When they arrived at Abi’s apartment, Asher still didn’t have any answers. He pulled up in front of her apartment block and turned to her, waiting for her to decide what happened next.
“I still have half a bottle of wine . . .” she said.
Asher leaned over, cupping her cheeks. “I would love some.”
She looked him over. “I also have a spare change of clothes for you. We keep sets of clothing for those we rescue. There should be a men’s set that’ll fit. I’m just not sure they’ll be to your liking,” she said, biting her lip.
Asher grinned. “I’m sure they’ll be fine. Thank you.” He brushed his lips over hers before surveying the street. He turned off the car and looked in the rearview mirror for the car that had been there earlier, but it was gone.
Abi began to unwrap herself, but Asher stopped her. “Keep the blanket around your shoulders. It’s going to be freezing outside.” He cringed internally, knowing stepping outside of the car would feel like stepping into an arctic-cold shower. Whatever clothes Abi had, they would definitely be better than his soggy suit.
Asher unlocked the doors and they jumped out, running for the building and into the elevator. Asher was so cold his skin was stinging.
In the elevator, Abi removed the blanket and put it around him. “You look like you’re getting hypothermia.”
“Do I look that bad?” Asher asked with a laugh. “Thank you, but your wet blanket isn’t going to do much,” he said, wrapping it back around her shoulders.
Asher’s teeth were chattering by the time they walked into her apartment. He didn’t know if she’d left the heater on or if it just felt warm compared to the night air, but either way he was grateful.
“Come with me,” she said, taking his hand and leading him to the bathroom. “Here’s a towel. I’ll find you something to wear,” she said, making a move for the door.
But he caught her at the waist and pulled her into his arms. Her back was flush against his chest and she tilted her head to the side, opening her neck to him. His lips trailed up her delicate skin.
“I can’t get enough of you,” Asher whispered in a deep voice.
Abi stilled then turned in his arms. Another mixed signal. She brushed her lips over his and his hands found her ass. She shivered, and he didn’t know if it was because she was cold or because she was reacting to his touch. He hoped it was the latter, but he wasn’t foolish enough to ignore their circumstances. He let her go.
“Get into something warm,” he said.
She nodded. “And have a shower before you die of hypothermia. I really don’t want to have to explain Prince Asher’s death in my apartment,” she said with laughing eyes.
He chuckled at her horrible joke as he turned on the shower. Abi was still watching him as he took off his shirt, dropping it to the tiled floor.
It took her a moment to realize she was staring. She quickly turned, all but running for the door. “I’ll find some clothes for you.”
Asher smirked. If he was warm, clothes were unnecessary.
He took off his pants and stepped into the shower. The hot water stung his cold skin and he cringed, but after a minute the sensation settled and he tipped his head back, letting the water run over his body. He had no idea what time it was. When he was with Abi, she was an escape from his royal life. He felt normal, and he loved it.
How can I make this work?
He had to find a way to angle IFRT so that it didn’t stand in the way of them. Other than that, he honestly thought his parents would really like Abi. He couldn’t foresee any other objections.
The door opening and closing stole his attention. He peered out from the shower and saw a stack of clothes by the door. His eyes darted to the mirror, but it was so misty he couldn’t see his own reflection. As much as he wanted to stay in the warm shower all night, he didn’t want to waste a minute with Abi.
He quickly dried himself and then assessed the clothes she’d given him. He held them up and they seemed to be the right size. He put them on, and looked over himself. The jeans actually fit remarkably well, and although the gray sweater was a little tight, he supposed it could’ve looked much worse.
He followed the music to the kitchen, trying to recall the name of the band, but it didn’t come to him. The music was familiar to him, though, because he often heard Noah playing it.
Abi was standing at the stove with her back to Asher.
Silently, his footsteps muffled by his socks, he crept up behind her and wrapped his arms around her small waist.
“That’s better,” she said, tilting her head back and bringing her hips to his. His lips tingled where they touched, and he instantly hardened—which he was sure Abi could feel with her ass pressed against his hips.
She turned in his arms, seeming to look over him.
“The sweater’s a bit small,” she said with dancing eyes.
Asher held out his arm and the sleeve was a few inches from his wrist. “Could be worse,” he joked.
Abi giggled. “I apologize they’re not clothes fit for a prince, but you were the one who decided to dive into the swimming hole,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows.
Asher laughed. “The clothes are great, thank you.”
Asher didn’t regret diving into the swimming hole, or freezing his ass off the entire way back to Patmos. He didn’t regret anything tonight.
“I should take a photo of you and send it to Miller’s,” she said with sparkling eyes.
“Is that where they’re from?” Asher asked. He hadn’t checked the labels—he didn’t care. But he could admit he’d never worn clothes from the cheap, department store basement.
“Yes,” Abi said, unsuccessfully trying to suppress her laughter. “Rescues don’t care about labels, and we’d rather spend the money on their education or medical needs. So, they’re dressed courtesy of Miller’s.”
“Did Miller’s gift you the clothes?” Asher asked.
She bit her lip before laughing. “Yes, we take the stock they can’t sell.”
“Well, I’m going to wear this back to the palace and maybe the paparazzi will get a shot. These clothes,” he said, extending his arm, “are about to become best-sellers. Come tomorrow, mid-forearm length sleeves will be the new trend.”
“Oh gosh, have some wine,” Abi said through her laughter, passing him a glass.
“Thank you,” Asher said, taking the glass. He took a mouthful and then another. It was a really good wine. He noted the label on the bottle next to the stove.
“What are you making?” Asher asked, peering over her shoulder. His stomach rumbled when he saw the pan.
“Are you hungry? We didn’t actually eat dinner, so I thought I’d quickly make something. It should be ready in a few minutes,” she said, stirring the pasta through the sauce again.
“I’m starving,” he said, his voice lower than intended. Suddenly, he didn’t know if he was talking about the pasta or Abi—and he didn’t care.
He tilted her chin up, and she lifted her lips to his.
He thrust his tongue in her mouth, lost in the moment. His body hummed, his skin tingled, and he’d never felt like this before. He wanted her, and he was going to find a way to make it work.
Her hands moved underneath his sweater and explored his skin. A groan fell from his lips. Her touch was like ecstasy. His hands were on her waist and moving down. He wondered if he should stop, but Abi showed no signs of stopping when his phone rang.
Asher pulled back, sighing. They’d gone from zero to one hundred in three seconds flat, and his hard cock was begging for more.
His phone rang out but started ringing again.
“I need to get that,” Asher said with a sigh, momentarily forgetting where he’d left his phone before spotting it on the kitchen table.
Incoming call: Jesse.
“Hello?” Asher said heavily, knowing Jesse was going to be pissed about tonight.
“Asher, Noah’s in the hospital. He’s okay, but I thought you would like to be i
nformed,” Jesse said.
Asher straightened as panic jarred him. “What? Why? What happened?”
“He fell down the stairs,” Jesse said.
Asher frowned. “What stairs?”
“East wing,” Jesse said cryptically. “I think you should come to the hospital.”
“How did he do that?” Asher asked. Noah had been running up and down those stairs since he’d lived in the palace—it was the wing Noah lived in.
But it wasn’t what Jesse was saying, but how he said it: terse, and his voice muffled like he was talking under his breath as not to be overheard.
What had really happened?
“I’ll see you soon,” Asher said, hanging up.
Abi eyed him. “Is something wrong?”
“Noah fell down the stairs,” Asher said, quickly tucking his phone into his pocket. “I don’t know the details, but I need to go straight to the hospital.”
Abi’s eyes widened, and she nodded. “Of course. Let me know how he is.”
Asher kissed her forehead before rushing out of her apartment and toward his car.
Asher
Asher drove to the hospital with his accelerator flat to the ground. He pulled up directly out front—one of the perks of royalty—and followed the instructions Jesse had texted him while he was driving.
On the ward, Asher spotted Jesse and rushed toward him. “Where is he?”
“This way,” Jesse said, gesturing with his hand.
Asher was on his heels. “What have the doctors said?”
“That he was lucky,” Jesse said. “He has two cracked vertebrae and some tingling in his limbs, but he can feel them. The doctors think the sensation will settle with rest and rehabilitation.”
“Do they think he tripped?” Asher asked.
“He told them he tripped and remembered falling,” Jesse said, but Asher knew Jesse well enough to know he didn’t believe that. “I’ve checked the security cameras, but I couldn’t see him at the top of the staircase in the angles we have. I just saw him tumbling down the stairs.”
Jesse opened the door and Noah’s eyes darted in their direction. He seemed to visibly relax when he saw Asher.
“How are you?” Asher asked, sweeping his eyes over Noah. He had a cut on his forehead and another on his nose, but the doctor was right—he was lucky the injuries to his vertebrae hadn’t left him paralyzed.
Noah looked over Asher’s shoulder.
“Jesse, can you give us a few minutes?” Asher asked.
“Sure,” Jesse said with a nod.
Asher sat on the side of the bed. When the door closed, Noah returned his gaze to Asher.
“How are you feeling?” Asher asked.
“Sore. The pain meds are good, though,” Noah said with a weak smirk. “Did they tell you what happened?”
“Yeah, they said you tripped,” Asher said slowly. “On what? You’ve run up and down those steps a million times. The doctor thinks it’s a miracle you didn’t end up paralyzed or dead.”
“Then someone will be very disappointed,” Noah whispered, looking directly into Asher’s eyes. His gaze darted to the door again and back to Asher.
“Noah, talk to me. What are you saying?”
Noah swallowed. “I didn’t trip, Ash. I was pushed.”
“Who pushed you?” Asher asked quickly.
Noah shook his head. “I don’t know, but I remember feeling two hands on my back. I didn’t trip—I couldn’t be more sure.”
“Jesse said he reviewed the security tapes, but couldn’t see you at the top of the stairs. He saw you falling, though.”
“I don’t know what else to say, other than I’m sure of it,” Noah said. “I didn’t hear anything, but I vaguely remember the smell of cologne. I can’t tell you who it was, but it was a male—unless a female was wearing men’s cologne.”
“Then I’m going to get a list of everyone in the palace at that time and have security find out where they were. Anyone near the east wing will be investigated. I need to tell someone about this, though. Let me tell Jesse at least,” Asher pleaded. He didn’t know where to begin with an investigation like that.
“Okay,” Noah said with a hint of reluctance. “I wanted to talk to you before I told him. It’s a big accusation to make.”
It was, and Asher knew Noah would never make such an accusation unless he was absolutely sure.
“Have you spoken to Alistair today?” Noah asked.
“No, why?”
“Because he’s pissed. I heard him screaming on the phone. I don’t know who he was talking to, but he said you’re overstepping your boundaries and you should never have gone to the protests without him.”
Asher raised an eyebrow. “He should’ve thought to go himself, and I did call him, but he was too busy to answer.”
“Be careful of him, Asher. I’m not sure how stable he is,” Noah said.
“Do you think he pushed you?” Asher asked with a sinking sensation in his stomach. He remembered the feeling he’d had when he’d walked out of his brother’s room a few days ago.
“No, he wasn’t there,” Noah said. “I heard his car tires squealing when he drove off after his tantrum.”
Just because Alistair hadn’t been there didn’t mean he hadn’t been involved. Asher didn’t think his brother capable of murder, but he might be capable of ordering someone else to do it.
Asher moved toward the door. He stuck his head out, motioning Jesse in.
“I need to tell you something,” Asher whispered. He trusted Jesse—the man had been his bodyguard for the past six years and had worked for his father for as long as Asher could remember. “Noah didn’t trip, he was pushed, and I need you to discreetly find out who did it.”
Jesse’s face remained impassive. This didn’t come as a surprise to him. “Are you absolutely sure?” he asked Noah.
“There’s no doubt,” Noah said. “I didn’t tell you because I wanted to talk to Asher first.”
Jesse returned his gaze to Asher. “What do you want me to do when I find out who it was?”
“I’ll get back to you on that,” Asher said, but what he was really thinking was: Push that person down the stairs, and hopefully they won’t have Noah’s “luck.”
Noah’s head sunk into the pillow and his eyelids drooped. It looked like the pain meds and sedation were working nicely.
“Get some rest,” Asher said. “I’ll sort this out.”
Asher gestured for Jesse to follow him into the hallway.
“Don’t speak a word of this to anyone,” Asher said under his breath. “I want whoever did this to think Noah can’t remember what happened and thinks he must’ve tripped.”
Asher feared that if the person didn’t think that, he might come back to finish the job.
Jesse nodded. “I’ll increase security here too. We have his back, Asher.”
Asher nodded himself, then yawned. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a proper night’s sleep.
“Give me five minutes, then we can leave,” Jesse said, pulling out his phone.
Asher sat in one of the chairs lining the hallway and rested his elbows on his knees.
Why would someone push Noah?
What would they gain from hurting him?
Noah didn’t have a royal title, and he wasn’t a power threat.
Had he done something to offend someone?
Asher couldn’t think of anything Noah could’ve done—and anyway, everyone loved Noah. He was easygoing, carefree, and he’d lived in the palace the majority of his life without ever causing trouble or being involved in an incident.
Had he been pushed by mistake—or had someone thought Noah was Asher? They did share the same living quarters.
Asher felt cold and the hairs on his arms stood up. Alistair might not have been there, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t involved. He thought of Alistair again and wondered if it was too convenient he’d thrown a tantrum and left the palace, ultimately creating an alibi.
His phone rang again, and he wasn’t surprised to see it was his mother calling.
“Mother,” Asher said.
“How is he?” she asked quickly.
“Seems to be okay,” Asher said. He trusted his mother, but he wanted more information before he said anything to anyone.
“I felt sick when I heard. I’m on my way,” she said.
“Okay. I’ll see you soon,” Asher said, stifling another yawn.
A few minutes later, a man in a white coat with a stethoscope hanging around his neck approached Asher. “Prince Asher, I’m Dr. Robert Morgan. I’m looking after Noah.”
Asher extended his hand.
“Noah cracked two vertebrae during his fall, but I believe he will make a full recovery. He will need medication for the pain, and plenty of rest with limited movement. Once I clear him to move again, we’ll need to get him into a rehabilitation program to rebuild the muscles in his hips, back, and abdominals that will weaken during his rest phase.”
Asher nodded. “Noah will have whatever support he needs.”
Dr. Morgan nodded and excused himself, disappearing into Noah’s room.
“Asher,” the Queen said from behind him.
“Hi, Mother. He’s in here,” Asher said, extending his hand toward the door. Without another word, she walked straight in, closing the door behind her.
Asher sank down in one of the chairs outside the room. What had happened at the palace? And why had Noah been the target?
Asher was lost in his thoughts when his mother emerged, casting her assessing gaze over him.
“What are you wearing?” she asked, her eyebrows threading together.
Asher sighed. “It’s a long story.”
The Queen frowned. “Did housekeeping shrink your sweater? Have you been walking around looking like this?” She shook her head. “This is not a good look, Asher.”
Asher hid his smile. “I didn’t intend to be seen in public tonight.”
“Obviously,” she said, deadpan.
Asher looked to Jesse. “I’ll go home with Mother. Stay with Noah,” Asher said. He didn’t want to leave Noah alone and unprotected, especially while he was sedated.
Jesse nodded.
Blood, Love and Lies Page 10