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Wrong Prince: An Accidental Pregnancy Romance (Royally Unexpected Book 6)

Page 4

by Lilian Monroe


  Another wave tips the boat and I’m able to catch myself on the railing. I cage Cara’s body underneath mine before she can slip farther away, straining against the movement of the ocean as our boat is thrown around by the might of the storm.

  Captain Withers yells something, finally getting the murderous boom under control. He locks it in place, leaning against the mast to catch his breath. The other crew member wraps the final bit of the sail around the boom and secures it with ropes.

  I suck in a deep breath, dropping my eyes to Cara’s face. The terror in her eyes ices my veins. She puts her hands on my chest, shaking her head.

  “That was scary.”

  “Yeah.” I’m panting, my chest pressed against Cara’s.

  I can’t deny that her body feels good under mine. My knee scrapes against the rough, non-slip surface of the boat’s deck, but I don’t mind the pain. It barely registers on my radar as adrenaline still dumps into my veins. Gulping down breaths, I slowly let my muscles relax and I loosen my hold on the railing post beside us.

  Cara’s hand drifts up to my jaw, and she shakes her head. “That scared me, Theo. I thought you were going overboard.”

  I don’t know what to answer. The yacht rocks underneath us, but I can mostly ignore it now. Another wave crashes on the edge of the boat, soaking us with cold water. It almost sizzles on my heated skin.

  Cara’s eyes shine as she shakes her head from side to side, sucking her bottom lip between her teeth. My eyes follow the movement, and the adrenaline inside me starts changing to something else. Something hotter. More forbidden.

  Desire.

  I can feel her heart thumping. Her body pinned beneath mine. Her curves molded into my body. Her hands on my face.

  “Sorry for tackling you,” she whispers.

  “You saved my life.”

  Cara’s lips drop open to answer, but the storm steals her words away. The boat rocks and my arm slips. I collapse on top of Cara, my head buried in her neck.

  Is it wrong that even though there’s a storm raging around us, even though I almost died, even though I should be worried about getting inside and staying safe, the only thing I can think about is how good Cara Shoal smells?

  “You two okay over there?” the captain calls out, slinging some ropes over a hook on the deck of the boat. I lift my head to look at him, giving him a weak smile and a thumbs up.

  Before I can say anything, though, the ocean throws us another monstrous wave. Even the captain is thrown to the side, stumbling over his feet.

  I’m not prepared for it.

  I roll off Cara toward the edge of the boat. The railing has a huge gap in it, big enough for me to slip through—and that’s exactly what I do.

  With the violent swell of the waves, the wind whipping around, and the water soaking the deck, I don’t stand a chance. I shout, my body sliding through the opening as waves crash below.

  I’m dropping straight into the stormy ocean.

  I’m going to drown. I already know it.

  The last thing I’ll see is the terror on Cara’s face as I slip away from her, my arms flailing as I try in vain to grab onto one of the slippery metal railings.

  Cara screams, the sound piercing my heart like an arrow. Her nails dig into my skin as my arms slip away from her, my legs already falling off the edge of the yacht.

  “No!” she shouts, the sound ripped from her throat. I can hear the desperation in her scream. Adrenaline spikes my veins as fear pierces my stomach.

  It’s too late.

  I’m going to die.

  I’m going overboard, and the storm will sweep me away. I’m already gone. The Kingdom will mourn me, and I’ll never fulfill my duty and purpose of becoming King.

  But Cara’s arm wraps around my shoulder. I hear a pop, and pain shatters through my shoulder and chest. Agony rips through me as a scream tears through my throat. A thousand daggers stab at my shoulder as the muscles and tendons stretch and tear.

  Pain is too kind a word for what’s happening in my body. Agony is too gentle. My legs swing as Cara holds onto my injured shoulder, causing another wave of pain to smash into me. Nausea roils in my stomach as my shoulder screams and throbs.

  But I’m not in the water.

  I’m not drowning.

  With my free arm, I’m able to cling onto the railing post. Cara’s whimpering in pain, her arms wrapped around me as her nails dig into my skin. She shouts, wrapping her body around another post as she struggles to pull me up.

  Pain rockets through my shoulder. I scream.

  My grip on the railing weakens, and I slip a fraction of an inch. Cara cries out again, tightening her hold on my injured shoulder.

  “Theo,” she screams, yelling into the wind.

  Then, another set of hands. Rough, sea-hardened hands. Captain Withers pulls me onto the deck, dragging me halfway across its rough surface until the three of us collapse on the floor. Cara crawls over to me as I clutch my dislocated shoulder.

  “Get the fuck inside,” the captain snaps, dragging himself up to his feet. He looks at my shoulder, registering the injury, but doesn’t change his command. “Go.”

  Captain Withers helps Cara up as I struggle to my feet, finally listening to his instruction. As soon as we duck inside, I see the captain head toward the navigation center on top of the ship’s deck to point the vessel into the waves. As the yacht turns into the waves, the rocking lessens and I’m able to make my way below deck.

  We’re too far away from shore to make it back, so we’ll have to survive the storm out in the open ocean.

  As soon as the warmth of the interior hits me, my legs feel like jelly. I lean against the wall, forgetting that my arm is hanging unnaturally from my shoulder. Agony spears through me. I grimace.

  Cara puts her arm around my waist and leads me to the back, where Alfred is cleaning up the remains of our uneaten breakfasts. His eyes widen when he sees us, his gaze dropping to my injured shoulder.

  “Your Highness…”

  “I think it’s dislocated,” I grunt.

  Cara makes a noise, tears filling her eyes. Her lip trembles, but I don’t have time to say anything before the chef sits me down.

  “This is going to hurt,” he warns. Grabbing a wooden spoon from a drawer, he hands it to me and motions to my mouth. “Bite down.”

  My head is cloudy. I can’t think straight. I don’t understand what he’s telling me, but I do what he says anyway. I put the wooden spoon between my teeth as Cara shields her eyes.

  Alfred braces himself against the bench and yanks my arm back into place. It pops back into my shoulder joint with an uncomfortable snap, and for a brief second, I feel like I’m back to normal.

  Then, the pain hits.

  A wave of nausea rises inside me as a yell is ripped from my throat. The wooden spoon clatters to the floor as I grip my shoulder, agony making my eyes water. Tears stream down my cheeks as I inhale, clutching my weakened arm to my chest.

  I can’t think about anything but the pain. Chef Alfred opens one of the cupboards, bracing himself against the movement of the ship. The sea is rough, even with the captain doing his best to weather the storm.

  The chef pulls out a first aid kit and removes a sling, fitting it around my shoulder. Then, he cracks an ice pack open and nods to Cara.

  “Hold that on his shoulder. I’ll get you some pain meds.”

  Cara sits down beside me, her eyes full of tears as she holds the ice pack to my shoulder. I close my eyes, leaning my head against the back of the cushioned bench as I suck in a breath.

  Cara’s floral, sweet scent filters through to me, clearing some of the pain from my head.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispers.

  I manage to crack open my eyelids and glance at her. “For what?”

  “For doing this to you.”

  I grimace through the pain in my shoulder, forcing a chuckle. Shaking my head, I lift my good arm up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

  “T
hat’s twice you’ve saved me,” I answer, staring into her deep, brown eyes. “First the boom, then going overboard.”

  “And dislocated your shoulder in the process.”

  “I’ll forgive that in exchange for my life.” A tired smile stretches over my lips. Cara strokes my cheek, her touch easing some of my pain.

  Exhaustion starts to settle into my bones. The adrenaline is wearing off, and I barely have the strength to open my eyes when my chef-turned-medic hands me a few pain pills.

  “Off to bed,” he commands.

  I’m not used to being ordered around by my own staff, but I’m not in any position to argue.

  Cara helps me to my feet, wrapping her arm around my waist to help lead me to the royal cabin where I spent the last night dreaming of her.

  She fluffs my pillows and supports me as I lie down, smoothing the blankets over me. Deep frown lines are etched into her face.

  When she stands up to leave, I catch her hand to stop her.

  “Stay.” My voice is gruff. I know I have no right to ask that of her, but I can’t stop myself. I don’t want her to leave.

  Cara’s eyes widen. In the low light of the cabin, her brown hair throws off deep coppery glints, and I long to wrap my fingers around it. She sucks her lip between her teeth again, and heat floods through my core.

  I beg her with my eyes. I need her here. I can’t stay stuck in this tiny cabin, with this boat rocking me from side to side, thinking of how I almost lost my life. I can’t stay here with nothing but my thoughts, remembering how perfect it felt to have Cara’s body underneath mine.

  Because even though I almost died, even though she saved my life twice in less than five minutes, all I can think of is how much I’ll miss her when she’s gone.

  “Please,” I say, my voice scratching against my throat. I’m not accustomed to asking. I’m not one to beg. People usually hurry to do what I want before I even know I want it.

  But I’m begging now.

  Cara inhales deeply, and finally relents. I throw the blanket up to let her crawl in beside me, and she snuggles into bed beside me.

  My heart thumps as Cara’s head rests on my good shoulder. I put my arm around her, holding her close as we both let the yacht rock us from side to side.

  She holds the ice pack to my injured shoulder, and I focus on the weight of her arm across my chest.

  My limbs feel heavy, and my eyelids droop. I hold Cara’s body next to mine, relishing this moment. She might be gone in a few days, but right now, she’s here.

  Over the next few weeks, everything will change. I’ll have more responsibilities as I step up and become King. I’ll be fulfilling the duties that I’ve been preparing to take on my entire life. There will be so much change, but I feel ready for it.

  The only thing I’m not ready to deal with is Cara leaving.

  As I drift off into exhausted sleep, the last thing I think of is how good it feels to have Cara sleeping by my side.

  CARA

  I THINK Prince Theo has a boner. I can see the bulge under the blankets when I wake up to howling wind and rough seas, but I can’t be sure. It’s dark.

  He groans, shifting his weight as he sleeps and pulling me into his chest. I walk my fingers over his pecs as my head stays nestled in the crook of his shoulder, closing my eyes for just a moment.

  I know I shouldn’t be in bed with him, and I certainly shouldn’t be enjoying it as much as this.

  It’s wrong.

  He’s only a friend. There’s Luca to think about. There are decades of history between us.

  But yesterday, we almost died. We’re all but alone on board, apart from the crew. What’s one night of platonic snuggling after an ordeal like that?

  His cock throbs, and I realize ‘platonic’ might be the wrong word. The way my heart stutters when I see the movement under the sheets tells me that my body isn’t thinking this is platonic either.

  I inhale, trying to rid my mind of my treacherous thoughts.

  Luca and I aren’t together anymore, but that doesn’t mean I should sleep with his brother. The best thing for me to do is leave Argyle and not look back. Just like I planned.

  “You’re awake,” Theo says in a low voice. I look up to see his slitted, sleepy eyes looking down at me. Theo’s arm stays wrapped around my body, his fingers tracing tiny circles over my shoulder.

  I nod. “Yeah.”

  “Storm sounds bad.”

  I nod again. My mouth is suddenly dry. Every sense is heightened. The Prince is so close. Every part of him is near me. I’ve never been pressed up against him like this. I’ve never been in bed with him like this. Never even dreamed of it.

  Never dreamed I’d like it as much as I do.

  Words stay stuck somewhere in my throat. His hand drifts up to my head, and he combs his fingers through my thick hair.

  “Thank you,” he says quietly. “You saved my life.”

  “Well, I wasn’t going to let you die out there.”

  His eyes are low. I like the way his fingers drift over my scalp, and how his heartbeat thumps against his ribcage. My own hand drifts over to his collarbone, his neck, his jaw.

  When my fingers slip up to touch his lips, the tension in the air crackles.

  It’s dark in here. Intimate.

  Anything could happen.

  I can see by the look on his face that Prince Theo isn’t opposed to something happening. All it would take is one movement from either of us. One kiss. One touch.

  We’re standing on a knife’s edge, staring at each other.

  Waiting for the other to act.

  Waiting to see if it’s worth the consequences.

  What would happen if we were together, I wonder? Would it be a one-time thing? Would it change my plans? Would it change anything?

  Or would it just be a kiss? A memory? A mistake?

  It would have to be a secret. Wouldn’t it? With everything that happened with Luca, being with me would be wholly inappropriate. Scandalous. Frowned upon. Completely out of the question.

  Theo has always been the responsible brother. The future King. He wouldn’t want anything to mark his name with scandal, especially not a salacious affair. That would be too much like his mother. He would never want to do anything like that with me.

  Right?

  The Prince shifts his weight, pulling me closer.

  “Cara,” he whispers. It sounds like my name is a healing balm to him. Like he enjoys saying it. His uninjured hand drifts from my scalp down my spine, sending shivers tumbling through my veins.

  When his palm reaches the small of my back, he presses his hand into me. I melt into his body without resistance.

  We’re both ready to jump. Consequences be damned.

  Heat rips through me at the thought of pressing my lips to his. My body begs me to lean into him, to trace his lips with my fingers, to walk my hands down to the bulge under the covers.

  It would be easy. It would feel good.

  Instead, I pull away. I tuck my chin into my chest and roll away from Prince Theo, swinging my legs off the edge of the bed.

  I hear Theo sigh behind me. He doesn’t have to say anything for me to know what the sound means.

  He wanted it too.

  “I should go back to my cabin,” I say, not daring to turn around.

  “Yeah.” His voice is gruff. It tugs at my heart, sending echoes of desire rattling through my body.

  “You need anything for your shoulder?”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  I nod, finally gathering the courage to glance back at him. Lightning flashes outside, carving out the angles in his face. Hooded, dark eyes stare back at me.

  “I hate that you’re leaving,” he says.

  My heart thuds. I gulp. “I have to. For me. For my sanity.”

  The Prince grimaces. He shifts his gaze to the dark porthole, where nothing is visible except splashes of water and a dark, stormy sky.

  “My father’s abdicating.”

>   I freeze. “What? When?”

  “Within a month.” Theo still stares out the window, and I long to reach for him.

  “So that means…”

  “I’ll be King,” he finishes.

  I curl my fingers on the edge of the bed, feeling the luxurious cotton sheets between my fingers. My mouth is dry, and I’m not sure what to say.

  “Why is he stepping down?”

  Theo swings his eyes over to me and lets out a heavy sigh. “He’s sick. Been hiding it for years now, but it’s getting worse.”

  “Sick?”

  “Parkinson’s. It’s starting to get obvious. People are talking.”

  “And he wants you to step in?”

  Theo nods. “I’ll be the first unmarried King to be crowned.”

  His words ring in my ears, and I’m not sure why. “Is that… Is that allowed?” I whisper, like I’m afraid to say it too loud.

  Theo sighs. “No. At least, I don’t think so. I’ve asked Dante to look into it and talk to lawyers about me being an unmarried King. That’s why he couldn’t come on this trip.” He glances at me. “I’m ready for it. This is what I was born to do. I’ve always known it would happen.”

  “It’s just sooner than you expected.”

  Theo nods.

  I let out a deep breath. “How do you feel about it?”

  Theo chuckles bitterly. “I could sense my father getting worse over the past few months. That’s why I wanted to do this trip one last time. I’m not sure I’ll be able to do it next year. It might be the last trip I’m able to take for myself.”

  My chest squeezes as sadness wells up inside me.

  Everything is changing. I’m leaving. Luca is already gone. Theo will be King.

  This trip isn’t just a goodbye for me—it’s a goodbye for Theo, too. We’re both moving on with our lives.

  Only Dante and Beckett are just as they were, but Dante never leaves the castle, and Beckett has always kept to himself. Secretly, I think he resents the fact that he’s only a half-brother, born of his mother’s affair. Even though the royal family pretends it doesn’t matter, everyone knows he’ll never have any official duties as a Prince.

 

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