Claiming me with each kiss.
With each stroke.
With each caress of his hands as they wander over my body.
“I’m sorry for ignoring you.”
“I love the way you apologize.”
He tilts his head to one side, his light-colored hair even paler in the moonlight that’s shining through the expanse of windows. “What else do you love?”
“The way you move inside me.”
Another thrust of his hips makes me gasp. “Anything else?”
“The way you kiss me.” I tip up my chin, my mouth eagerly meeting his.
“What else, sweet Charlotte?”
My hands dig into his shoulders, my nails making him hiss in pleasure. “Everything…
“Everything you do to me,” I add, realizing how my answer may sound. Bad enough to admit friendship, but more than that…
He pauses, his hips no longer moving as he stares down at me. The brown that circles the centers of his blue eyes is dark, nearly as black as the pupil. He touches my face, sliding his fingers along my jaw and under my chin, only to glide down the center of my chest. Skim along my side and up my back.
Over and over he does this, until I’m writhing and gasping, and feel as though I’m about to die of want and desire.
I moan when he sucks one of my nipples into the hot recesses of his mouth, then moves to the other. He won’t move his hips, won’t go any deeper than he already is. I lift my hips and widen my thighs, but he shakes his head.
“Just enjoy what I’m doing.”
“What are you doing?” I finally cry.
“Making sure I don’t miss loving a single inch of you.”
My heart leaps in my chest at his words, but I don’t say anything more, too afraid to break the spell we’re both under.
Instead I pull his head down to mine and make sure I don’t miss loving an inch of him.
—
The next morning, I wake up to a present sitting in the middle of the bed. It’s wrapped in shiny pink wrapping paper and topped with a large silver bow.
“Happy Birthday,” Brooks shouts, throwing confetti into the air. It lands on the bed, in my hair, and on my skin. “Kinda think you’re starting to look like my birthday present.”
“When’s your birthday?” I ask, then blow a piece of confetti off the corner of my mouth.
“July fourth.”
“No.”
“Oh yeah. My dad was a senator when my brother and I were born, so you can only imagine the press he got for it.” He sits on the edge of the bed and hands me the gift. “Enough about me, it’s your birthday and from my research, a national holiday on the Isle of Man.”
I wince. “Please don’t bring that up.”
“First set of twin girls to be born in two hundred years. That’s a big deal, Princess.”
“Not really.” I pick at the bow, swallowing down the misery that always accompanies my birthday. “Imagine being paraded about, like show ponies, every year and with the knowledge that you will always be forced to celebrate like that.”
“Except this year.”
I nod. “Only Gen has to be on display.”
“Does that bother you?”
“Only for her, but I think she likes it.”
He picks confetti from my hair. “Thanks for spending it with me instead.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Open your present.” He sits beside me. “I know you’re going to like it.”
“So cocky.”
“It’s one of my best traits.”
“If you say so.”
“Along with my huge ego—correction, my used-to-be huge ego.”
Laughing, I tear into the paper like a child at Christmas and open the box. Inside there’s…a key? “You bought me a house?” I ask rather stupidly.
“No, that’s the extra key to my house at the beach. I’m giving you access whenever you want.”
“Really?”
He nods. “You said you’d never been to the coast and now you don’t have an excuse not to go whenever the mood strikes you.”
“That’s…I don’t know what to say.”
“Thank you is good.” He takes the key from me. “If you’re uncomfortable, you don’t have to take it.”
Oh dear. I’ve made a mess of things. A sophisticated woman, a woman with a lover, would have simply taken the key and been all nonchalant about it.
My eyes narrow playfully and I snatch the key back, holding it to my chest. “When did you think of this gift?”
“Last night, after you fell asleep,” he admits with a sheepish grin. “I hadn’t gotten you anything, so I scrambled and got some help from my brother’s friend and his wife. He had the key made and she wrapped it up for me.”
“Tell your brother’s friend and wife that I adore your gift and the effort that went into making it happen.” I kiss his shocked face before setting the key back in the box. “Do forgive me for forgetting how to properly react when a gift is given.”
“You’re adorable when you’re so formal,” he says, clearly back to his old self. “So damn adorable that it’s time to give you a birthday spanking.”
He lunges for me and I scream, jumping from the bed. Obviously, he doesn’t want to catch me yet, because he allows me to get away.
I run, stark naked, into the living room, laughing madly. This is the most fun I’ve had in ages.
“Charlotte,” he roars. “Don’t go out there.”
“It’s my birthday,” I shout, looking behind me. “I can do what I want.”
I nearly stumble into the sofa at the sight of Brooks’s twin standing in front of me, wearing a polo shirt and khaki pants. With a stifled shout, I attempt to cover my breasts and mound with my arm and hand.
“Hullo, I’m Charlotte.” I almost reach out to shake his hand, then laugh nervously. “You must be Briggs.”
“Yes you are.” His smile grows wider. “And yes I am.”
“Turn around, you perv,” Brooks says, marching into the room with a blanket in his hands. He throws it around my shoulders as Briggs gives me his back. “I meant to tell you we had company, but I got distracted when you ran around.”
“Naked and up to no good,” his brother chimes in.
Brooks glares at him. “You’re not helping.”
“Didn’t ask me to. You said to be here at ten A.M. and I did as my big brother ordered.”
“Your brother is staying here as well?” I ask, totally confused.
“No, I’m flying with y’all to Wilmington. This place is Hayden’s.”
“Who’s Hayden?” I ask.
“The oldest brother,” Brooks explains. “He had this apartment before he got married and decided to hold on to it. Briggs and I use it when we’re in town.”
“That’s so nice of him.”
“It would be even nicer if you could get dressed, Princess.”
I become acutely aware of the cold, marble tile against my bare feet. “Yes. I’ll be right back.”
“Take your time,” Briggs calls out, glancing over his shoulder.
“Stop looking,” Brooks says, punching his brother in the shoulder before turning to me and smacking my arse. “Wear something casual. The polo match isn’t until tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir,” I say smartly, and Brooks rolls his eyes. I quite like him like this, protective and bossy.
He follows me to the bedroom. “I’m already packed so when you’re done, we’ll grab a bite to eat and head to the airport.”
Rising up on my tiptoes, I give Brooks a lingering kiss. “For what it’s worth, you are definitely the sexier twin.”
“So are you.” He winks at me, then shuts he door.
Chapter 10
Brooks
In no time at all, we land at a private landing strip on the outskirts of Wilmington. It’s so close to the water that I can already smell the brine. I can’t wait to take Charlotte to the ocean, to the river…basically, all my old stomping
grounds.
“Why are you smiling like a possum?” Briggs asks.
“Because he’s thrilled that the day is so glorious for my birthday,” Charlotte says. “I need to speak with Peter, concerning my itinerary, before we leave.”
I glance over at Peter. He flips me off behind her back and I rub my middle finger down the side of my nose in return.
Childish, maybe.
Satisfying as hell, absolutely.
“Whatever you need, Princess.”
“I won’t be long.” She kisses my cheek and walks away, her hips swaying seductively as she goes. While she talks with him, I pull my brother to the side.
“Don’t you dare tell anyone you saw Charlotte wearing nothing but a smile.”
He gives me an annoyed look. “I’m not the reporter in the family.”
“Still, don’t. She’s very private and her boyfriend’s brother catching her in the nude isn’t something that I want printed about her,” I insist.
A smirk kicks up his mouth at the corners. “Boyfriend, huh?”
Shit. “Lover sounds stupid.”
“So do you.”
“So’s your face,” I say with a grin. It’s scary how easily we turn into teenagers when we’re together.
“Time to go,” Charlotte calls out. Peter opens the car door. “Spit-spot, gents. Get in the car.”
Briggs pretends to bite his knuckles. “Tell me she says that when you have sex.”
“Tell me you still don’t have a thing for Julie Andrews.”
“It’s not Julie, it’s Mary Poppins.” He shrugs. “I can’t help what I like.”
“If you like that type so much, why do you keep dating Mary Poppins and breaking up with her?” I ask as we walk toward Charlotte.
“Because I haven’t found the right Mary Poppins, yet.” He nods at Charlotte. “She sure as fuck isn’t your type.”
“You’ve come to that realization based on an hour plane ride?”
“She’s too nice. Too soft…and in the end you’ll chew her up, then spit her out.” Briggs lowers his voice. “Princess or not, she’s not the high-maintenance ball buster you usually go for. Honestly, I’m shocked you didn’t go after her sister.”
“Charlotte and I have been acquainted for some years now, and I finally was in a position where I could do something to make us better acquainted.” I would have gone after Imogen, if I thought she would give me information as easily or easier than Charlotte. That’s the stark, nasty truth of it.
Briggs eyes me. “You know, it’s a sad fucking thing that I can tell when you’re not only lying to me but you’re also lying to yourself.”
“It’s not a lie.”
Charlotte pokes her head out. “What are you two going on about?”
“Twin stuff—you understand.” I wink at her and she beams at me.
“Completely.” She ducks back inside the car and I turn my attention back to my brother. He’s still staring at me, making me want to tug at my collar and shift my stance. But I resist the urge.
“Listen. I’m not going to do anything to hurt her. We’ve been very honest”—my mouth almost trips over the word—“with each other. It’s nothing to write home about. Simple as that.”
“Then why in the hell are you taking her to meet Mom and Dad?”
Before I can reply, Briggs gets inside, leaving me standing there, still trying to come up with an answer that would satisfy everyone involved.
And failing miserably.
—
Dinner at the Walker house has never been a somber affair. Add in a princess, three grandkids, and four dogs, and it’s a Mardi Gras parade.
Minus the breasts, beads, or voodoo.
Although Grandmother Walker liked to scare us with her stories about ghosts that lived in our house. I suspect she did that to keep three rambunctious boys in line when she took care of us while our mom and dad were on the campaign trail.
Honestly, it worked because to this day there’s a bedroom on the third floor that I refuse to sleep in, no matter how many guests we have, because it’s always horror-movie cold, even in the blazing heat of summer, due to the fact that three days after their wedding, my great-great-great-grandmother hanged herself after learning that my great-great-great-grandfather’s ship had sunk off the coast, with him at the helm.
Then again, I don’t know how we’d all actually be here if that were true, with them being our great- great-great grandparents and all. The next generation of Walkers had to come from someone.
“Did she walk the grounds after that?” Charlotte asks, clearly eating up every bit of Grandmother Walker’s story. “Perhaps still waiting for her husband?”
Grandmother Walker nods. “You’ve heard of the story, I see.”
Charlotte shakes her head. “No, but we had the very same thing happen at the…palace—er, my home on the Isle of Man. Twice.”
Grandmother Walker reaches beside her, grabbing Charlotte’s hand, clucking over her sympathetically, like a mother hen. “You poor dear.”
“It’s a wonder that any Sinclairs are left, honestly.”
Briggs, Hayden, and I stare in wonder at the two of them. Grandmother Walker only loves three things in life: Chuck Norris, the Bible, and her family. Charlotte doesn’t fit in any of those categories.
We’re in the family room now, where we always gather after big dinners.
My father, my brothers, and I are huddled around the bar while the ladies chat and my nieces and nephew play with Legos on the floor beside us. As soon as the oldest, Hollis, finishes sorting everything, I plan to build a ship with Deacon.
“Make sure you don’t step on one of those. For some reason, once you’re older than twenty-one, all of a sudden those damn things hurt like a son of a bitch,” Hayden advises. “I don’t remember that as a kid.”
“Please,” Briggs scoffs. “You’re just a wuss when it comes to pain.”
“Prove it,” my dad says and takes out a five-dollar bill. “Anyone else with me?”
“I’m in.”
“Me, too.”
Briggs rolls his eyes and lifts a leg, but Hayden pushes him back. “Not so fast. You can’t step on a group of them that large. Equal pressure along the foot.”
“Blindfold him and put some in his path,” I suggest, an evil grin breaking out on my face.
“Blindfold. Handcuffs. Doesn’t matter,” Briggs insists. “I won’t scream like a girl.”
Hollis glares up at her uncle. “You’ll scream like a daddy and my daddy screams like a daddy.”
“That sounds about right.” I snicker. “Hollis, honey, why don’t you and Deacon set up a course for Uncle Briggs.”
“I want to build a castle,” Carridean, my youngest niece, announces, and she tugs on my pant leg. “Will you help me, Uncle Brooks?”
Unable to resist her big eyes and sweet voice, I get down on my knees beside her. Sure as shit, a Lego jabs me in the knee and makes my eyes water. Biting back a curse, I dig the damn thing out and toss it back into the pile.
“You bet I will.”
“Can the real princess come help? I bet she knows a lot about building castles. Probably more than you.”
“We can always ask.” I glance over at Charlotte, only to find her staring at me. She looks away, a pink flush to her cheeks. “Carridean needs your help, Charlotte. She thinks you know how to build a castle properly.”
Charlotte jumps to her feet and rushes over, her smile bright. “I adore building proper castles.”
“You talk funny, like Peppa Pig.”
“Thank you.” Charlotte laughs, then helps with building the base of the castle. “Shall we have a dungeon?”
“Does your castle have one?”
I shoot a glare at Hayden, whispering, “How much did you share with the kids?”
He gives me a helpless shrug. “I don’t remember.”
“Don’t remember my…” I growl instead of saying ass.
“Yes, but it’s only for looks.
I don’t think anyone’s lived in the castle for years and years,” Charlotte says, ignoring me.
“I want a tower,” Carridean announces. “And have long hair so a prince can climb up it.”
“That sounds rather painful,” Charlotte says. “Perhaps a lovely trestle instead. My father climbed up one of those the first time he met my mother.”
My niece’s eyes grow big. “He did?”
Charlotte nods. “Boys tend to do that when they want to impress a girl.”
“Is that true?” I ask.
“That’s what I’ve always been told.”
“Maybe someone took pictures or videotaped it.”
“Perhaps.” Charlotte leans forward, taking a tiny window and securing blocks around it. “But the history of my parents’ rule has been put away.”
What does that mean? I can’t ask her that, not here, not in front of my family.
Briggs lets out a string of curses that makes my ears turn red. I cup my hands over Carridean’s ears while Hayden shouts, “Earmuffs!”
Hollis and Deacon cover their ears, but their twin smiles are mischievous. I’m betting that their hands aren’t covering everything.
“Admit it, Briggs. You lost.”
Briggs tears his blindfold away. “Double or nothing?”
“Bath time,” Saylor announces, and the kids groan. “We have a huge day tomorrow and I promise I will spend almost every minute of it here.”
“I’ll clean up, Carridean, so you can take a glorious bubble bath,” Charlotte offers. “I’ll try not to be too jealous.”
“Momma, I want a glorious bubble bath.”
Saylor smiles, but her eyes are bouncing between her daughter and Charlotte. “And that would entail?”
Carridean looks to Charlotte. “Bubbles. Lots and lots of bubbles. One can never be too clean before bedtime.”
“That sounds easy enough.” Saylor flashes Charlotte a grateful smile. “We’ll see you tomorrow, right?”
Charlotte nods. “Of course. Brooks will be my champion and wear my colors.”
“I’m not playing,” I admit after Saylor, Hayden, and the kids leave.
She makes a face. “Why not?”
“Because—”
Briggs tosses a Lego at me. “He doesn’t do the preppy stuff anymore. He’s all citified now.”
Royal Affair Page 10