The Crown: A Modern-Day Fairytale Romance

by Samantha Whiskey

  “Willa?” I nearly shouted.

  Like it was a fucking movie, the crowd started to part, everyone trying to get a look at her.

  There she stood. A ball gown the deepest shade of blue that hugged her perfect breasts before caressing her curved waist and flaring to the floor. Her hair was up, no doubt a rainbow in the back, and her smile tentative but breathtaking.

  She was exquisite.

  She was here.

  She was mine.

  I jumped off the dais, landing on my feet like an action hero and sprinted through the break the crowd had given me. Members of parliament, Dukes, Lords—I passed them all without a second glance as I ran to her.

  Pausing only long enough to ensure I didn’t run her over, I gathered her into my arms and lifted her against me. God, she felt so right in my arms. In that breath, my heart flared back to life, whole again.

  “You’re here,” I whispered in her ear.

  “I’m here,” she promised.

  We pulled back, lost in each other’s eyes in the best way possible. My whole future was here, in this woman I held in my arms.

  A throat cleared next to us, and we both glanced to the side. Holy shit, everyone was staring.

  “Xander? Could we maybe take a minute?” Willa whispered.

  “Absolutely,” I answered.

  As calmly as I could manage, I led her back up to the dais—this time taking the stairs. I kept her hand firmly in mine as if she’d disappear if I loosened my grip.

  We looked out over the sea of shocked onlookers.

  “We...uh...need a minute,” I said.

  Smooth.

  I didn’t stop to look at anyone. Their opinions weren’t necessary. Not anymore. I led Willa through the door into the hallway, where Oliver soon followed. He passed us, then cleared the small conference room across the hall.

  “You’re good,” he said, holding the door open for us.

  “Thank you. For everything.”

  “You keep it interesting, don’t you?” He smiled. “Go get her.”

  The door closed behind me with a soft click.

  “Willa,” I said, her name the best prayer ever. Reaching for her, our mouths met in a fury of lips and tongue as if all the need we’d built up over the last month had suddenly unleashed in this one kiss.

  Her arms reached around my neck as I cupped her face with one of my hands, and her waist with my other. Lust raced through me, a desperate need to not just claim her body, but her heart. To know we’d never be apart again.

  “Wait!” She gasped, pushing from me and stepping back.

  “How long? Another month?” I asked, stalking forward.

  “I left for a reason.” She warded me off with an outstretched hand.

  “Because I couldn’t marry you.”

  “Yes. No. Because I couldn’t watch you touch someone else, marry someone else—” she backed against a wall.

  “Nowhere else to run,” I said with a smirk.

  “I had my reasons.”

  “Reasons to stay hidden? To not take a phone call?”

  “I knew I couldn’t stay away, or tell you no if you found me. Hell, Jameson found me, and here I am. The moment I saw him I knew it was hopeless.”

  I brought our bodies flush, pressing her into the wall. Her silk skirts swished around my legs. “You came back. You’re mine, and you don’t get to deny that. Never again. You came back to me, and you don’t ever get to take that back.”

  I kissed her, thrusting my tongue inside her warm mouth. Our tongues dueled until we both moaned, quickly losing ourselves to the chemistry that immediately ignited the moment we were in the same room.

  My hands quested along her dress but her bodice was too tight to fit my hand in to cup her breasts, and her skirts were too damn big to get my hands under.

  “This fucking dress,” I murmured.

  “Did you mean it?” She asked, panting as I tore my mouth from hers.

  “What?”

  “The engagement.”

  “I will marry you right now if you don’t mind being married in blue, Willa. I’m sure there’s a priest in the crowd somewhere.” Hell yes, I meant it. I was getting a ring on her finger as soon as possible.

  “Good, because I’m pregnant.”

  My questing hands stopped, and I took a single step backward, my eyes flying to her flat belly. Or at least I thought it was flat. Her dress was a fucking ball gown. “Pregnant?” I asked quietly, my hand reverently covering her abdomen.

  She tugged her lip between her teeth and nodded. “I’m just about three months.”

  “Three months?” I repeated like a parrot.

  “I think so.” She grabbed my hand, pulling it to her heart and her eyes watered. “I couldn’t stay knowing that this child would be some hidden, illegitimate heir. I could stay for you, I could be your dirty little secret, but I’d never let that happen to our baby.”

  A baby. A family of my own. A chance to build something of our own that wasn’t based on thousand-year traditions. A fresh start with the love of my life.

  “Xander, say something.”

  I pulled her into my arms, tucking her head against my chest and held her tight.

  “You are a miracle. You both are.”

  Pure, unfettered happiness raced through me...until a knock sounded at the door.

  “Sir, they’re getting restless,” Oliver said through the door.

  “Right. Come with me?” I asked Willa.

  “Anywhere.” She held out her hand, and I took it.

  Within a few moments, we were back in the ballroom, which had hushed to a tense silence. Charlotte smiled and gave me a thumbs up as we ascended the stairs to the dais. Then she pulled Willa back and hugged her.

  I was so fucking blessed.

  Willa and I walked up to the podium, and the room became even more silent if that was possible.

  “I’d like to present my fiancee, Willa Collins.”

  Flashes went off in front of us, but Willa held strong, her head high. She didn’t need a country to be a queen—she simply was one. We smiled at one another, besotted like idiots.

  “What about the laws?” One voice called out.

  With Willa’s hand in mine, I leaned forward to the microphone.

  “Oh, yeah. Those.” I smiled at Willa, and then looked back at the crowd. “I, Prince Alexander, yada-yada, hereby abdicate my throne. Or my right to the throne. Whatever it is.” I gave the crowd a wave, and then swung Willa up into my arms and marched out.

  The only sound was the door shutting behind us.

  Then a roar went through the ballroom, but I didn’t give a fuck.

  “You gave it up? For me?”

  “For us,” I corrected her. “I meant what I said. A king is no good with half a heart, and you have my whole soul, Willa. None of this matters without you, and everything else matters with you. Do you mind?” I asked her, concentrating only on her incredible eyes as she looked up at me. She’d never wanted me for my crown, but a small bite of insecurity took hold.

  “Mind what?”

  “That our child won’t have the throne? I mean, I’m well-invested, so as long as you’re okay with only three or four houses instead of the palace, we’re financially fine, but he or she won’t inherit the crown.”

  She stroked my cheek lovingly and pressed a soft kiss to my lips.

  “They will inherit something even more precious...our happily ever after.”

  Happily ever after. It sounded perfect.

  And it was exactly what I would give her.

  Willa

  “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” I asked, eyeing the plain black t-shirt Xander had slipped over his muscled chest. It hugged him in all the right places, as did the dark jeans, but he still looked…regal. Something I doubt he’d ever shed, which I was secretly grateful for. The family, the life, it was all part of who he was. It always would be…but now, he was mine.

  Ours.

  “Born ready,”
he said, and I burst out laughing. “What?” He tilted his head, snaking his arms around me. “Too cliché?”

  “A little,” I said, melting into his embrace.

  “How long do we have?” He asked, and I eyed the clock on the wall of the small break room the bookstore manager had cleared for us.

  “Twenty minutes.” A flutter ran through my heart, anticipation making my blood race. The fact that there was already a line out the door was incredible, but the man acting as my assistant? That was dizzying.

  “Mmmm,” he mumbled against my neck, kissing my racing pulse. “I can do a lot in twenty minutes.”

  “Xander,” I tried to chide him, but my voice came out slightly breathless.

  “What?” He nipped at my neck, hugging me against his chest as he lifted me off my feet. “No paparazzi, not for me anyway. Nothing to hide from here.” He gently placed my back against the closed door, a strategic choice.

  “And the readers? What if one of them wandered in? Wouldn’t that bother you?”

  He chuckled hooking my legs around his hips, securing me to him without me having to do a thing. “You could use it for your next…Shayla book.” The way he whispered my alter-ego’s name sent a shiver of fire down my center.

  I rocked gently against what I could feel through his jeans.

  A smirk shaped his lips when he realized he’d won. He reached a hand between us, his fingers working my clit over the fabric of my leggings. I sighed, arching against his hand as I captured his mouth.

  Insatiable. The man held me with one hand and made me lose my mind with the other.

  “Fuck, Willa,” he whispered, breaking our kiss. “You’re soaking through your leggings.”

  “Can you blame me?” I gazed at him, my eyes hooded, my breasts heavy, every inch of me aching for him.

  A growl rumbled from his chest, sending shivers over my skin.

  The click of the lock may as well have been a disintegration button for my panties. He spun me around and laid me down on the empty plastic table in the center of the room.

  Kissing his way down my neck, he slid my black leggings down just enough for him to touch me. He hovered over my belly, still flat but nonetheless noticeable in the way he cared for the area, gently kissing the skin beneath my belly button, saying hello to our baby before working his way back up to my lips. “I truly adore you, Willa,” he whispered before claiming my mouth.

  “I totally love you, Xander.” I arched into him, sighing happily when he quickly unzipped and took no time at all the fill me. He moved with a careful pace, as he had every single time since I’d told him about our baby, but it was just as mind-blowing as when he went full cave-man.

  We only had fifteen minutes left, but he wouldn’t need half that time to make me soar.

  The man was a king in the sack.

  Eighteen minutes later, Xander gave me the thumbs up as he opened the door for me. I half expected Oliver to be standing guard on the other side, but of course he wasn’t. He was back in Elleston.

  It had been two weeks since Xander had made the life-changing and country-altering decision to marry me and leave the throne to Jameson.

  God help that country. Charlotte wouldn’t let him turn it into his own personal pleasure island though, which made me feel slightly better about the situation. It was hard to feel guilty when I had the love of such an incredible man. My soon to be husband.

  I took a seat at the black linen covered table, Xander standing behind me as the bookstore manager ushered the first wave of readers to the table.

  Picking up my favorite pen, I grinned at the ring on my left hand. I was still getting used to the sight of it, the weight of it, but I couldn’t be happier. Sometimes I had to pinch myself to see if I’d fallen into one of my most far-fetched dreams.

  Life with Xander, loving him, had turned out to be more adventurous and passionate and real than anything I could ever hope to pen in one of my books.

  And our story had only just started.

  Epilogue

  Jameson

  The pounding on my bedroom door was as relentless as the headache that was currently making my life a living hell.

  “Go the fuck away!” I yelled, rolling over and tangling my naked body in the sheets.

  The door flew open, and I flipped over to see who had the audacity to blatantly disobey.

  “I most certainly will not!” Charlotte yelled from my doorway.

  I grabbed the sheet to my waist.

  “What the hell do you want, Charlie?” I snapped.

  She walked in, the personification of grace, beauty, intelligence...royalty. She dodged the clothes I’d left on the floor last night with tiny steps and —fuck me—the sexiest pair of heels I’d ever seen on her feet.

  “Are you still drunk?” she accused, her kissable lips pursed.

  “Maybe.” I shrugged. The last two weeks since Xander had decided to abdicate had been a blur of bad mistakes and worse ideas. Seriously. Who the fuck wanted me to lead them? It was Xander’s right. He was the one who had been trained by our father to rule our nation. Sure, I could make a girl come a few dozen different ways, but that wasn’t going to help me win the hearts of parliament...at least, not the male ones.

  “For the love of God, Jaime. It’s been two weeks. Pull your shit together.”

  I blinked.

  “Did you just swear at me?”

  “I did.” She turned, going into my closet and coming back out a moment later with a button down shirt and slacks.

  “Yeah, I’m not Xander. You can’t pick out my clothes and assume I’m going to do what you want, Charlie.”

  “Don’t call me that!” She seethed. Fuck, I loved riling her up. “Now listen. Neither one of us wants this. I get it. But unless you want riots in your streets—which is a real possibility if you haven’t turned on the news—you’d better get up and lead. The coronation is scheduled for six weeks from tomorrow, and the wedding is in four weeks from today.”

  “What wedding? Not sure if you noticed, but Xander eloped with Willa.” I knew exactly what she was talking about, but wasn’t going to give her the pleasure.

  She arched an eyebrow at me. “And I’m happy for them. Truly, I am. How the hell did I get stuck with you?”

  “With me?” I asked, flexing. Her gaze wandered to my biceps, then down my chest and abs. “Keep looking, Charlie, and we’ll be taking your clothes off instead of putting mine on.”

  “You’re gross.” She crossed her arms under her incredible breasts.

  “So you don’t want me?” I tilted my head. She’d always been the one woman I couldn’t arouse, couldn’t tempt. She was the one woman who had always belonged to my twin brother.

  “Come on, Jaime. You’ve slept with half the damn country, and I’m...what did you call me last year? Frigid?”

  “Okay, you took that totally out of context. And considering the fact that we’ve been friends since we were born, if you’re going to start rehashing stuff from years ago we’re going to be here a long time.” Damn, my head was pounding, and she wasn’t helping matters. Now my cock was throbbing, too. It was always like that around Charlotte, and considering I was naked and she was three feet away from my bed, this could only end badly. “Look, we’ve always gotten along—”

  “Which is the only reason I’m willing to stay for the next four weeks and help you find a wife.”

  My heart fucking dropped. “You what?”

  “I’m going to help you find a wife,” she repeated.

  I blinked. “So you’re not the one…”

  “Hell no, I’m not marrying you! We could never be anything more than friends!” she shouted, losing her trademark cool. “I’m well aware that you think of me as a sister. That you don’t want this or me. Hell, after Xander, I’m used to it, and I’m done with it.”

  “You’re done with it.”

  “Done with not being wanted. With being second choice. Done with saddling myself to a life without love. Yes, I’m done.
”

  “Charlotte, I really think you need to leave.”

  “So what? So you can go back to the bottle of scotch on your night stand?” She gestured to the offending liquor.

  “Charlotte. Get. Out.”

  “No. I’m all you have left on your side. The public may love you as the resident playboy, but not the leader of Elleston. I’m willing to help you find your wife, but I’ll be damned if I’m stuck in some kind of arrangement like I was with Alexander.”

  My brother. Her ex-fiancee. The guy she’d been intended to her entire life. He was the heir. I was the spare. The fucking spare who enjoyed doing whatever and whomever I wanted whenever I chose to.

  But now I was the Crown Prince of Elleston.

  And the one woman I thought I was going to have to marry for the last two weeks was rejecting me...because she refused to be with someone who didn’t want her.

  “Charlotte, get out before I strip you out of those prim little clothes, drag you into this bed and show you exactly how much I want you, exactly which depraved fantasies of mine you’ve starred in since you grew into those legs of yours.”

  “Wh-what?” she asked, taking a step back. The blood rushed from her face, and her hand flew to her heart like she could guard her modesty or something when she was still completely covered in Alexander McQueen.

  I leaned forward, pressing the advantage. “I said, get out, or get in my bed. I know exactly how to remove the stick up your ass, and it has to do with my tongue against your clit.”

  Her mouth popped open, and surprise quickly turned to anger.

  “Okay, you know what? Be an asshole. Whatever. Lying to me—trying to talk dirty to me like I’m one of the...whores you bring in here night after night isn’t going to get me out of your face. I’m staying until our monarchy is secure. You have to pick a bride, Jameson. Once you have an heir, you can screw whomever you like behind closed doors. Then I can go back home and do the same with whomever I choose for once. You have to pull yourself together, or your country is going to rip itself apart.” She shook her head at me. “Now get dressed so we can meet with the freaking wedding planner and start going over the dossier of every available aristocrat who is stupid enough to marry you.” She turned her sexy ass around and marched out of my room, slamming the door behind her.