought it would be easier than if he woke you up and made empty promises,” she explains.
“How could you not tell me?” I breathe.
“I didn’t think anybody would find out it was you. I figured, a few days from Saturday, something new would hit the gossip news and nobody would care about the mystery girl anymore. I knew you didn’t realize who he was, and I knew you liked him and you had fun. Why spoil any of it?”
“You should have told me,” I mutter, resting my head in my hand.
“It’s the first time you’ve ever thrown caution to the wind, Cait. You met a beautiful stranger and had an awesome night. I didn’t want anything to mar that,” she explains.
“Well, I’m fucked now. My bosses are the ones who leaked my name—for money,” I groan.
“Those fucking bitches,” she screeches.
“Agreed.”
“Come over for dinner tonight. James is making salmon; you love salmon,” she begs.
“I need tonight alone. How about tomorrow?”
“No backing out on us.”
“No, I’ll be there. I promise. I just need to freak out tonight alone,” I say with a strained laugh.
“I’m sorry. I should have told you so you’d be prepared,” she murmurs.
“It’s okay, Mads. I understand why you didn’t.”
We end the conversation, me swearing to call her as soon as
I get home to ensure that I’m not a complete basket case and can make it through the night without hugs, chocolate, and wine with my best friend. I take a deep breath before I decide to face what is surely going to be a circus shit show of a day.
“You should have done the CoolSculpting when I suggested it. Bet you’re sorry now,” Natasha giggles as I sit down behind my computer.
I ignore her snide remark and go about my business. The day is filled with walk-ins and busy bodies whispering and pointing at me. Only a handful of women actually have the nerve to ask me about Henrik.
As much as I want to be a bitch and ignore them, this is my job and I need it, so I give them the vaguest answers I can and then excuse myself.
I’ve never been so happy to clock out as I am by the end of the day. I drive home, in my shitty, royal blue Chevy Cavalier, on auto-pilot, unaware of anything but the road and the cars in front of me. That is, until I step out of my car in my apartment’s parking lot and I see the dozens of people surrounding my doorway.
“Oh, shit,” I breathe.
I take a deep breath and decide to be as brave as possible and make my way toward my door. With my head down and my eyes trained on the ground, I climb my staircase. I know when I’ve been spotted because it’s like the air has been sucked from around me.
The crowd of reporter’s circle around me and start screaming questions at me, all of them talking over each other. I do my best to get through their bodies and make my way to my door without saying a single word.
I refuse to speak, not about Henrik or my time with him.
That was for us.
I hate that the world has seen even a glimpse of it.
I don’t bother eating dinner. Instead, I make my way toward my bed, strip my clothes, and slide between my scratchy, cheap sheets.
Sitting straight up in bed what feels like minutes later, my heart beating out of control against my ribcage. My eyes dart around my darkened room, wondering what startled me awake, and then I hear it. My front door rattles.
I live in a studio. I don’t have a bedroom, so I grab my phone and run into the bathroom, closing the door and locking it before I dive into my bathtub and call 9-1-1.
Royally Relinquished: A Modern Day Fairy Tale Page 4