by Ella Goode
Well, this is certainly an interesting development. I hide my smirk, but I can’t help glancing sidelong at Nic. She shoots me a discreet thumbs up.
Frederick wilts under the disapproving glare of Mr. Hou. This threat from the most powerful member of his board is finally enough to get him to listen to reason.
“Fine,” he says with a glower, “I won’t cancel the loans, but the minute he defaults, I’ll be on his broke ass.”
“I will buy the loans from you at the treasury plus three percent,” Daddy Hou says calmly.
“Treasury plus five,” Frederick counters.
“Treasury plus three and you get to keep your aristocratic title and lease to your home seat in South Ceramine,” I interject, holding up my phone. The information I’d been running down for the last day has finally come in. “Per the original terms of your land grant, you don’t own your property outright. Instead, it’s a lease, renewable at the whim of the crown.” Checkmate, motherfucker.
Hou nods. “Treasury plus three it shall be. I’ll have my people draw up the paperwork.”
Frederick has no choice but to agree. With a garbled curse, he stomps out of the room. Relief and elation cascade over me and I barely resist doing a high five with Nic. Finally, finally I’m free. Pen, I’m coming for you.
Daddy Hou nods and turns to me. I so badly want to hug him, but I refrain. I give him a serious and grateful bow. “Thank you, Mr. Hou. You have the complete gratitude of the crown. We are in your debt.”
Anson Hou stares at me for a long moment and gives me a faint smile. “I did not realize that you were the one spearheading the move to revitalize our industrial sector. I’m glad to have discovered your true depths, King Thomas. I will be doubling my investment in this refining business. Perhaps we could discuss it in greater detail over lunch today?”
A more financially independent Matlavia? I don’t just want to hug Mr. Hou, I want to kiss him now, but the meeting will have to wait. “I’d love to meet with you, but tomorrow will be the earliest I have available.” And that’s a damned sacrifice because I’d rather be in bed with Pen for the next month.
“Come on, Dad. Mom is anxious to get to Paris. Why don’t you guys meet next week?” Nic, bless her sweet heart, hustles her dad out of the room.
With the throne secured, the people of Matlavia safe, I have only one more task to complete.
“Louis!” I bellow.
Room 312.
I finger the room key card Louis had provided. The king’s privilege in Matlavia includes no door being closed to him. That’s probably not a good policy in general, but I’m grateful for it today.
I don’t think Pen would answer the door if I knocked, and I don’t blame her. This is my fault. I should’ve been open about my love for her since the beginning. Instead, I devised a stupid plot that I thought would convince everyone in Matlavia that a relationship between a palace chambermaid and the prince was entirely appropriate. In my defense, I was sixteen when I concocted this scheme, but it’s been nearly ten years. I’ve pretended for ten years that I didn’t love her. If I were in her shoes, I would’ve walked away long before the Frederick and Callista debacle.
Words won’t change her opinion. Only actions.
I flick the key in front of the door and watch the red light turn green. It’s go time.
“I’m sorry. I thought I had the do not disturb sign on,” Pen says from her perch on the window seat overlooking the grand avenue leading up to the palace gates.
“You did,” I reply.
She twists away from the window and nearly falls off the bench in surprise. “You,” she exclaims.
She’s dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a pretty blue blouse that makes her blonde locks even more golden. I can’t wait to tear all of it off of her.
“Me.” I don’t bother to shut the door behind me. I’m going to have both hands full in a moment. “You look beautiful.”
“Why are you here?” She rises to her feet.
“To take you home.” I glance around the room. The bed is untouched. Her suitcase is propped in the corner. I don’t think she’s bothered to unpack. This makes it easier for me. Louis can come and retrieve her belongings as soon as I carry her out of here. Literally.
I close the distance between us in three strides and sweep her up into my arms.
“What are you doing? Let me down.” She pushes at my hands.
I only grip her tighter. Swinging around, I walk over to the doorway. “Like I said. I’m taking you home.”
There are more than a few interested spectators loitering in the hall. Word has spread fast that I’m here. I drove my most conspicuous car, threw open the doors to the hotel lobby, and announced, “It is I, your king.”
I’d be disappointed if no one was gawking. I’d counted on gossip spreading like a hot grease fire in a dirty kitchen.
“Thom, put me down this instant,” Pen cries, wriggling like a beached fish.
“You’re causing a scene, darling.”
She freezes and looks around, noticing for the first time all the onlookers.
“Would you call for the elevator?” I ask one hat-wearing, map-carrying tourist.
The man hops to and jabs the down elevator button, one hand glued to his phone.
Pen opens and shuts her mouth a few times before realizing that anything she says is going to be recorded by the dozens of cameras pointed in our direction.
“Smile for your subjects,” I whisper in her hair.
“I’m going to kill you,” she murmurs out of the side of her mouth. “What’s the statutory punishment for regicide?”
“It’s a life punishment chained to my bed. Prepare yourself.” The bell dings and I get on.
There’s a rush to join us, but the crowd stops with a shake of my head. “If you’ll give us this ride to ourselves, I’ll be supremely grateful.”
The doors close before anyone can come to their senses.
The minute that the audience is gone, Pen starts to squirm. “You can let me down now.”
It’s a good thing I work out or I wouldn’t have been able to hang on to her. Carrying an unwilling and floundering person is no easy task. Good thing I’m up for it. “No. I’m not letting you go ever again. Look what happens if I do. You disappear from the palace.”
I tsk my tongue against the roof of my mouth. “You didn’t even get to see Frederick turn this lovely shade of purple when I told him I was going to take the Sutton seat away from him. It was quite entertaining. I think you would have enjoyed it a great deal.”
She stops moving. “You have the power to do that?”
“The king has many powers, darling. You’ll get a full demonstration of them later.”
The elevator car stops and I glide out. It’s easier now that she’s not twisting like a worm.
“I didn’t leave just because I worried about Frederick. I left because it’s not going to work out between us. The people of Matlavia won’t accept a maid as their princess, let alone their queen.”
The hotel lobby is lined with tourists. The staff of the hotel is split between staring at me striding across the floor carrying Pen and trying to keep a path open for me to walk on. I nod my head in thanks to the respectful staff. Pen keeps her face buried in my shirt, as if she thinks that if she can’t see the crowd, they can’t see her.
“I think you should give our people more credit. They want someone decent and kind on the throne next to me. They want full bellies. They want nice homes and good educations. We can give them that if we work together.”
“And if they don’t accept us?”
“They will.”
“But if they don’t?”
“They will because I am King of Matlavia, and so long as I sit on the throne, there will be only one woman who sits beside me. If they don’t want you there, then I will step down and they can pick a new royal family.”
The doors to the exterior slide open and a roar of noise hits us. Dozens, or maybe tho
usands, of camera flashes assault our eyes. I lower Pen to the ground, wrap a firm arm around her waist and hand her my sunglasses—the ones I usually wear to protect me from the glare of the cameras.
Today, however, I need to face the paparazzi full on with no disguises. I’m not the playboy prince of Matlavia. I never have been. I’ve been a man in love with a girl who I grew up with. It doesn’t matter what her pedigree is. It only matters that she loves me in return.
I wave my hand and the entire throng falls silent. “What a warm welcome from my subjects this morning. I dare say you all have questions about what I am doing and who this lovely young woman by my side is.”
A burst of questions hits me. Pen shrinks back. “Don’t back down or they’ll eat me alive,” I murmur out of the side of my mouth. Predictably, her spine stiffens.
If it had been about her, she might’ve run, but if she thinks I’m in need of help, Pen will fight down a pride of lions.
“Who is the lady and why did you carry her out of the hotel?” shouts a reporter.
“Penelope Lloyd is the woman I love. Pen and I grew up in the palace together. We fell in love when were kids and we have never strayed from each other’s hearts.” This statement is so shocking that the reporters fall silent for a moment. Then their questions come fast.
“What about your other women?”
“Who is she?”
“What does she do?”
“Is it true she’s the bastard child of a maid?”
I open my mouth to blast the last questioner, but Pen nudges me aside. “Yes, my mother was not wed at the time that she got pregnant. I was raised as a below-stairs maid and that is the position I hold today. The queen was kind enough to allow me to play with her sons when we were children and through the time we spent together, Thomas and I…” She trails off, her courage faltering.
Again, I open my mouth to step in, but Pen recovers. “I fell in love with His Majesty, and while I know our story is an improbable one, I believe together we can provide a good foundation for this country by showing that there are no barriers between people so long as we love one another.”
My heart bursts with pride and love. Unable to stop myself, I press a kiss on the top of her head. The flashes explode and more questions follow. I don’t respond to any particular one. Instead, I make my own public confession that I hope answers all of them. “There are no other women and never have been. I’ve only ever loved one girl who grew into this lovely woman. She’s not of the aristocracy, that’s true. She’s worked with her hands all of her life. Her father chose not to be part of her life. But none of these things make her unworthy to wear a crown. In fact, she is more worthy because she understands the plight of all Matlavians from the miners to the laundresses to the office workers. She understands that it is difficult to make a living in this world and she will be a steady, helpful guide in making sure that all of Matlavia has an equal seat at the table.”
There are more questions, but I can feel Pen’s energy flagging. Besides, Johan has arrived with the Royal Guard and is clearing a path to the waiting limo. As I urge Pen forward, I hear another reporter call out.
“Don’t you think this is a mistake?”
I gather Pen close to my side and face the horde of reporters and their cameras and recorders and microphones. Beyond them, I can see the anxious faces of the hotel staff and the curious looks from the tourists. I know that this interview will be played and replayed on Matlavian television and on the internet and social media for days and weeks and maybe even years to come.
“The only mistake I made was not trusting the Matlavian people in the first place. I believed, wrongly, that I needed to show them that Pen was worthy of my name, but really I needed to prove that I was worthy of her hand in mine. By coming forward and being truthful with all of you, I am taking my first steps toward showing Pen and all of Matlavia that I am a man who is true to his heart. I won’t leave you. I won’t abandon you. I will stand by your side forever.” I bring her hand to my lips and let the love in my eyes shine into hers. “That’s the kind of king I intend to be. That’s the man I intend to be.”
The crowd quiets at my impassioned words, and then a sudden cheer breaks out. It’s the hotel staff, beaming at us. The cheer is followed by clapping until everyone is clapping and cheering, including the reporters. My heart swells and I need to blink away the tears that suddenly prick my eyes. I look down at Pen. There’s a look of wonder on her face and her lips curl slowly in a trembling smile. It’s the most beautiful thing. She looks up at me and that smile turns so brilliant it dazzles more than the flashes.
Her mouth moves and although I can’t hear her over the roaring of the crowd, I know what she says.
Take me home.
Chapter Twelve
Pen
“Thom! Put me down!” I’m giggling madly as I push at his shoulders. Thom literally swept me into his arms the moment we left the car and carried me up the palace steps. Waverly almost forgets to open the door for us, he looks so astonished as Thom marches past, breezing by a frozen Mrs. Holloway, her eyes bulging like a toad. I see many of the staff running to the grand hallway to see us, gasping and goggling. I wave at Zoya, who is jumping up and down in joy as she grabs Brande’s arm.
“You better give me the scoop!” she hollers as Thom walks by with a wink and a grin at them.
“Later!” I promise. Much, much later.
“Damn, I always forget how long the walk is,” Thom mutters.
“Hey, if you drop me you can forget about hot make-up sex.” I squirm again, this time in earnest. I’m not sensing any strain in his muscles or increased breathing, but I don’t want to take a chance on him injuring himself. And it is a really long walk to the king’s apartments. “Seriously, you can let me go. I promise I’m not going anywhere.”
His arms tighten around me instead and he cradles me even closer. “You can forget about it—I made that mistake once already. I’m not letting you go, ever again.”
My heart melts at his words and I press my lips to the underside of his rough jaw, licking him there delicately. A shudder courses through him and he walks faster until he’s nearly running.
At last we’re nearly to the king’s apartments and Louis is there by the doorway, grinning like a loon.
“I don’t want to be disturbed for the rest of the day,” Thom growls. “That’s an order.”
“I understand, Your Majesty.” Louis nods and quickly closes the heavy doors behind us.
Thom wastes no time striding straight to the bedroom and he places me gently on the bed and immediately climbs on as well, his mouth finding me urgently. He kisses me like it’s been years, not hours, since we’d last been together, but I feel the same desperation. When I left the palace, I’d thought I’d never be with Thom again.
He starts unbuttoning my shirt, nearly tearing it in his rush. “I’m sorry, but I can’t wait,” he mutters. “I just have to be in you right now.”
I nod, doing my best to tear his shirt off him. “I know, I feel like I’m going to die if I don’t have you.”
Somehow we scramble out of our clothes, and Thom is huge and rock hard, his cock rearing up and nearly slapping against his belly. Need throbs deep in me at the sight, and my already aching pussy spasms and gets even wetter. I feel like I could come just looking at him and I’m desperate to have him deep inside.
“Please, Thom, I need you now!” I gasp, spreading my legs wide, displaying my glistening pussy. With a groan he quickly positions himself between my thighs, rubbing his cock against my slit, making sure I’m ready before he thrusts hard, deep into me until he’s completely embedded. I cry out, his cock stretching me to my limit, but I arch my body, urging him on.
Thom hesitates, wanting to be sure. “Okay?”
He gasps as I squeeze him inside. “Hell yes, just fuck me!”
He gives me a feral grin. “As my queen commands.” He moves then, driving his cock as deep as he can with every powerful stroke
and I absolutely love it. He lifts my leg over his shoulder, opening me up even more to his cock and I know I’m not going to last, it’s too good. Thom scoots up on his knees and the action lifts my butt up in the air so he’s literally thrusting his cock down into me. The friction feels incredible from this angle, and I look up the length of my body to Thom, at where his big cock is shuttling back and forth, stretching and possessing my body, and it’s an incredibly erotic sight.
“You feel so good,” I moan, and then I scream as I feel Thom rub my clit. That is all I need as every muscle in my body tightens then explodes in an intense climax. My pussy clenches hard around Thom and he groans, his cock going incredibly hard before I feel the pulse of his release deep inside.
Thom lets my leg slide off his shoulder and slumps down on my body. I welcome his weight, cradling him as he moves until he can rest his head on my breast. We doze for a while before Thom breaks this sleepy silence.
“I’m sorry,” Thom murmurs, and my eyes pop open. Wait, is he telling me he changed his mind about us?
I struggle to sit up, ignoring Thom’s grumble as he’s dislodged from my chest. “What do you mean, you’re sorry? Sorry for what?”
Thom sits up next to me and leans back against the headboard, urging me to lie against his chest. I resist, wanting to look him in the eye. I need to see if he regrets any of this.
Thom sees the anxiety in my expression and he sighs softly, brushing his lips against my forehead. “I’m sorry that my boneheaded plan to masquerade as a playboy backfired and made you doubt your place in my life. I’m sorry that I never made us public before now. I’m sorry that I ever contributed, however ignorantly, to you ever feeling like you’re not worthy of being a queen.”
I swallow the lump in my throat at his words. “Oh Thom,” I whisper. “I was stupid to ever doubt you, and I’m sorry, too, that I made both of us miserable.”
He cradles my face with his hands, gently brushing my cheeks with his thumbs. “Why didn’t you ever tell me about Frederick being your father?”