Royal Affair

by Marquita Valentine

  “Shut up.”

  “Hey, I was trying to save you a bruised ass…and ego.” Briggs holds up his hands. “Princess, I’ll be honored to wear your colors tomorrow.”

  “That would be lovely. Thank you, Briggs.”

  “You’re welcome.” He smirks at me and mouths, “Mary Poppins.”

  Yes, I know my brother is busting my balls. Yes, I know that to feel so damn jealous over something so dumb is…dumb, but that doesn’t stop me from grabbing Charlotte’s hand.

  “Is something the matter?” she asks.

  “Thought you’d like to have a look at my mother’s roses.”

  “But Georgiana already gave me a tour.”

  “I’ll give you a better one.”

  I lead her down the stone path that shows us the way to the greenhouse. Over the years, all of us have gotten busted for bringing girls in here. It’s warm, humid, and filled with flowers—the trifecta needed to get women out of their clothes.

  Except it’s June and Charlotte’s wearing a dress that’s so thin that I can feel the heat of her skin under my palm, where it rests on her lower back.

  “Let’s go to the dock.”

  “Haven’t seen that, so I’m game,” she says cheerfully. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to walk instead of run.”

  I slow down, making sure she doesn’t trip over the wooden planks of the pier. Moonlight and solar-powered lights mounted on posts show the way to the end. One of our smaller boats is docked on one side, so I lead her to the other.

  “Sorry. Was in a hurry to get some fresh air.” I toe off my deck shoes and let go of her hand to roll up my pants before plopping down and sticking my feet in the river. “We can go fishing, if you want?”

  “Not tonight.” Bending over, she takes off her wedges and flashes me in the process. That helps…a little. “I think I’d rather put my feet in the water and relax with you.”

  “C’mon in. The water’s fine.”

  “Is it?” She glances at the house off in the distance, then at me. “How private are we?”

  “No one is around for miles.”

  “How deep is the water?”

  “Around the pier—about three and a half feet deep right now.” I point to a post that’s used to measure the water’s the depth. “Always check that before diving.”

  Her dress, panties, and bra drop to the ground so fast that my head spins. “Good to know.” She jumps into the water, feetfirst.

  As soon as I get my clothes off, I join her. Moonlight washes over her features, making her look ethereal.

  “Hullo,” she says, swimming up to me. Her expression is serious and concerned. “Feeling better?”

  Standing, I grab her to me, relishing the feel of her curves and soft skin. Water laps at us, frogs sing in the distance, and lightning bugs flash all around us.

  “Getting there.”

  “Are you over your jealous snit?” she asks, failing to conceal her smile.

  “I wasn’t jealous.”

  “Yes, you were.” Her smile turns crooked. “Admit it, you don’t like it when other men find my Mary Poppins–like accent alluring.”

  “Alluring, huh? More like my brother has X-rated fantasies that would make you run away screaming.” I kiss the top of her head. Her hair smells faintly of flowers; it’s a scent that I associate with her now. “How much of our private conversation did you eavesdrop on?”

  “Just a little.” She runs her hands down my arms, then back up again. “You’ve been working out even harder, I think.”

  “Don’t try to butter me up,” I warn her, even as I flex a little. Yeah, I’ve been working out harder and, yeah, I fucking love that she notices. What man wouldn’t?

  She cocks her head to one side. “You have absolutely nothing to worry about when it comes to your brother…or anyone else, for that matter. We agreed to be exclusive during our affair.”

  My gut clenches at that. “How long do you see that lasting?”

  She taps a finger on her chin, water dripping down to smatter her chest with clear dots that end up sparkling in the moonlight. I want to lick her there, take her breasts in my hands and kiss her nipples.

  My erection starts to grow, starts to become so hard that she has to feel it.

  “I don’t have anything with me,” she says, but that doesn’t stop her from grinding up against me.

  “Not on birth control?”

  She shakes her head.

  Damn it. “I don’t, either, and trust me, sex in the river…not a great idea, anyway.”

  “You’ve experience in this?”

  “A little. When I was much younger and way dumb.”

  “Last year, eh?”

  “You have jokes? Well, I’ve got fingers and I know where all your ticklish spots are.” Touching her in all those sensitive places has her laughing so hard that she’s writhing in my arms and slipping under the water. Her hair becomes plastered to her face and there are some pine needles stuck to her arm. Her mascara is running…but strike me with lightning, if she makes me think of things that weren’t even on my radar before.

  “You are so beautiful.” I kiss the corner of her mouth, then make my way down her throat and to the tops of her breasts, where water glistens. “Moonlight looks good on you.”

  “Brooks.” My name is a sigh on her lips. It sounds so perfect from her that the thought of any other man’s name being whispered makes me see red.

  Spinning her away from the house, I continue to kiss her neck but let my hand travel down her body and slip between her legs.

  Her head falls back as I find her clit. It’s swollen, ready to be touched. Her back arches, nipples pointed and hard. I cup a breast, rolling a nipple between my fingers. Her ass rubs against my dick, making me close my eyes to the pleasure.

  I force my eyes to open so I can watch her come undone in my arms. She falls apart so beautifully, so easily for me that I feel like the most powerful man on the planet.

  When she sags against me, I adjust my cock so it rests between her ass cheeks and begin to roll my hips, letting the feel of the water and her skin bring me to my own release.

  Gasping, I come all over the small of her back and a primal pleasure arises at the sight. I’ve marked her, made her mine. I want to beat my chest and show every guy out there what I’ve done.

  But I don’t.

  I’m civilized.

  I’m mostly a southern gentleman.

  Mostly.

  Charlotte turns in my arms, her head coming to rest against my chest. She places the flat of her palm right over my heart. “I don’t want our affair to end.”

  I think of all the smartass replies I could decimate her with. It would be for her own good. She would leave, never tell me her biggest secret, and I could publish whatever’s in that fucking envelope without an ounce of guilt.

  Save my company.

  Win a prize I covet.

  Earn the respect of my colleagues.

  Go back to my old life—one free of a sweet princess named Charlotte.

  I cover her hand with mine. “Neither do I.”

  Chapter 11

  Charlotte

  “Is this a bad time?” I ask Gen as we Facetime in our respective bedrooms. Brooks isn’t with me due to the fact that since we’re not married, we can’t share a bed—Walker family rule, which I abided by and Brooks grudgingly accepted. I don’t mind really, because I swear that my face would be red in the morning from the knowing looks we’d get from his brothers.

  Gen’s mouth opens wide in a yawn. “Actually, I was headed to bed.”

  I glance at the time. “It’s nearly three P.M. your time, Gen!”

  “The real party didn’t start until four A.M.” She props up her phone and begins to brush through her long hair. “Devereaux made me leave at five—apparently one can’t have too much fun on their birthday.”

  “Then what did you do?”

  She smiles. “Went to another party thrown in my honor.”

&nb
sp; “He allowed that?”

  “No. I might have sneaked out. He’s slightly furious with me, but I don’t care.”

  I sigh. “Gen. You can’t sneak around like that. It’s not safe for you.”

  “Yet you get to spend our birthday with your boyfriend’s family,” she accuses, like I’ve given up everything to run off with the circus.

  “My plans were approved by Peter and he’s here as well. It’s not as if I have complete freedom.” Yet it slightly feels as though I do. The Walkers are very kind and giving and don’t make too much of a fuss over my title. Perhaps Brooks had a hand in that. He seems to always be concerned not only for my physical comfort but for my emotional comfort as well.

  That doesn’t fit with the man I knew by social media reputation only.

  And last night…he doesn’t want our affair to end, either. I know I shouldn’t have put that out in the universe like that, but fortunately he feels the same way. Perhaps not exactly as I do, but it has to be close.

  Gen ruthlessly pulls the brush through her brown curls one last time before tossing it on the vanity. “I know that look. You’ve had it before when you thought no one noticed.”

  “What look is that?” I fidget in the lovely brocade chair that faces the river. The same river where Brooks and I spent most of the evening. It was rather romantic, with the fireflies and the moonlight. Erotic, too, with the way he touched me.

  “You’re in love.” She narrows her eyes at me. “You cannot be in love with him.”

  “Why not?” There’s no use in lying to her or to myself.

  “Because if I have to be with someone who’s suitable, so do you…as my heir.”

  I sit up straighter. “Are you forbidding me from seeing him?”

  Gen tips up her chin. “Perhaps.”

  “You don’t have the right.”

  “I have every right. You’ve barely known this man for two weeks.”

  “You can’t put a timetable on love,” I insist. “And he knows things about me.”

  Gen groans. “Naturally, he does. He’s a reporter, Char. He investigated us, put us out in the world again after we’d hid rather nicely out in the open for a decade.”

  “Not those things. Private things…about me. Things I’ve only shared with you…and with Colin and Theo due to circumstances beyond my control.”

  “How do you know he won’t use those private things against you?”

  “I have to trust him to keep his word,” I say firmly. “Love requires trust.”

  “What if he doesn’t love you?” she asks, making my heart pinch.

  “Why does it matter since you’ve basically decreed that we cannot be together?”

  Gen doesn’t answer me right away. Instead she stares off into the distance, just over her mobile. “I don’t have the power to do such a thing. I’m jealous, okay? Fantastically jealous that you are in love, are dating and meeting his family, like a normal person.”

  “I’m sorry.” I swallow and finally get down to the real reason I called. “Shall I become queen and relieve you of the title?”

  Every year, on the day after our birthday, I ask her this. I make sure that what was put in place is still her wish.

  Her eyes flash with anger, then sadden. “No, I shall remain queen.”

  “Then I shall remain silent.”

  A genuine smile curves her lips. “I love you, big sister.”

  “I love you, too,” I whisper. “And I’m sorry for what Nanny did.”

  “It’s not your fault I was her favorite, not your fault that the hateful old bat switched us,” she reminds me.

  “We—I could have fixed all that. We had the chance.”

  “Our mother wouldn’t have believed it,” Gen says firmly. “We were only ten years old.”

  “Old enough to learn the truth from Davies,” I counter.

  “He sought to drive a wedge between us. Even after their deaths, he kept at it, not stopping until he resigned. That fool thought he could convince me you wanted to overthrow me.” She smiles bitterly. “He didn’t have a clue that we recorded every conversation we had with him.”

  “I quite enjoyed the look on his face when you told him,” I say with a laugh. “I think that’s what pushed him to resign, along with Colin’s marriage to Della.”

  “I don’t know,” Gen says slowly. “Davies is rather like one of those fish that play dead, let the other fish get their nibbles and bites, think they’ve won…and then rises from the dead to swallow his enemies whole.”

  I shiver at the comparison. “Do you think Beaumont is really our father?” I ask.

  We haven’t spoken about it in years, but it’s been on my mind more and more lately. Beaumont doesn’t talk about it, either. He remains at St. Claire, acting as personal bodyguard to Colin and his family.

  “Honestly—no. I think our parents were like nearly every other aristocrat we’ve met, too rich with too much free time on their hands, so they liked to mess with everyone’s lives. Besides, if that slimeball Davies could prove we aren’t legitimate, he would have done so by now,” she says. “If only we could convince Theo to take a paternity test to prove otherwise.”

  “He says he doesn’t care anymore.”

  Gen sighs. “What else do you expect him to say?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know, but this hurt him more than any of us. You and I, we’re secure as long as we’re our mother’s children. And we are, there is no doubt.” Gen and I are nearly exact replicas of her. “Our little brothers don’t care because they weren’t brought up as princes. They’re very lucky.”

  “I don’t know. Some days it’s good to be queen.” She gives me a sly grin. “Did I tell you that the third party I went to was in the bathhouse? The one on the island directly across from Man?”

  “Oh you didn’t!”

  “No one cared that I’m the queen. They treated me like I was one of them. I got dunked in the pool. Went skinny dipping with scantily clad male servers.” She closes her eyes for a minute. “For a whole ten minutes, I was in heaven.”

  “Only ten minutes?”

  “Devereaux broke up the party,” she says flatly. “A queen shouldn’t be flashing her arse to the world. I told him he could kiss my arse.”

  My eyes widen. “Gen, you are horrible in the best way. I could never tell Peter that.”

  “Oh please.” Gen waves a hand in the air. “You’re carrying on with a man who holds people like us in contempt.”

  “I don’t think he feels that way about everyone. Just people in power who take advantage of those who aren’t.”

  “You are such a romantic,” she says with a shake of her head.

  My door opens with a knock and Brooks walks in. “Ready for brunch?”

  Gen makes a face at me. “Is that him?”

  “No, I let strange men into my bedroom all the time,” I say with a wink at Brooks.

  He cocks a brow in response.

  “Guess I’ll go to bed so you can take your man to bed.”

  I flush hotly. “We have to eat first.”

  That makes Brooks grin widely.

  “I mean, it’s time to eat.”

  “Go on. We’ll chat later. In fact, I’ll Facetime you when I’m ready,” Gen says.

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  She sticks out her tongue, in a very non-queen-like way, and I end our call.

  Brooks crosses the room to kiss me. “I take it that you didn’t tell her about the Walker rules.”

  “There are more?”

  “Yes, but the one I’m talking about is the second most important one.” He holds out his hand and pulls me to my feet when I take it. “It’s out of respect for everyone, really.”

  “Like I told you last night, I think it’s charming. I wasn’t offended in the least.”

  “I was,” he grouses, then pulls me into his arms. “The problem is I had you in my bed for only one night and that wasn’t enough for me.”

  “That was a first for me as
well,” I admit.

  “I like hearing that.” He kisses the top of my head and lets me go. “Grandmother Walker is waiting on you. She has more stories to tell you about the dead people in our family.”

  I laugh. “I’m sure I’ll enjoy each one.”

  “Don’t enjoy yourself too much, because I plan to kidnap you as soon as we’re done.”

  “What about the charity polo match?”

  “I came to an understanding with my parents. In exchange for not going today and a sizable donation, I promised them dinner with just the two of us. Even got Peter to go along with my plans for you.” He looks so pleased with himself that I can’t help but look forward to whatever it is he’s got up his sleeve.

  “I would love to have dinner with your parents, but what in the world did you promise Peter in order to go along with your plans for me?” I ask as we move from my bedroom to the hallway and then down the stairs.

  “My firstborn.” He grins. “I promised to keep our mode of transportation in site at all times. Had to show him I knew how to use a Glock correctly, too. He made me shoot at targets this morning.”

  “That was you?”

  “Yeah. Briggs came with us and wouldn’t shut up. Even Peter felt sorry for me.”

  I laugh. “You probably would have had an easier time if you’d asked to learn the traditional fight stance of the Isle instead.”

  “First, I did what I had to in order to make it possible for us to be alone. Second, what’s the traditional fighting stance of your country?” He truly looks curious.

  “Ymladd Iscuitt. Loosely translated it means ‘fighting shield’ or ‘shoulder,’ depending on who you ask. I could teach you a few moves.” Very few because I found my strength in only three of all eighty moves.

  He raises his brows. “You know how to fight?”

  I nod. “Every Sinclair is required to learn. Beaumont taught us, and I still spar with Peter. Admittedly, it’s been a while with all the travel and distractions.”

  “You can show me once we get to where we’re going.”

  I grab his hand as our feet touch the bottom step. “My sister and I were cross with each other before you came in. I…I hate it when we fight over silly things. Not even my offer to be queen instead of her didn’t help,” I blurt and nearly sink into the floor. Why would I share that with him?