“First things first, Princess. Undress me.”
I don’t make it easy on her. I don’t help her and I don’t move unless she asks as she takes off my jacket. Yeah, I’m being a first-rate arsehole, as Charlotte says, but she doesn’t seem to mind.
She rises up on her knees, her fingers at my throat, loosening my tie and then unbuttoning every single button of my shirt. She slides her hand under the material, touching my chest and humming softly under her breath. I watch her intently, memorizing the beautiful planes of her face, the way her lashes cast shadows on the tops of her cheeks.
A soft puff of air makes my skin tingle.
“Like what you feel?”
“Very much so.” She pushes my shirt off my chest and, just like the first time, I have to help her with the cuff links. Only I do it without her asking, unlike when we first started.
Once they’re gone, she presses her soft, firm breasts against my back and lets her hands roam over me, until she gets to the fly on my pants. With a flick her wrist, she has them unbuttoned and unzipped before I can blink.
“You’re very good.”
“I was tutored by the best,” she murmurs in my ear.
Gritting my teeth, I toe off my shoes, remove my socks, and all but throw my damn pants across the room. My erection, freed from its confines, rises up, precum beading at the tip.
“Lie down on the bed.” As soon as she moves, I turn and crawl up her body, tearing at her panties along the way. “I’ll buy you another pair.”
Her pretty hazel eyes widen; then that familiar glow of emotion reappears, making my gut clench. I want her so bad that my hands shake, and I show her.
She has to know.
“Look what you do to me.”
She spreads her legs. “Feel what you do to me.”
I grab my cock, rubbing it up and down her wet pussy and making her gasp before I guide the head inside her. She’s so fucking tight, just like the first time we made love, that my head feels like it’s going to blow off before I get all the way in.
Her fingers dig into my biceps, her back arching as her thighs widen more. I’m acutely aware of everything. Her soft legs wrapping around my thighs, the rosy tips of her breasts, how swollen her nipples are…how sliding inside her is like coming home.
Another thrust of my hips and I’m balls deep. Her inner muscles clench me tight, as if they’re ready to start milking me to orgasm. She’s like sunlight in my arms, light liquid heat that I have to immerse myself in or die trying.
“Don’t move, sweetheart. Don’t fucking move,” I order.
She nods. “I won’t.”
But then she tips up her chin, her mouth brushing gently across mine, and I attack her lips like an animal, shoving and thrusting my tongue inside. Desperate to taste her, desperate for her to taste me.
My hips shoot forward and I groan right into her mouth. She lifts her hips, meeting each thrust.
But she’s not there, not yet.
I need her with me.
With my free hand, I grab one of her breasts, sucking on a nipple until she starts rippling around my cock. She’s so fucking sensitive that I’m almost one hundred percent sure I could make her come like this.
I angle my hips slightly, pressing down so that each slide of skin hits her clit. She cries out my name.
“That’s it. I found the sweet spot, didn’t I, Princess.”
“Yes. Oh, do that again, yes.”
“Say you love me.”
I half think she’s going to fight me but her pretty eyes fix on mine as she says, “I love you.”
With a growl, I quicken my pace, making sure to press down on the upstroke, exactly the way she likes it, until her thighs tremble, her nails rake across my shoulders, and her head falls back, mouth opening wide to scream my name.
But I don’t get to celebrate for long because as soon as she starts to come, my own orgasm rushes up from the base of my spine. I mold her tightly to me, coming so hard that my eyes water and the sensation of falling makes me gasp her name.
When I come down from my high, I focus on her. “Why did you lie to me about the baby?”
She stiffens in my arms. “I didn’t lie to you.”
“Don’t,” I say, and she scowls at me. “I mean, don’t wriggle around so much. We’ll make a mess of your covers.”
“Oh dear.” Her cheeks pinken and I kiss the tip of her nose. “I honestly have no idea why you think I lied to you. Yes, I’m pregnant, but since I haven’t heard a word from you, I assumed you moved on and that any day now, you’d publish our secret. My secret.”
Moved on? Is she insane? “I got a text from you, three weeks ago, saying that you’re not pregnant.”
Her eyes narrow. “I did not send that. Three and a half weeks ago, Gen removed you from my contacts but said that if you were to contact me, I could make the decision as to whether or not I wanted to forgive you, or worse.”
What’s worse than forgiving me? “Does your sister like to call people darling?”
“When she wants to be sweet…or annoy them, yes.” She looks up at me. “You’re not implying…she wouldn’t do that.”
I roll to one side, afraid that my weight might hurt the baby. “If you promise not to run, I’ll get us cleaned up and let you read the text exchange for yourself.”
Biting her lip, she nods. “I promise to stay.”
“Good.” Sliding out of her warmth, I stalk to the bathroom and get cleaned up before grabbing some towels for her. But by the time I get back, my princess is asleep, her mouth slightly parted.
I clean her up as best I can without waking her, then tuck her under the covers before cutting off the lights and joining her. Wrapping my arms around her sweetly curved body, I kiss the back of her neck and finally, after seventeen days without her, go to sleep.
—
I wake up to an empty bed, but it’s full of her familiar scent. Burying my face into her pillow, I breathe it in and mentally prepare myself for today.
First up, shower, shave, and breakfast followed by avoiding getting shot or hanged…or whatever it is royals do these days to assholes who knock up their sister.
Rolling over, I’m shocked to find my suitcase sitting on a bench at the end of her bed. I scan the room, searching for Charlotte, and find a small table with a plate covered by a dome instead. Either side is flanked with glasses of juice and water. There’s even a carafe of coffee.
Even though there’s a place setting for only one, I have to take this as a good sign. Like she promised, she didn’t run. However, I have no idea if she got around to reading the texts from her to me.
Determined to clear the air between us as soon as possible, I shower, shave, dress, and eat in record time. Gathering up my laptop, phone, and wallet, I step outside her room and stand there for a second or two, my body on alert. When no one drops me from above or shoots a dart into my neck, I make my way downstairs to the first floor.
Along the way, I pass huge paintings, a multitude of staff going about their business, and wide windows with a view of the city below as well as the sea. Small boats bob in the waves, fishermen cast their nets, and cars travel up and down the winding roads.
“Ah, you’re up and still alive. Brilliant,” Theo says, grabbing my shoulder. “Let’s go this way, so you stay in that condition.”
“Colin set a trap for me?” I joke.
“More like a firing squad as soon as you attempted to leave.”
Okay, so that’s how it’s going to be. “You do realize that I’m only carrying my laptop and phone, not any luggage.”
“People tend to carry around what they value the most.”
“Too bad Charlotte’s not here. I’d carry her back home with me.”
Theo stops, pinning a light blue gaze on my face. “I want to believe that you’re an honorable sort. The expression on your face last night proved that you had no idea about Charlotte’s predicament.”
“It’s not a predicament,” I say,
irritated by everyone who thinks our baby is a problem to be solved.
“Most men would run in the opposite direction.”
“I’m not most men. I don’t run, and I sure as hell don’t leave a woman because my brain can’t handle what my dick did.” Crude but true. Besides, this is her brother and I don’t think he’ll be offended. Okay, so this is the most easygoing of her brothers and I don’t think he’ll chop my dick off.
“Are you certain it’s not for a title?” he asks, resuming our walk to God only knows where.
“You do know who I am and what I do for a living, right?”
“I’m an avid reader of your work.” He pushes a stone in the wall, and an entire painting slides to one side. “But you still haven’t answered my question.”
Yeah, the easygoing-brother act is just that, an act. “I don’t want your sister to get a title or money. I asked her to marry me before…well, before, and she turned me down.”
“I take it you didn’t ask in a very romantic way.”
I rake my hand through my hair. “No, I told her to marry me so she could be free.”
He gives me a you are an idiot look, but I’ll take that over a we’re going to hang you by your balls look any day of the week. “I can’t imagine why she said no. The nerve.” He indicates I should step through the portal to death, for all I know.
“After you. I’m not familiar with the place.”
“Very well.” He cocks a brow at me, his lips thinning. “Welcome to my office. We won’t be disturbed here.”
Light suddenly fills my vision as he opens some curtains. The room is circular, made entirely of stone and dominated by a large fireplace with rough-hewn beams as a mantel. A portrait of some long-ago queen hangs above it.
In the center is a desk with a chair on either side. It’s enormous, taking up almost the entire space.
“Get comfortable, Mr. Walker.” Theo walks around the desk and sits down in his chair, steepling his fingers. “Honestly, I’m quite surprised you chose to email me instead of forwarding your draft to Davies.”
I sit down, lean forward, and open my laptop, spinning it around so he can go over the contents. Yeah, the hard copies would be more impressive, but I don’t trust anyone at this point.
Well, anyone besides Charlotte.
“I did send a draft to him on the flight over, but it’s not the one I sent to you,” I admit in all honesty, and give him the details of the lawsuit against Walker Media. “He’s running my business to the ground, I have employees who need to support their families…and I need to buy some time, until I figure out what he’s got on my investors.”
“What makes you think he won’t publish what you sent?” Theo asks.
“He’s had this information for decades and even after he lost his job as prime minister, he still didn’t publish it. So…my hunch is something’s forged or he had a hand in switching the princesses.”
“That’s my thinking as well.”
“I’m hoping that you can use your connections with Silicon Valley to dig deeper, find out the reason why. He also mentioned that everything in the envelope he gave me is recorded in the royal library.”
Theo chuckles, then looks at me over the top of the screen. “How convenient for him, then, that the royal library burned to the ground four years ago.”
“Fuck.” I sit back heavily in the chair. “How in the hell can I help Charlotte if there isn’t any record of that asshole being at her birth?”
“Tell you what. I’ll contact some friends of mine to see what they can find out.” He rubs the side of his jaw as he scans the screen. “I had no idea any of this existed, no idea at all that Charlotte is the rightful queen.”
“Charlotte and Imogene did.”
Theo freezes. “They knew?”
I nod. “The note Charlotte left me all but said it. She wasn’t shocked about what I learned. She accused me of knowing all along and playing her.”
“Well, that changes everything. I think a family meeting is in order.” Theo smiles widely. “Over dinner, of course. We Sinclairs do love a good dinner show.”
“And for the grand finale, your brother can poison my dessert.”
“Don’t be stupid.” I start to apologize, but then he continues. “He’d stab you first.”
“Tremendous.” I smile and nod. “Looking forward to my last meal.”
“In the meantime, Charlotte is outside in her private garden, should you want to talk to her…with her clothes on.”
I’m out of my chair like a shot.
“Don’t you need directions?” he calls out.
“I can figure it out on my own.” Besides, I’m sure he’d fuck with me and send me to the dungeons instead.
Chapter 21
Charlotte
Only a fool in love will fall right back in bed with the man set on betraying her.
Allow him to touch her.
Command her.
Say you love me.
I love you.
My only consolation to my pride is that I woke up before he did and left my room, but I also had breakfast sent up.
Such. A. Fool.
I sit down on the bench next to the small ornamental pond I had created to look exactly like the one in St. Claire. The heady perfume of flowers fill the air, goldfish swim happily under lily pads, and butterflies gracefully land on petals.
The perfect setting for me to reflect on what my punishment should be for falling, once again, for a man who only wanted what my title could bring him. It’s worse this time, because I love Brooks. Love him so much that my heart aches. Being pregnant with his child makes me happy and weepy.
“Get up, Princess Charlotte.” Something cold presses to the back of my neck and my heart slams against my chest. Adrenaline shoots through my body, but I don’t move.
I don’t call for Peter’s help, either.
Instead I count to five, visualizing every move I will make, even down to the final one where I will stand, triumphant, with one foot on my would-be assassin’s chest.
A rough hand clamps down on my shoulder, squeezing tight. “I said get up.”
I grab his hand and turn at the same time, twisting his fingers and shoving his wrist backward. He doesn’t expect me to fight back, so the element of surprise is on my side when I fling out my arm and hit him directly in the throat.
He staggers back, grasping at his neck and wheezing.
I smile.
Peter will be so proud.
Just as I prepare for move three, a roar fills the air. Brooks appears out of nowhere, launching himself at my attacker. They topple to the ground like a pile of stones, hitting hard and making dust rise.
Brooks leans back, taking a punch and landing one of his own. He flips the attacker over in a move that can only mean he knows what he’s doing, and they start fighting again. Which means that either he or Peter will get hurt very badly.
“Stop! Stop!” I run to them, grabbing Peter by the arm and trying to drag him away.
Brooks looks up at me, his lip bleeding and his shirt torn at the shoulder. He’s breathing hard. “What the fuck are you doing?”
I grab the top of Peter’s face mask and rip it off. “Practicing.”
Brooks narrows his eyes. “Trying to get killed?”
“No, this is how Peter and I practice the Ymladd Iscuitt.”
He gives me a blank look, then his eyes fill with fury, blazing at Peter and me. “You allowed her to do this while she’s pregnant?”
“I’m under her command, Mr. Walker,” Peter says. “Besides, a pregnant woman needs to be able to defend herself.”
Brooks opens his mouth and then closes it, his jaw working. I don’t think he’s ever been this furious…or, is that terror in his gaze as well? I won’t let myself be swayed by that. Won’t let myself be swayed by the fact that when he thought I was being attacked, he simply attacked back.
Tried to save me.
Tried to protect me.
My heart
flutters.
“It also helps keep me in shape.”
Brooks swings his gaze to me and Peter shakes his head.
“So does walking. Try it sometime,” Brooks snaps. He stands up, brushing off his jeans. I can’t help but notice the wince when he attempts to right his shirt, or the small limp when he starts to walk away.
“You’re hurt,” I say. “Let me help you.”
“I’m hurt because of you.” He swipes his hand over his mouth. “I can help myself.”
“Do you know how to get back to my room from here?” I ask as Peter bows and fades into the shadows.
Brooks pauses by the door leading to the inner courtyard. “Mostly.”
I rush to him, gently taking him by the arm. “Let’s try the second door, shall we? The walk back is a bit quicker than going through the middle of the palace.”
“Thanks,” he says grudgingly.
“You were very good. Peter is an expert.”
“Spent a year in Israel, trained under a master of Krav Maga.”
“What led you to do that?”
“Because after my year there, I planned to go to places where it would be beneficial.”
“Are you a danger junkie?”
He gives me a wan smile. “It’s adrenaline junkie, and not really. I thought it would legitimize my work.”
“And that’s very important to you.”
He doesn’t answer me because the answer is obvious. His work is the most important thing in his life. It is his entire life.
“Is that why you had all that information on my sister and me, on the rest of my siblings as well?”
“Yes and no.”
I frown. “It can’t be both.”
“Based on your very general question, yes it can.”
“Then teach me what to ask, Mr. Walker.”
We enter my room and he breaks away from me. He all but rips off his shirt, treating me to the sight of his ripped abs and broad shoulders. Dark bruises are blooming under his skin in the shape of Peter-size fists.
“You poor thing,” I croon at him, forgetting the reasons why I should stop being foolish and continue to question him.
He pushes me away. Gently, but it’s still a push all the same.
I stagger back. “I only want to help.”
Royal Affair Page 19