Prince

by Cambria Hebert

  So no matter how derisive I felt toward my parents, I would pull on my fake smile and charming laugh and act like our family was exactly as everyone wanted to believe: a picture of modern royalty.

  And maybe we were modern royalty after all because, like all the other royals we’d come to know, underneath our shiny crowns were secrets and unrest. I might put on an act for tonight, but that didn’t mean I didn’t believe everything I’d said last night.

  A light touch on my arm brought me out of the internal reverie, and I gazed down to Bree motioning for my attention. “Fletcher is here.”

  And with those words, my false bravado and fake smile were forgotten. Under the wide, ornately designed flower arch, Ivory and Neo moved forward, looking exactly like the royalty I’d been thinking of.

  Ivory would hold every eye tonight in the scalloped hem red lace gown that floated across the floor as she walked. Her black hair, red lips, and blue stare would captivate everyone within close proximity, much to the frustration of the man on her arm.

  Neo was dressed in a classic black suit, black vest, and a black tie with a red plaid design. His midnight hair was brushed back, and the air of arrogance I always thought he carried with him dared anyone to say that he didn’t belong at Ivory’s side.

  They made a handsome couple for sure, likely to be the most talked about, most watched couple in attendance tonight.

  However, it wasn’t them I was interested in.

  It was the man who walked in behind them, his silhouette causing a slew of butterflies to erupt in my waist the second he came into view.

  His footsteps stalled under the archway bursting with white roses and green ivy, eyes skimming the room as if he couldn’t care less about the posh decorations and fancy attendees. He was looking for only one thing… and the second his golden eyes found it, they didn’t look at anything else again.

  The wide space between us became irrelevant when our stares locked, saying everything lips and words never could, making up for all the hours we’d been apart.

  Great gods, he looked unbelievable. In fact, I blinked more than once to make sure he was really there. Fletcher might call me a prince, but he was my fairy tale, one I never believed would come true.

  His normally unruly hair was neat and parted at the side, styled to lie in a style that wasn’t sleek but straight and slightly fluffy. The light-brown strands were newly trimmed around his ears and neck, which only accentuated how his chin tapered into a narrow point. Maybe it was the lighting in here. Maybe it was the shine to his hair, but his eyes were straight gold, purer than anything even nature could create. They stared at me from under groomed eyebrows and impossibly dark lashes resting atop wide cheekbones that burned with his natural blush.

  His long, slim body was outlined by straight black pants and a midnight-blue velvet blazer that highlighted his narrow waist and broad shoulders. The tie was pink, my favorite color for a tie, but seeing it around his neck inspired wild thoughts of grabbing the silky length, wrapping it around my palm, and using it as an anchor so he couldn’t get away.

  “Mr. Abbott.”

  My eyes never left him. I stood there drowning in everything he was.

  “Mr. Abbott.” Finally, Bree’s voice broke in.

  “What?”

  “People are staring.” She warned.

  “Let them.”

  Pushing off my heel, I moved forward, stopping only when the distance between us was barely anything at all. “You’re wearing my favorite color,” I murmured, letting him see the hunger I burned with.

  “Is this your favorite color?” he asked innocently.

  Tongue sliding over my teeth, I leaned in toward his ear. “I want you in that tie and nothing else in my bed tonight. Understood?”

  I felt his shiver, and I truly considered pulling him up to my suite right then and there.

  “I’ll think about it.” His response was much more ambiguous than his body’s reaction.

  Drawing back, I studied him incredulously with a single eyebrow arched. “You dare to disobey me?”

  “Maybe I need to be punished.”

  The sharp intake of my breath was not quiet. I felt fire burn in my eyes, and I hoped it scorched him. “Teasing me like this in public is very dangerous, puppy. Be careful what you ask for.”

  His ears were scarlet, a clear indication he was feeling shy, yet he didn’t back down.

  The alpha inside me roared to get out. “Later.” I vowed.

  His eyes skirted away, and his teeth sank nervously into his plump lower lip.

  “Hey,” I said softly, making an effort to rein in some of the crazy sexual tension that just exploded. Reaching out, I relieved him of the violin case he carried and straightened. “You look beautiful,” I whispered.

  Happiness shone in his eyes, but then he frowned. “I’m not supposed to look beautiful.”

  “Well, that’s what you are to me.”

  He tried to suppress his smile, but I saw it anyway.

  “Ethan!” Ivory called, she and Neo stepping into the conversation. “This place looks incredible.”

  “Well, if you think so, it must be true.” I smiled, leaning in to kiss her cheeks. She made a small sound and pulled back, slipping her hand between us.

  A beat of surprise rippled through me, but I recovered, as any gentleman would, to lift her hand and kiss the back of it. “You look exquisite as always.”

  “Thank you.” She smiled, glancing over the suit she had custom made for me. “As do you.”

  “All thanks to you.”

  Neo yawned. “The whole night is gonna be like this, Fletch. Everyone gawking at each other’s clothes and complimenting them. But then when they walk away, you will hear them mutter something rude under their breath.”

  “Neo,” Ivory admonished.

  “Tell me I’m wrong, princess.”

  “Well, not entirely.”

  “Earth! Beau!” Fletcher called, making all of us look up.

  The two men approached, both looking out of their element in suits and walking under the huge archway of flowers.

  Earth was dressed all in black, his Asian features sharp and solemn, black hair combed back from his face. Beau’s suit was deep forest green, a color that had to have been chosen by Ivory because it played off his green eyes and red hair perfectly. Red hair that was shockingly not covered by a beanie.

  “I didn’t know you were coming!” Fletcher said, bouncing from foot to foot.

  I knew his instinct was to hug them, but he held himself back.

  “I told you I invited them,” I said. “They definitely want to hear you play.”

  Earth looked like he’d swallowed a frog, but Beau was much more generous. “Wouldn’t miss it. Not every day we get to see you play for this fancy crowd.”

  Fletcher swallowed heavily, eyes skirting around to the room that was starting to fill with guests.

  “Ivory sent the suits. Thought it would be rude if we didn’t use them,” Earth said.

  “You like being rude,” Ivory quipped, and Earth made a face.

  “Thank you for coming, Earth,” Fletcher said, this time not holding back and wrapping his arms around Earth’s waist for a quick hug.

  Earth’s eyes softened, and I suppressed a laugh. No one was immune to Fletcher. Not even big, bad, scary Earth.

  My parents chose that moment to step into the ballroom, almost as if they wanted to prove that there was, in fact, people immune to him.

  My gaze collided with my father’s, and his narrowed when he saw who stood beside me. Turning away from them completely, I placed my palm on Fletcher’s lower back. “Come on. You should get started.”

  “You shouldn’t argue with them tonight,” Fletch whispered as we walked toward the piano.

  Disappointment twisted my middle when I realized he’d seen my parents. “I won’t,” I answered. “You should know that if you see me smiling and getting along with them, don’t think I’ve somehow forgiven them. Neo was ri
ght earlier. Everyone here tonight is fake to some degree.”

  “Okay.”

  “Just focus on playing and don’t worry about anything else.”

  I watched him efficiently unpack his violin, which, to be honest, looked like it had seen better days. But when I offered to get him a new one, pure offense twisted his face as he plainly declared he had a bond with his violin and he would not be replacing it.

  The second he started to play, no one would notice the state of that instrument anyway.

  “Do you understand?” I asked when he still said nothing.

  His eyes finally lifted to mine. “Don’t worry, E. I’ll play no matter what tonight. I promised. I’ll do my best and not embarrass you.”

  Concern hit me, making my face wrinkle. “That’s not what I meant,” I said, laying a hand on his arm. “I’m not worried about you embarrassing me. I just don’t want you to worry about my parents.”

  “I—”

  “Ethan!” a familiar voice called, making me look up.

  Henry and Samantha made their way toward us, and though he called out to me, Henry was looking at Fletcher.

  Removing my arm from Fletch, I straightened, offering it out to Henry. We shook, and then Henry did the same with Fletcher.

  “I’ve been looking forward to tonight. I’m anxious to hear you play.”

  Fletcher’s cheeks flamed, and his head ducked.

  “Ah, you’ve had her a while.” Nonplussed, he continued.

  Fletcher looked up at that, raising the violin between them. “For many years. I’m sure she’s not as beautiful as the one you use, but—”

  Henry lifted his hand. “I completely understand. My most favorite violin, I’ve had for over twenty years. So many fond memories and attachments to that instrument. She looks a lot like yours. It adds character and depth of sound. People don’t quite understand the bond you can form with your instrument.”

  “That’s what I told Ethan!” Fletcher said enthusiastically. “He didn’t believe me.”

  “Yes, I did,” I argued.

  Henry laughed, but so did his wife, Samantha.

  All of Fletcher’s attention turned to the petite woman with dark-golden strands. His eyes marveled a bit, and fresh pink bloomed over his cheeks. The look on my lover’s face accompanied by the sound of Samantha’s giggle hit me like a right hook in the side.

  Recovering, I cleared my throat. “Fletcher, this is Samantha Cossgrove, Henry’s better half.”

  “Hello, ma’am,” Fletcher said, voice timid.

  “It’s wonderful to meet you, Fletcher. Henry told me about meeting you. He’s very excited to hear you play. So am I. Violin is an important thing in our family.”

  Fletcher nodded, inching closer to my side. On instinct, I put my arm around his waist, hovering my palm at his side. I didn’t think anything of it until I saw both Henry’s and Samantha’s gaze drop to where I held him.

  Obviously noticing as well, Fletch stiffened and started to pull away. I didn’t allow it, my hand settling more firmly at his waist.

  It was not my intent to create a buzz or even a scandal here tonight, but I also refused to act as if anything I did was wrong. Fletcher had clearly needed my assurance, and I would give it under every circumstance.

  “Well,” I said, drawing everyone’s stares once more. “Fletcher has to start playing, as guests are rapidly arriving. How about I show you a few of my favorite features of the hotel?”

  “That would be lovely,” Samantha said. Glancing back at Fletcher, she smiled. “I hope we can speak again later.”

  “Sure.”

  The couple moved off to the side, offering me a moment with Fletch, who glanced up, nerves clear in his stare.

  “Just play like you always do. Pretend you’re in the subway or in our living room. Play for me tonight, okay? Not for anyone else.”

  “Okay, E.”

  I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to lean in and allow my lips to linger on his forehead. I wanted to stroke the velvet of his jacket with my fingertips.

  Instead, I tucked my hands into my pockets, feeling an irrational sort of anger strike through me.

  “Ethan?” He seemed confused, worried even, as he picked up on my mood.

  A choked sound broke out of my throat, and I told my “good breeding” to go to hell. Leaning in, I pressed a brief kiss to his forehead, feeling him stiffen under me in shock.

  “Ethan,” he hissed. When I pulled back, he glared. “People will see.”

  “I don’t care.” My voice was mild. “I refuse to hurt you in order to offer comfort to people who don’t even matter.”

  Let them be uncomfortable. Let them be scandalized.

  “You weren’t hurting me.”

  “Well, I guess denying myself was hurting me.” I realized that probably made me sound selfish. Refocusing on Fletch, I asked, “Did I make you uncomfortable?”

  He shook his head, smiling.

  “Play well, my love. I’ll be listening to every note.”

  Fletcher turned toward the pianist, violin in hand, and I stepped toward the Cossgroves, who, to their credit, pretended they hadn’t seen.

  “Shall we get some champagne first?”

  “Please.” Samantha agreed.

  From across the room, I saw my parents gaze in my direction. I avoided it, not quite ready to pull on my mask of pretend.

  Halfway toward the hand-carved, one-of-a-kind bar, Fletcher started to play. Warmth pooled in my belly, my limbs loosened, and the tension I’d been carrying around all day released me.

  A quiet hush rippled through the room, momentarily silencing all the conversations taking place. I smiled secretly, knowing without even looking that everyone had stopped to stare.

  His talent preceded him, and the sound of his soul was unlike anything else in this world. I soaked it in for long moments, filling a well that had been steadily going dry. When I was reenergized, I turned back to my guests.

  “About that champagne…”

  But they weren’t interested in a glass of bubbly. In fact, they had all but forgotten I was there at all. The couple stood side by side, staring through the mingling guests in the direction from which we had just come.

  The set of their shoulders, the energy radiating around them, prickled over my skin, lifting the hair on my arm. Curious, I stepped around, looking at how intently they stared.

  Mesmerized. Moved. Practically in tears.

  A lump formed in my throat, and a weird, ominous feeling pressed close.

  I watched them stare at Fletcher, something akin to longing shimmering in their eyes. It was almost as though they were as affected by his playing as me.

  Almost as if it were familiar somehow.

  I realized something as I stared at them. The reaction I had when Samantha laughed just moments ago. Her giggle.

  It sounded just like Fletcher’s.

  45

  Fletcher

  * * *

  I didn’t know how long I played without looking up. Something I loved about the violin was the ability to get lost in it, to see and hear nothing else.

  The nerves I’d felt melted away. At first, I imagined playing only for Ethan, and then eventually, even he fell away until it was just the music.

  The moment I came back, though, the urge to look for him was there. The need to see his face and hopefully pride shining in his eyes. I might have challenged him earlier, declaring the need to be punished, but truly, above all, I wanted to be his good boy. I wanted him to be proud of me.

  Maybe because no one had ever been proud of me before. No one had ever so easily told me that I was good.

  Or maybe I just had a weird fetish that only E could unearth.

  Maybe it was both.

  The ballroom was full of guests now. It was easy to assume everyone had arrived. My eyes skipped through all the well-dressed elitists, avoiding any of their stares, and I tried to tune out all their conversations and laughter.

  As I sought
out Ethan, an uncomfortable feeling tickled deep in my throat. It was followed quickly by sharp panic, making my hand squeeze painfully around the bow.

  Not again. Please not here. Not now.

  I took a deep breath, exhaling through my nose, trying to calm my over-the-top nerves. Even with the effort, the prickling, uncomfortable feeling sat crouched inside, heckling me. All these fancy people, this violin in my hand, it all became stifling for a brief, terrifying moment.

  You are to never, ever play again!

  I squeezed my eyes shut, willing her horrible voice and memory to fade. A moment passed, and I resumed searching for Ethan, his visual even more important to find.

  Out of the corner of my eye, something hovered. I spun, following the shadow. But when I turned, nothing was there. Just glistening stone pillars, hand-carved wood trim, sparkling floors, and people I didn’t know.

  “Fletcher!” a voice called from close by. I spun, wishing it was Ethan, knowing it wasn’t.

  It was Henry and his wife. They made their way through a few couples, eyes and smiles intent on me. Samantha looked beautiful in a white and gold gown. Henry dressed in a deep-brown suit with a bowtie to match.

  They were very nice people, but they made me feel weird. They made something inside me churn uncomfortably. The feeling was almost painful and most definitely confusing. When she laughed earlier, it was like an echo, like my own laughter being played back to me. And the way they stared… It was like they were looking for something they could never find. Something that made me feel really bad that I didn’t have.

  “I have to say I am impressed!” Henry boasted the second he was within earshot. His smile beamed, and his cheeks were slightly flushed. “I knew you’d be talented because Ethan declared it, but, my boy, I never expected such passion!”

  My boy. Holding the violin in front of me, I smiled. “I’m very honored that you liked my playing.”

  “Truly, we didn’t just like it. We loved it!” Samantha extolled, reaching out her hand.

  I pulled back just slightly, suddenly so uncomfortable with the idea of being touched.

  “Oh, I apologize. I don’t know what I was thinking,” she said, dropping her hand immediately.