The Crown: A Modern-Day Fairytale Romance

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The Crown: A Modern-Day Fairytale Romance Page 12

by Samantha Whiskey


  “How would I know?” he answered with a shrug.

  “Seeing as you slept with her, and she then left my employ, I was hoping you might able to locate her.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t exactly get her number.”

  “For God’s sake,” Charlotte muttered, folding her hands in her lap. “Is it possible for you to keep it in your pants?”

  Jameson smirked. “Why would I?”

  “What is the point to this...” Mother started.

  I leaned forward, bracing my elbows on my knees. “The point is that a Royal having a sexual affair is nothing new, and nothing news worthy. You’re all upset for the entirely wrong reason.”

  “You are the heir to the throne, only a few months away from your coronation, and you think this is acceptable? The entire population of Elleston expects to see you with Charlotte, and you’re seen grossly handling an American girl in the middle of a hotel!”

  “We can spin this—” Georgia began, reaching for a tabloid.

  “We’re spinning nothing,” I said. “You’re angry that the reputation of the monarchy is at stake. Where is your compassion?”

  “Compassion?” Mother’s head jerked as if she’d been slapped.

  “Willa’s just been outed. Her privacy violated,” Sophia said softly, uncurling her legs from under her on the opposite end of the couch. “We may have some political fallout, but hers is very personal.”

  “Thank you.” I nodded toward my little sister.

  “I don’t give a good God damn what her fallout is. She’s not in charge of keeping a monarchy running while her children do whatever the hell it is they like!” Mother’s voice raised before she took a calming breath. “Georgia, what do we do?”

  “I think we deny the relationship and go public with the betrothal to Lady Charlotte. We can stage a date, make sure the press is there, and sweep this right away. If we announce an engagement is forthcoming, that will go viral, and I mean viral. The public won’t be able to get enough once we confirm those rumors.”

  “Yeah. That’s not going to happen,” I said.

  “Alexander! Imagine how Charlotte feels!” Mother was turning red.

  “Charlotte feels just fine, Your Majesty,” Charlotte answered for herself. She met mother’s stare without flinching. Charlotte was born and bred to be royal, a true queen. She just didn’t feel like mine. “Xander and I talked. We agreed to give each other as much time as possible before we had to commit to one another. You know this. If anything,” she turned to smile at me. “I’m just happy that he’s happy, even if only for this moment.”

  Before I could thank Charlotte, Mother stood.

  “I’ve had it. Official position is that Alexander and Charlotte are happily exploring their possibilities, and this is actually a picture of Jameson. No one will bat an eye at you having a little...fun.”

  Jameson laughed in a sad, self-deprecating way. “Damn, now I’m getting blamed for the women I don’t even get to fuck.”

  “Jameson!”

  “Sorry, Mom.”

  I stood, having had just about enough of this bullshit. “The official statement will be as it always has been. The palace does not comment on the love lives of the Royal family, be they factual or insinuated. I’ve never risen to the bait, and I won’t now. I’m not throwing Willa to the wolves because she had the misfortune of taking me in during a snowstorm. I’ve bulldozed into her life—quite taken it over, really—and there’s zero chance I’m letting you put her in any compromising position.”

  “Looks like you’ve done that all yourself, brother,” a voice called from the doorframe.

  “Brie!” Sophia jumped from her seat and raced to the doorway to hug our sister.

  Brie wrapped her arms around Sophia and hugged her before they broke apart. “Looks like I’m not the only one making headlines around here,” she said, smirking at me. Her makeup was heavy, her jeans skinny, her tank top low-cut, and her leather jacket as black as her straight hair that fell nearly to her waist.

  She was Brie.

  I crossed the distance between us and hugged her, just happy to have all of my siblings together. “Yeah, well I’ll handle this one. You just stay off the damn bars until we stabilize the monarchy, shall we?”

  “Hey,” she shrugged. “I’m the same person I’ve always been. It’s you who’s throwing everyone for a loop.”

  I shook my head and walked toward my bedroom, Oliver already posted outside the door.

  “Xander.” Mother’s voice stopped me cold with her softeness.

  “Mother?” I turned just outside my door to find her on my heels.

  “I love you just as much as I love this country, but what do you expect?” Her face fell in a sadness I hadn’t seen since Father’s death.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “This girl. You know nothing can come of this. Parliament would never allow you to marry a commoner, let alone an American. What you’re doing...it’s short-sighted and unlike you. I urged you before, but now I beg of you. Let the girl go home and lick her wounds before you scar her in a way she’ll never recover from.”

  For the first time since I was a boy, my mother had rendered me speechless.

  “Oh. My. God.” Willa turned slowly in a circle, the light from the stained glass windows catching in her hair and giving it even more color. “What is this place?”

  “It’s the National Archives of Elleston,” I answered, loving the way she took in every detail of the rotunda.

  “Books and books for days,” she said. “Is this some kind of Beauty and the Beast moment?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow in my direction.

  “If you’re asking if I’m giving you this library, then the answer is no. That would be slightly illegal.”

  She laughed, the sound echoing off the large, marble walls. I’d had it emptied this afternoon so we could visit without prying eyes. There were perks to being a Wyndham. Besides, after all I’d put her through yesterday with those fucking tabloids, she deserved something spectacular.

  “Are these…” she ran her hand along the shelves, not disturbing the delicate spines of the ancient books. “Are these all first editions?”

  “Mostly,” I nodded. “Whenever I’m not attempting to do my day job—”

  “You mean running a country?” she threw a smile over her shoulder. God, that sundress hit all of her curves in the right places. As out-of-place as her boots were in the archives, they were so perfectly Willa. She wrapped her hip-length cardigan around her.

  “Lately, that seems to be it. But while I was practicing law, I made it a point to hunt down any first editions we were missing. It was a hobby of sorts, a way to make my Father smile.”

  She paused, turning back toward me. “You made it a point? Past tense?”

  I shoved my hands in the pockets of my trousers and shrugged. “Doesn’t seem like I’ll have a lot of spare time once I take the throne. Several things will have to be left behind when the prince becomes the King.”

  Like us.

  She walked back toward me until her hand rested above my heart. I felt her heat through the linen of my button-down shirt. At least I’d neglected the tie and rolled the sleeves after my meeting with Damian this morning.

  “Just because you take on the duties of King doesn’t mean you lose who you are,” she said softly, looking up at me with eyes that saw way too much. “It’s who you are, not what you are that makes you exceptional, Xander. Don’t leave that behind because of a shiny piece of jewelry. You are capable of such amazing things, but at the end of the day, you have to be you. Promise me that won’t change.”

  “Willa…”

  “No. Promise me,” she begged, her hands fisting in the fabric of my shirt. “Because I won’t be here to make sure. I won’t be here to see that you find your books and smile on the dark days. I won’t be here to see who you become—”

  My heart split in two, the thought of losing her simply unimaginable. I cupped her face in my hands and kissed her.
She tasted of desperation, and fear, and emotion I was too scared to name. I moved my tongue along hers, promising her wordlessly all I could in this moment.

  This was who I wanted to be. The man who took this woman to libraries, and kissed her in the stacks.

  She leaned up on her tiptoes, wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me back for all that she was worth. My hand slipped up her thigh, under her dress to cup the perfection of her ass.

  A throat cleared behind me, and for a moment, I considered a royal decree of death to whomever it belonged to.

  “Someone had better be dead, Oliver,” I said without looking. I did, however, remove my hand from Willa’s dress. The last thing I wanted was to share any part of her with anyone else.

  “You’re going to want to see this, Sir.”

  Willa’s arms slipped from my neck, and we walked the small distance to where he stood in the doorway of the rotunda.

  “What is it?”

  “Press conference.”

  My eyes narrowed as I took his cell phone and hit play on the video he’d queued up on ENN.Com.

  Georgia came into view, standing on the steps of the Royal Palace.

  “I’ll take one question,” she said with a smile.

  “Can you tell us about the American Prince Alexander was seen with in New York? We had been under the assumption that he was seeing Lady Charlotte Carlisle?”

  My stomach clenched, and Willa laid her head on my arm to watch.

  Georgia’s smile resembled the Chesire cat. “Now, that’s two questions.”

  The crowd of reporters laughed.

  “I can say that there are absolutely no problems with Prince Alexander. Our favorite couple is going strong and at this moment discussing plans to seal that...commitment.” She waggled her ring finger with a wink.

  I was going to go fucking ballistic.

  “But that picture…” a reporter called out.

  “Oh come on, guys. Can’t you tell the difference between Alexander and Jameson? Do you ever in a million years think your Crown Prince would put on such a public display of affection? Trademark Jameson. It’s all in the hair, people.”

  Every muscle in my body locked. My hair hadn’t been tamed. It had been up and unruly just like his, because I was supposed to be him. He’d been on the plane to LA.

  Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.

  “It’s okay,” Willa said, squeezing my arm as I gave the phone back to Oliver.

  “It’s anything but okay. Did you hear what she said?”

  “She didn’t really say anything that wasn’t true,” Willa said as Oliver backed away. The man was always good at knowing when he needed to make himself scarce. “You are still betrothed, whether or not they know it. Making out with an American woman in public is Jameson’s MO, not yours. She didn’t lie.”

  “Maybe that’s why I fucking hate it!” I snapped. “God, Willa, I’m sorry.”

  She didn’t back away, didn’t flinch, just gave me the same accepting smile. “You can’t hate what your life is, Xander.”

  “They think he touched you.” An irrational jealousy flared in my chest, turning my stomach sour and heating my blood. Willa was mine. Mine and mine alone. Not Jameson’s. I wouldn’t share her, even if only in insinuation and rumor.

  “Look, this is good. Everyone knows I’m the one in that picture, but this clears you. We both know Jameson hasn’t so much as breathed on me. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.”

  I stroked the soft skin of her cheeks. “It matters to me. You are mine. I don’t care how chauvinistic it sounds, or utterly ridiculous. I can’t keep you. God, I know that. It’s killing me to know that we only have less than three months left—that I’m already wild about you. But you’re like a fucking hurricane. You came out of nowhere and you brought me to my knees. I might not be able to keep you in my life for forever, but you’re here now. You’re mine. Not his. I won’t let you be some dirty rumor that gets swept out like tomorrow’s garbage.”

  “Xander, I’ve never minded what other people think about me. I only care what you think.”

  I swallowed, an irrational thought popping into my head. I couldn't...but I could. We could. “Do you trust me?”

  “I flew halfway across the world with a man I’ve known for about a week, so yeah, I trust you,” she said with a grin.

  My heart slammed in my chest as I took her hand and led her toward the front door of the National Archives. The massive double doors were guarded by Oliver and his team, who all stood at attention as I neared.

  “Given the situation, I think the back door might be best,” Oliver said quietly. “A crowd has gathered to wait for entrance since you shut the place down temporarily.”

  “Open the door,” I ordered, Willa’s hand tucked securely in mine.

  “I’m sorry?” Oliver asked.

  I looked down at Willa, her eyes trusting and so full of acceptance and honesty that I couldn’t help but kiss her softly. “Take a leap of faith with me?”

  “Even if it burns you?” she asked, her eyes wide with concern.

  “Let me worry about the ramifications. Just...Please, Willa.”

  She worried her lower lip with her teeth but eventually nodded.

  “Open the fucking doors, Oliver. No one knows we’re in here. There’s no assassin lurking on the off chance I’m at the Archives.”

  “You’re going to be the fucking death of me, you know that?” He snapped.

  “Open. The. Doors. That’s an order from your Prince.”

  He openly glared at me, but turned to his men. “Open the doors. Head out first, Littleton, you take the left side of the crowd, Roan, you take the right. Standard sweep as quickly as possible.” He lifted his wrist and spoke into his mic. “Bring the limo around to the front. Now. Yes, that’s what I said. Now.”

  The doors flew wide, and sunlight streamed in. It was a brisk day, in the forties, but I’d have her back in the car in a matter of no time.

  We walked hand-in-hand out of the doors and onto the marble steps where the crowd had lined up to gain entrance to the archives. There were two lines on either side of us—for the entrance booths, no doubt—and a perfect path down the center.

  I heard gasps in the crowd and the telltale click of cameras. A quick glance showed people fumbling with their phones, no doubt trying to snap a picture or a video.

  Willa swallowed but then smiled up at me. “What’s your plan, hot shot?”

  “Hello there,” I called to the crowd with a wave. “I’m Prince Alexander and I’m so very sorry to have kept you out here waiting in the cold.”

  From the corner of my eye, I saw the limo pull onto the street in front of us. Oliver was going to have my head if I didn’t move soon.

  “Prince Alexander, who are you with?” a woman with a cell phone up asked.

  “I’m glad you asked. This is Willa Collins.” I looked down at Willa, and for a millisecond, it was just us. I had a feeling it would always be like this with her. Whether we were in New York, or Elleston, or Siberia...or apart, she would always make the world disappear for me. “She’s my girlfriend.”

  A hundred flashes went off as I brushed my lips over Willa’s.

  Now that’s how you go viral.

  Willa

  “She’s stunning.” I blurted the words, stopping Xander as he led us toward a set of wide double doors. He followed my line of sight, his features smooth and unreadable.

  “Charlotte?” He said her name like a question.

  “Yes,” I said, gaping at him. “Look at her. She looks like a queen, only less vicious than your mo—” I cut myself off, whirling my head around to make sure the queen wasn’t behind us, then quickly glanced upward in case she decided to rappel from the ceiling.

  Xander chuckled, shaking his head. “Are you nervous?”

  “No.” That was such a lie. My pulse raced, my hands were sweating inside the silk gloves they’d given me to match the dress, and my hair wasn’t as I would normally wea
r it. The two ladies who’d come to my room with dress options had made sure to do my hair in a way that wouldn’t show my colors. I would’ve rather enjoyed the process if they weren’t trying to turn me into something I wasn’t—Xander may have announced to the world that I was his girlfriend last week, but that didn’t magically turn me into a princess.

  My knees wobbled at the memory of his declaration, and heat flared between my thighs. He was all in—even if for the last couple of months we had—and I really couldn’t ask more than that. He’d given me so much already.

  “You’re stunning,” he said, holding my arm a bit tighter. “Though,” he said, sighing. “I do wish those colors were on your shoulders instead of hiding underneath this…knot.” He traced a finger over my cheek, and I grinned into his touch. At least we were on the same page. As usual. It would make it a thousand times harder to leave him when I had to.

  “Thank you.” I smoothed my free hand over his broad chest, enjoying the feel of the luxurious fabric of his suit. “You’re enough to drive me crazy in that suit.”

  He cocked an eyebrow at me. “And here I thought you liked me naked and wet.”

  Memories of our time spent in his massive tub sent tendrils of heat down my center. My skin flushed, and I forced myself to focus.

  “Are you sure you want me to do this?” I worried my lip between my teeth. “I honestly have no problem staying in your room.” Hiding like a coward. That wasn’t me, but this was my first public royal event, and I wasn’t exactly on everyone’s favorite list.

  “Of course,” he said. “I want you with me.” A muscle in his jaw flexed. “For however long I can have you.”

  I gazed up at him, wondering how words were clogging in my throat when I was paid to write them.

  “Alexander.” Charlotte’s voice was as delicate as the silk gown she wore. It was white, pristine, and with a subtle sparkle like some inner light radiated her every move. “May I have a moment with Willa before we all go in?”

  Xander slanted his gaze for just a moment, studying her, but I slipped my arm from his without waiting on an answer.

 

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