I hate having so much time to reflect.
“Lord, Char. It’s been nearly a month and you’re still moping around,” she says, plopping down beside me. “Let’s go out tonight.”
“That wouldn’t make me feel any better.” I glance pointedly at the glass of ginger ale and the uneaten stack of crackers. “Besides, I can’t drink.”
She leans over, placing her ear on my tummy. “What did you say? Your mother should stop being a twatwaffle and come play with her twinnie?” She gazes up at me. “The baby is very smart, despite the genetics infecting it from the father’s side.”
With a playful shove, I push her away. “Don’t talk to him or her that way.”
“Oh please, the books says that ears don’t even start to develop until nine weeks.” Her eyes widen. “That’s not far off at all.”
“No, no it’s not,” I reply softly.
After I missed my period, Gen summoned the royal doctor, persuading her that silence is golden when it comes to our medical needs. By persuade, I mean threaten with banishment, punishment, and I’m quite sure a beheading would have been mentioned as well if I hadn’t intervened.
When the blood test came back positive, Gen was the one to throw up first. I didn’t start getting afternoon sickness until two days ago. I don’t know if I should be happy that I don’t start my day with my head in the toilet, or consult the book again about morning sickness to make sure everything is progressing like it should.
“I promise to feed you first.”
I start to tell her no again, but my stomach rumbles. “All right. I’ll go out with you, but it has to be low-key and no press. No nightclubs or grand openings.”
“Might as well sit at home and eat in the family dining room,” Gen mutters, then winks. “Dinner’s already waiting for you there. A healthy, delicious dinner.”
With a smile, I set my laptop to one side and swing my legs over the side of the bed. It’s so tall that I have to hop down.
“You should really fix your hair first,” Gen says. “Oh, and consider some light makeup. Blush for your cheeks so you don’t look like you’ve been hibernating in the middle of July.”
“It’s just us. I don’t think Peter or Devereaux will care if my cheeks are pale.” But I brush my hair anyway, my thoughts going back to Brooks. His birthday wasn’t that long ago and I wonder if he celebrated it alone or with his family. Did they ask about me?
Or has he moved on? Found another woman to spend time with, make love to, and— I shake my head, trying to clear my head like an Etch A Sketch.
If only I could start over with a blank slate, without the memories of his kiss.
His hands.
His humor.
The way he cared for me.
His body…his sexy, fantastically fit body. A body I spent hours exploring and making mine. From his strong neck, to his broad shoulders and muscular back. I loved gripping his biceps when he moved above me, loved to watch his ripped abs contract when I touched him. When I licked him lower still and put his long, thick erection in my mouth. When he used his mouth to make me come.
And when he would put his cock inside me, rock his hips until he could slide so deep that I—
A small moan escapes me.
“Did you say something?” Gen calls out.
I blush. “Nope. Just caught the brush in a tangle.”
“You could always cut it.”
“I like having long hair. It’s tradition.”
She flips back a portion of her sensible, shoulder length hair. “Traditions are meant to be broken.”
“If you’re so keen on breaking traditions, then why don’t you marry your equal and let him run the country,” I suggest, all flippant and irritated that she simultaneously interrupted my erotic memories of Brooks and insulted the one way I honor our mother’s memory.
Gen pops her head inside my bathroom. “As soon as I find my equal, I’ll be sure to do that.” She gives me a pointed look. “Lip gloss and let’s go.”
I snatch the pot of lip balm from the counter and run it along my lips. Actually, it feels rather good. My lips had been chapped from brushing my teeth more often than usual. “All done.”
We move to the door and Gen pushes it open. Devereaux waits for us outside, as he always does.
“How are you today?” I ask, trying to lead the conversation so Gen can’t.
“He’s like he always is. Preventing me from having a good time with my dates.” Gen links her arm through mine. “Since my date is with my sister, you can assume that I won’t be trying to sneak out with her.”
“Good to know.” He follows us anyway, making Gen nearly growl.
“You should attempt to be nicer to him,” I whisper. “He is willing to take a bullet for you.”
“I guess you’re right,” Gen replies. “He did take one last week, when some nut attempted to assassinate me.”
I stumble in the middle of the hallway. “What? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“That there are crazy people in the world with hearts filled with hate. I thought everyone knew that.”
“Did you know that?” I ask Devereaux and then shake my head. “I mean, did you know that some nut wanted to assassinate her?”
“We get threats all the time, Princess. Comes with the territory,” he says plainly. Well, at least he doesn’t mince words or try to hide the truth from us. “And he wasn’t a nut. He was of sound mind and he was protesting a return to the monarchy.”
“I didn’t mean nut in the insulting sense, I mean nut in that he genuinely thought by killing me that it would somehow stop the monarchy,” Gen says defensively. “If he needed mental health, we would have provided it.”
“Shouldn’t you come home? It has to be safer in—”
“It happens everywhere,” Devereaux says. “At least here, we can control who comes on and off the Isle.”
“Why hasn’t anyone bothered to tell me this before?”
“Because you’re not a target, like she is,” Devereaux explains. “The threat to you is marginal. Peter does an excellent job and there hasn’t been an incident in at least, what—”
Gen clears her throat. “Ever. Because no one would want to hurt the sweetest, kindest princess to ever have lived. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“You are both full of shit,” I say, jerking my arm away from Gen. “I can’t believe how everything is hidden from me. No one told me about the deal with Silicon Valley. No one has ever let me in on the fact that we have enemies who want to kill us. It’s like y’all think I can’t handle it.”
“Oh Lord. She used y’all,” Gen whispers. “Don’t be mad, Char.”
“Don’t be mad?” I all but stamp my foot against the flagstones in the hallway. “I’m a grown woman, not some child meant to be coddled and kept in a tower, only brought out for charity events or when everyone suddenly remembers I exist.”
“That bastard ruined my sister,” Gen says, trying to catch my hand. “Darling, why don’t you return to your room, and I’ll personally serve you.”
“Stop it.” I pull away and shove open the doors to the dining room, heedless of who’s already sitting inside. “Treat me with respect, treat me like a woman who will be the mother to your heir if it’s a girl, and stop keeping things from me. How can I be expected to do my duty and be a member of this family, much less your court, if I’m kept in the dark? I hate the dark, Gen, you know it.”
Gen starts to shake her head, motioning for me to be quiet, but I won’t be stopped.
“And stop bloody insulting my baby’s father. I won’t have it.” Closing my eyes tight for a moment, I shake my head. “I mean I will have it, but I won’t have your insults. Understand?”
Tight-lipped, Gen nods; her eyes round. “Perhaps you’ll allow me to let you in on who our guests are for tonight? I thought the surprise would cheer you up.”
“Oh dear Lord,” I whisper. “He’s here, isn’t he?”
She shakes her head and my heart sinks. “No, but our brothers are and they heard every word you said.”
As I turn around, Colin scrapes his chair back from the table and very clearly says, “I’m going to kill him. I’ll have to fly back to get him first, but come hell or high water, I will drag his ass back here, make him apologize, and then kill him.”
Theo stares at me, his face ashen. “You won’t have to go that far.”
“Why?” I ask faintly, my gaze darting around the room.
“Because he’s on his way here right now.”
My mouth drops open.
Colin glares at Theo. “Tell me you didn’t know about this.”
“Had no idea. He emailed me, wanted a family meeting with us all to discuss Davies but was waylaid by a family emergency.”
My hand covers my mouth. “Is he okay? Brooks, that is, not Davies. I wish him to rot.”
Theo nods. “He’s fine. His brother had surgery, and a full recovery is expected. Waterskiing accident.” My brother sounds like a robot, repeating information in a monotone voice.
I blow out the breath I’d sucked in as soon as he mentioned the word surgery. “Thank God.”
“Sit down,” Colin says and I hurry to my seat. “When were you planning on telling us?”
“When she felt like it,” Gen says, taking the one beside mine instead of at the head of the table.
“Stay out of this, Gen,” Colin throws back.
“Can’t do that. She’s my sister.”
“She’s mine as well.”
Gen’s jaw works. “I’m her twin, so I think the connection is a bit closer, don’t you?”
Colin raises his voice, then Gen raises hers. Theo starts whistling and I can hear our bodyguards talking to one another, so used to the insanity that is our family.
“Stop arguing,” I shout over the low roar of voices, and they quiet. “I love and feel equally close to you all.”
Theo clears his throat.
“Yes, Theo, I secretly love you the best because you never ratted me out to Colin when you caught me posting on Instagram and Facebook.”
Colin shoots Theo a murderous look. “Great, Theo. Bloody great.”
“That’s not what she was supposed to say.”
“Then don’t clear your throat when I’m in the middle of speaking,” I point out in my sweetest voice.
“Is the baby always going to make you sound like Gen?”
“The baby is bloody brilliant,” Gen shoots back.
“Damn it, we need to discuss what to do with Charlotte.” Colin rakes a hand through his hair.
“Then ask her. She’s right here,” I say, pointing to myself and then throwing my hands up in frustration. “I’m right here. I know how to talk and process thoughts in order to form words that will tell you to shove it if you don’t stop talking around me.”
“I quite like this side of you,” Gen says proudly, as if she’s responsible.
“Do be quiet.” Her mouth falls open, but I don’t care. I know where this will lead—where it will always lead with our family—and I have no desire to repeat it tonight. “None of you get to decide by committee or individually what will happen with me or my baby. Are we clear?”
They nod in unison and I think, The Wallflower is no more.
“I have a question.”
I start in my chair, my head turning and my heart beating out his name. Meanwhile, my brain is telling me, Leave, flee, and don’t look anywhere in his vicinity. But it’s no use and I can’t help but drink him in. He’s so bloody fine in his pressed suit and messy hair. His blue eyes fairly blaze as he takes us all in and his mouth, his wonderfully sexy mouth, is set in thin lines.
I honestly don’t understand how he can be so furious. I wasn’t the one to deceive him. I wasn’t the one to keep an entire file on his family.
Yet in the time we’ve been apart, he hasn’t posted one thing about me. Not one. It’s as if we never existed. I should be happy for that, but all I feel is sadness.
Anger.
Joy at seeing him again.
I’m such a mess.
“And that would be?” Colin asks, the anger in his voice plain.
Brooks pins me with the weight of his gaze. “Do I get a say in what happens with you or our baby?”
Instead of answering him like an adult, like the very thing I’ve been going on about being treated as one, I calmly push my chair back and bolt for the nearest door, away from Brooks.
Only it’s locked and I keep pushing until I simply can’t anymore. My hands shake, as do my knees.
The familiar warmth of his body and his cologne engulf me. “I think you have to pull, not push, Princess.” He gently grabs my arm and desire sparks, catches fire, and nearly consumes me.
We step back together as he opens the door. I steal a glance at him. “Will you…will you escort me to my room?”
“I don’t think—”
“Hush, Colin. Sit down, Theo,” Gen commands. “Charlotte has the right to put him in the dungeon herself.”
A nervous giggle leaves me. “I won’t put you there.”
“If it meant that I could be close to you, I’d willingly go.”
“You would?”
“Yeah.” His face turns serious and his eyes start to blaze. “As soon as we discuss our future.”
“Right this way.” I point. “It’s just two floors up and then the second door on the left.”
“I haven’t slept for twenty-four hours; I’m hungry and I want to fuck you in the closest bed,” he says softly. “You tell me the order it’s going to happen in because it’s going to happen.”
“I have crackers in my room…and a bed.”
He smiles grimly. “Good enough for me.”
Chapter 20
Brooks
With every step closer to Charlotte’s room, I have to fight the urge to say fuck it and walk out on her. Not because I plan on abandoning her but because she lied to me.
I need air.
I need space.
But most of all, I need to be inside Charlotte.
I crave her body, crave the sounds she makes when I’m thrusting into her, crave the sweet taste of her lips and pussy.
“Every day without you has been hell,” I tell her as we climb the second set of stairs. I keep my hand firmly on her arm so she doesn’t slip or fall.
God knows these damn floors are polished so slick that a sticker couldn’t adhere to the finish. Hell, even the flagstones are polished to a glossy shine.
“If you hadn’t lied, then every day would have been heaven with me,” she points out in that fucking adorable prim voice I love.
“I don’t think you have a moral ground to stand on, Princess.” I come to the second door, just like she said, and push. It gives easily and I let go of Charlotte, watching the sway of her hips as she walks inside. Her ass in the dress she wears clings to her curves. Long, dark curls hang down to her small waist, brushing the top of her ass and making my dick jump.
Bumping the door with the back of my foot, I wait for it to close before I lock it. I know Peter isn’t far behind and I know that he most likely has a key.
“Tell Peter that everything is okay,” I order.
Turning to face me, her lips part. Perfect pink lips that I have to bite, kiss, and tease. I thought I had it bad before, but to be deprived of her and then see her like this, in her room with a bed so close by…the southern gentleman is gone, long gone.
“We’re getting things sorted, Peter. No need to be on standby,” she calls out, then lowers her voice. “That should do it, but I can’t help if he stays.”
“Are there monitors in your room?” I ask.
She shakes her head, sending a thick length of hair cascading over her shoulder and caressing her breast.
I swallow hard, my hands flexing.
“They’re only triggered by a break-in, not by my simply walking into the room.”
“No breaking furniture, got it
.”
She smiles a little, then abruptly turns away and walks to a bedside table. “Your crackers. I have those and a fresh soda.”
“I’m not hungry for that right now.”
She turns slightly, her profile is to me and my gaze runs down to her stomach, where it’s still flat. “I suppose you want to sleep then.” Her hands go to her neck. She rubs it, and makes her back arch, putting her tits on display. Those are definitely bigger. I can practically see the outline of her nipples. Those are bigger, too.
“Eventually.” I move close to the bed, sitting down on the edge and putting my hands on her waist, pulling her to me. “Let me help you.”
She turns, presenting her back to me, and I slowly urge the zipper on her dress down, taking my time, letting the back of my hand touch her soft skin.
Goosebumps appear in my wake and she shivers visibly. “Cold, Princess?” I ask, knowing damn well she’s not.
“No.”
The dress drops to the floor and I press my lips against the small indentation of her back, right above her heart-shaped ass. She moans at the contact and tries to turn, but I hold her firmly in place, her hands at her sides imprisoned at the wrists.
I kiss my way up her spine, licking and tracking each vertebra with my tongue until I touch the back of her neck. I bite at the side, sink my teeth in the tender flesh, unbuttoning her bra and letting it fall to the floor before I glide my hands around her, pausing at her belly and resting there for a moment.
Her hands cover mine and I swear that in that moment I want to compose words that convey everything I’m feeling—anger, hate, love, lust, desire…and joy.
But they’re out of reach, resting on the edge of my brain and refusing to budge.
I flex my fingers, making her hands fall again to her sides while I follow the lines of her body, the path that leads me to the most perfect breasts I’ve ever touched, kissed, and sucked.
I make her sit in my lap, turning her slightly so I have access to every part of her body. She tries to kiss me again, but I turn my face away, denying both of us the satisfaction.
“Brooks,” she whispers, her fingers tangling in my hair. “I want to kiss you.”
Royal Affair Page 18