Beauty and the Bastard: A Royal Bad Boy Romance

by Annette Fields

  And how did he seem to know exactly what I needed before even I did?

  "You fancy him!"

  Scarlett's shriek rocked me out of the memory and into the present.

  Shit.

  "I do not! Not like that."

  "Bullshit! I can see your little smile and that faraway look in your eye. You totally want his body." Scarlett's grin grew as wide as her face while I sat frozen like a deer in headlights.

  "Even if I did, it could never work," I protested.

  "Nonsense. In any case, you certainly don't have to marry him. But a man with his... experience can definitely show you a good time."

  "What do you mean?"

  Scarlett shot a look at me. "You know what I mean, Stel. I know you're not that naive."

  My face grew hot as I remembered falling into Gavin's arms like a clumsy goon. I wanted to die from embarrassment but feeling his hard, broad muscles under my hands did something to me.

  A magnet pulled our bodies together and it took all my strength to pull away. Seeing and smelling him up close only drew me in, eager for more of simply him. At every lesson, he's been cool as a cucumber but I've been fighting that pull ever since.

  But the thought of sleeping with him? Seeing him naked, or worse, him seeing me naked?

  I’d definitely find a way to make a fool of myself and he’d never want to see me again. Growing up, Janie and my mother warned me about men who use women and leave them.

  "I could never do that, Scar. Not casually, anyway."

  "I'm not saying have a one-nighter with him. There's shades of grey between casual sex and saving your virginity for your husband, you know." Scarlett sipped her tea knowingly. "The modern world is moving past those ridiculous, outdated customs, anyway."

  Maybe it was old-fashioned or unfeminist of me, but I did want to save my first time for someone special. Someone who I loved and felt beyond any doubt that he loved me back. As a young teenager harboring an intense crush on Prince Alex, I believe so strongly that it would be him.

  After he rescued me from exile and married me, we would give our virginities to each other. Our love would be pure and unmarred by anyone else.

  But after meeting Gavin, I realized the prince didn't awaken that raw, physical need in me like Gavin did.

  And Gavin was anything but pure and unmarred.

  He was rough, dirty, and everything bad for me. And I was attracted to it like a bee to a flower. The prince was nothing but a naive, girlish fantasy.

  Gavin was so real, raw and exciting. It scared me how excited and alive he made me feel.

  Scarlett's hand reached across the tea table to hold mine when she saw me lost in thought again.

  "I just want you to be happy, Stella," she said, almost pleading. "Whatever happens between your family and the queen, I want you to see you live your life for yourself. If you want something, take it." Her face turned serious. "That's a direct order from your princess."

  I giggled. "As you wish, Your Highness." How lucky I was to have such a good friend supporting me. "But that doesn't mean I want to hop in bed with your half-brother."

  "You don't know what you're missing, Stel," Scarlett said with a sly wink. “Getting laid does wonders for your skin, you know.”

  I had guessed she wasn't a virgin but that pretty much confirmed it. She was right that saving virginity for marriage was becoming outdated but royal women are held to a stricter, more traditional standard. I'd never judge her for it but if I had any chance of becoming a royal Lady again, I was not going to take any chances.

  "So who've you banged?" I blurted.

  Scarlett's eyes nearly popped out of her head as she choked on her tea. "My goodness! I never thought I'd hear such a question come out of your mouth!"

  "I'm learning a bit from Gavin, too," I admitted. "He says I should speak my mind more often."

  "Well, well," Scarlett mused as she regained her composure. "He just may rub off on you yet."

  CHAPTER 10

  STELLA

  How to describe the feeling in my chest when I approached Gavin’s front door?

  The first week went by in a flash. My stomach still flip-flopped but I no longer wanted to run away. Instead, I had a spring in my step and a smile on my face. I realized I looked forward to seeing him and talking to him.

  Sure, he was still a pain in my ass and difficult to teach sometimes but he also made me laugh. He made me feel like I could be myself. When I got frustrated at his screwing around, he surprised me with how much he did pay attention. He absorbed everything like a sponge but in his own way.

  We tackled all the boring stuff and got it out of the way already. This week signaled the beginning of Appropriate Public Behavior, which meant touching. And dancing.

  Even though I grew more comfortable with him, a flutter of nervousness pulsed throughout my body as I knocked on his door at the start of that second week. My stupid crush on him was growing into something even more dangerous and foolish: hope.

  “Come in, Stel! It’s open,” Gavin called through the door.

  I stepped inside to the familiar smell of fresh-brewed coffee and the sight of his perfectly chiseled form smiling at me from across the counter.

  My heart skipped a beat and my knees weakened. Every day I came over, I felt weaker when looking at him. A few curls of damp hair fell over his forehead like he just showered. He wore an unbuttoned henley shirt that hugged every muscle and exposed an inch of chest hair at the base of his throat. I wanted to believe his smile meant that he enjoyed seeing me as much as I did him. But with my luck in life, that was highly unlikely.

  “You don’t have to knock anymore, you know. You’re always welcome here,” he said as he folded his newspaper and put it aside. I felt so entranced by his face and body I didn’t even notice he was reading one.

  “Seems a bit rude to just walk in,” I said, picking up my cup of coffee waiting for me on the counter. I took a cautious sip and smiled. It was exactly the right temperature.

  “Not that I’ve given you permission now,” he replied. “That’s how we common folks do it. We open our homes to each other once we’ve established trust.”

  “You trust me?” I tried to make it sound like a joke but I was truly taken aback.

  “Of course I do.” His dark eyes looked straight through me. “I know there’s plenty you haven’t told me but that’s okay. You have your reasons for not telling me things and I respect that.”

  I gulped. He knew about Janie but not the full extent of my family’s exile, nor did he know that everything we stood for rode on him learning this material. Yet somehow that seemed so trivial.

  He seemed to know me on a deeper level. Not as a rich girl trying to get her original wealth and status back, but as a person. Just me, Stella. He knew what made me laugh, what pushed my buttons, and how I liked my coffee.

  So many unknowns still hung in the air. If Gavin was accepted into the royal family—and that was a big if— what would change between us, if anything? One look at him and every royal Lady with a pulse would flock to court him. Chances were he wouldn’t even remember I existed.

  “Gavin,” I started. “Once this is all over-,”

  “Don’t,” he stopped me. “You don’t have to explain anything now, Stella. There’s still so much we don’t know. But whatever happens, I do hope we can still be friends.”

  Friends. That word felt like a sting and a relief simultaneously. My hope popped and deflated like a pricked balloon.

  Clearly, he didn’t feel the same magnetic pull between us as I did and that hurt. A lot. But at least I knew.

  “Of course we will,” I answered with a strained smile.

  He returned my smile and the sting in my heart twisted and throbbed. “So what are we doing today?”

  I steeled myself, returning my focus to the job at hand. The only thing that mattered.

  “Appropriate Public Behavior.”

  “Sounds kinky.”

  “Very much so,” I r
eplied with a smirk. Dishing back on his jokes became second nature to me. We bantered like an old married couple.

  “This whole week will be about how to conduct yourself at highly public events such as the charity ball coming up. We’ll have to get you up to speed on dancing and walking with your escort.”

  “Escorts? Well, I’m all ears, baby.”

  “Ah!” I tapped him on the nose with a finger like a disobedient pet.

  “No pet names, I know.” He grabbed my hand and shot me a devilish grin. “You’re just adorable when you’re strict...baby.” Then he opened his mouth and playfully bit down on my finger.

  My face and core heated instantly like a gas fire. His grip on my hand was gentle but my entire body felt like it was being tortured. Every hair on my skin stood on end and my nerves sent desperate, needy signals to my brain.

  The simplest touch from him made me ache for more like I needed air to breathe. I wanted him to possess me, comfort me and somehow take all of this mounting stress and pain away.

  But to him, I was just a friend.

  CHAPTER 11

  GAVIN

  "Keep your elbow at a 90-degree angle even if it means your hand is barely on my waist. Let's go again."

  “Seems like you need to step closer to me, then," I observed.

  Stella ignored me and looked up at the clock. "Ready and...one, two, three."

  We twirled slowly in a ridiculous ballroom dance throughout my kitchen and living room for the thousandth time. Our bodies spun stiffly around like orbiting planets.

  These dances were just as stupid as they looked on TV. So many rules and so much structure that didn't mean anything. It didn't even pretend to be fun or sexy like salsa dancing.

  But at least my eyes remained locked onto Stella's and my fingers nestled into the curve of her waist.

  Fuck me, she was so beautiful. We could've been thrown to a pack of hungry wolves and I'd still be content to look at her and touch her in some small way.

  Unfortunately, this dance required at least one foot of space between partners.

  "What's the point of this dance again?" I asked her.

  "It was created by the first settlers of Amberfall," she huffed. "It’s been carried on for centuries at all kinds of celebratory events."

  "So it was invented during the the Middle Ages."

  "And?"

  "It seems really... boring?"

  "Well, it's tradition. The royal family is really big on maintaining traditions."

  "So are they still big on owning slaves and treating women as property?"

  "Of course not!" Stella stopped the dance abruptly and crossed her arms in front of her chest. Silently, I mourned the loss of heat from her skin under my fingers. "Things have changed for the better. But traditions like dance don't harm anyone. It's part of our culture, Gavin."

  "For those who could afford it," I retorted.

  Her shoulders sagged as she sighed deeply.

  Fuck, how I wanted to pull her into me and make her melt even more. Some of her traditional views infuriated me but most of the time I loved her snark and how she never put herself above common people.

  "You're going to have to accept some of these things, Gavin. You'll have to dance like a robotic penguin and hold your tongue when you want to curse. Do you realize you'll never be able to drink coffee again? At least, not in front of other royals."

  "Fuck that, I quit." I threw my hands up in mock surrender. Stella scowled at me but she knew I was joking.

  The charity ball was tomorrow night. This was the last lesson she would ever teach me.

  "You'll have to sacrifice a lot of personal freedoms, but you'll gain so much power and influence to do good for the common people."

  "Stop. You sound like my siblings now," I said, perhaps a bit too harshly. Stella flinched as if my words physically struck a nerve and I regretted my tone.

  "You should listen to them,” she replied sternly. “They're the future of Amberfall and the best shot everyone has."

  "You're right. I'm sorry."

  I took one step closer to her and she took one tiny step back, refusing to look me in the eye again.

  Fuck, why did she do that? Did she still think I was a scary brute after all this time? Or did she not feel the same hypnotic attraction that I did?

  "It's just, what's the point of sacrificing personal freedom for power and fancy shit? Isn't that a basic human right?" I asked.

  She looked right at me and lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. "That's just life as a royal. Your life doesn't belong to you. It belongs to the country."

  I took a deep breath as my heart rate accelerated into overdrive. "I still don't like that I had essentially no choice in this. But I'm glad it brought me to you."

  Stella blushed that adorable pink hue as she smiled. It made me want to push her against the wall and taste that sweet smile over and over again.

  "Like you said, we'll always stay friends after all this."

  Fuck. Friends. Why did my dumbass use that word? I didn't want to come onto her too strongly, but I did a great job of friend-zoning myself instead.

  Way to fucking go, Gavin.

  "Hey, let’s grab a drink at the pub," I said. "To celebrate making a royal out of me. I'm buying."

  "Oh no, I can't," Stella protested immediately and my heart sank. I thought it could be a chance to get closer, emotionally as well as physically and she turned it down like she would prefer to do anything else.

  "Come on, Stel. Just one drink," I pleaded. "I've got to repay you for all the work and time you spent on me."

  "No, sorry. I mean, I'd like to. It sounds silly but I really shouldn't be out late." She seemed visibly nervously suddenly, stammering and gathering her things to leave as she kept tucking her hair back and avoiding eye contact.

  "You don't drink?"

  "Sometimes, but my driver will be worried if I'm out at a bar." She smiled weakly. "Sorry, I'm boring like that."

  "You're not boring at all," I insisted. "Exactly the opposite. You fascinate me, Stella."

  She finally looked up at me and that just about killed me. I fought every nerve in my body dying to reach out and touch her.

  "It's been fun, Gavin. I'm glad we met, too," she replied. "You know everything that can help you now. What you do with it is up to you."

  Before she could resist, I reached out and pulled her into a hug. The sweet smell of her hair filled my nostrils as her body nestled into mine. She never resisted at all, but instead wrapped her arms around my back.

  With her head nuzzled under my chin and my arms encircled around her slender shoulders, we fit together like two puzzle pieces. Our hearts beat against each other in complementing rhythms.

  We fit perfectly against each other. How could she not feel there was something between us?

  I only prayed that she couldn't feel my boner which had risen to full mast just from feeling her warmth so close, searing into me like we were one.

  All too soon, she pulled away from me. Her fingers slid down my back to brush along my sides, sending shivers up my spine. That lingering touch gave me hope that she didn’t want to let go.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, barely above a whisper. “A car will pick you up about noon so be ready.”

  “Why so early? I thought the event wasn’t until eight?”

  “You’ll need to be measured for your suit. Plus a shave, haircut, and facial,” she replied as if I were a five-year-old.

  “I should have known,” I sighed, rubbing the week-old stubble on my jaw. It had been a long time since I truly shaved and gotten a haircut. Whether at the docks or at the bar, I never needed to primp to impress somebody.

  “You’ll be great,” Stella said as she moved toward my door to leave. “We’re all behind you. Alex, Scar, and I.”

  “Thanks.” I swallowed. I should have been a gentleman and opened the door for her, but I didn’t want her to go. I wanted time to stop, to forget that tomorrow would ever come
and just let Stella invade my senses.

  “Get some sleep.” She cracked the door and gave me one last look before stepping out.

  “Yeah, right.”

  “Good night, Gavin.” And with that, she was gone.

  I didn’t feel like hitting the bars alone that night, so I poured myself some whiskey and drank deeply while I tried to calm my nerves.

  My life would change forever tomorrow. All because of that bitch queen. No rhyme or reason, it all depended on what she felt like doing.

  My mother.

  She was no mother to me, just an incubator. And my father just a sperm donor, apparently.

  I poured another dram and swallowed, savoring the fire in my throat. Tomorrow, for the first time, I would meet the woman who gave birth to me. I would have to win her approval by putting on a show for her.

  The more I drank and stewed in my thoughts, the more pissed off I became. Good thing I was alone. I felt like punching a motherfucker in the face.

  It pissed me off that good people like Alex and Scar were powerless. It pissed me off that Stella was forced into this game while her dying nanny was held hostage.

  “FUCK this shit!” I swung my arm with all my strength and let my glass fly. It shattered somewhere in the corner of my kitchen.

  But what pissed me off the most was that our culture, our tradition, determined that Stella was too good to be with me, all because of the circumstances of how we were born.

  CHAPTER 12

  GAVIN

  The sleek, black car arrived for me right at noon just as Stella said it would. After smashing my glass the night before, I finished the bottle by drinking straight from it and passed out on top of my bed.

  I answered the door disheveled and hungover like I normally would for anybody else. The crisp gentleman from the palace was not amused but he led me out anyway. Two guards stepped in behind me as I exited my apartment building. I didn’t know whether to feel like a prince or a prisoner.

  No one spoke a word in the car and I didn’t try to make small talk. My hangover screaming bloody murder in my brain drowned out enough of the world as it was.