Don't Tell

by Violet Paige

  “Maybe he’ll be a pilot. Please don’t let him join the Air Force.”

  “Corps all the way.” I grinned, slapping him on the back.

  “Good.”

  The big homecoming party was tomorrow. We decided Ryan needed to know ahead of time. We couldn’t ask Kaitlyn’s parents to keep our secret.

  “Listen, man. I’ve got to tell you something.”

  Ryan turned to face me. His skin was unusually tan. “Don’t tell me you knocked up another girl.”

  I grimaced. “No, but there’s a girl.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “A serious girl? Does she know about Grayson?”

  I nodded. “She does. And Amber. And the Dunes. She knows everything.”

  He tilted his head. “She knows all your baggage and she’s still around?”

  “I don’t think there’s anyone else like her. She’s amazing. And gorgeous. She accepts all of it.”

  “Don’t tell me she gives you blow jobs every day too. Because I haven’t fucked a girl in a year.”

  I wasn’t going there. “I was going to say, and she still loves me.”

  He blinked. “Love? Shit. I have missed a lot. Never thought Cole Thomas would say that.”

  “You might want to finish your drink to hear the rest of this.”

  Ryan looked at me. “What is it?”

  “The girl is Kaitlyn.”

  I should have known it was coming. I should have braced myself or even ducked. But the punch was fast and furious.

  Ryan slugged me, knocking me on my ass.

  He stood over me. “Mother fucker. You did not just tell me you’re fucking my sister.”

  I rubbed my jaw.

  “I love your sister, asshole.”

  “Ryan!” Kaitlyn ran outside. She leaned down to help me, but I shrugged her off and stood on my own.

  “Are you ok, Cole?”

  “I’m fine.” I turned to Ryan who looked like he could throw a second punch. “Man, it’s not like the past. This is different.”

  He stared at Kaitlyn. “Him? You want to be with him?”

  She nodded. “Please don’t be mad. And please stop punching him.”

  “I can’t fucking believe this.” He spun in a circle on the patio.

  I looked through the glass as the Sinclaires ushered Grayson into another room.

  “I love your sister. And I know how it sounds. I’m a dick. But I love her. And this is what we want. You know I’ll take care of her. I’ll keep her safe. I swear to you. I swear on my life I won’t let her get hurt.

  “We hope you can accept it eventually. Not tonight, but one day. You’ll stop hating my guts and wanting to beat the hell out of me.”

  Kaitlyn looked at him. “Please, Ryan.”

  He sighed. “Damn it.”

  He extended his hand toward me.

  I took it.

  And I knew from then on we were going to be ok.

  34

  Kaitlyn

  Grayson slept on my lap as we flew home. Home. I couldn’t believe Texas was going to be my new home. Cole wore earbuds and watched a movie. No surprise it was a military one.

  I ran my hands through Grayson’s hair. It was starting to get long on the ends. But it was cute and shaggy.

  I’d be lying if I said Ryan was completely happy with our news, but after a full weekend together and chance for him to finally get some sleep, he seemed to accept it.

  My parents were so enamored with being potential step-grandparents, they glossed over the entire relationship. I could only imagine what it would be like when I had a baby of my own.

  Looking at the child sleeping in my lap, I knew I loved him as if he were my own. I didn’t know that kind of love existed. But it did. I could feel it.

  I didn’t want to replace Amber or erase her. Cole had told me enough to expect her return. She’d always been in Grayson’s life, which didn’t know how she’d appear. And maybe once she traveled and grew the hell up, she’d be ready to be a mother.

  I already was.

  I smiled. Cole folded his strong hand over mine.

  We were headed home to our cute beach house. Where Cole and I would spend nights with the sliding door open, drowning out the sounds of sex. Our passion had only just begun. We’d work together during the day, and we’d raise Grayson. Making sure he had all the love and happiness this world could give him.

  The flight attendant walked by. “Miss, you need to return your seat to the upright position.”

  I nodded. “No problem.”

  Who knew when I flew to Texas on my own that I’d end up with everything I ever wanted.

  Keep reading for additional bonus stories by Violet Paige.

  Tempting the Crown

  1

  Damon

  The bourbon was watered down. I flicked my wrist, washing it over the melted flecks of ice. I looked around, bored. That was the problem. I bored easily.

  A waiter walked by without glancing at my table. It had always been the fucking deal in this place, though. They treated me like every other guy in here. They didn’t cater to one of us over the other. As if we were normal. As if we weren’t rich as sin. As if I didn’t own the entire country.

  We existed under a cloak of secrecy. The façade that inside these walls we were on an equal playing field. Maybe there was some truth to that for one night a month. Gala night.

  I slung back the last swallow of the hundred-dollar glass of booze. I pushed back from my chair, straightening my legs standing just shy of six-five. It wasn’t easy to blend in, even if people were committed to ignoring me. I knocked on the black door behind the bar. I waited for someone to let me in. The incessant bass pumping through the speakers drowned out the hammering of my fist. It was loud as fuck in here.

  “Damn it.” I gritted my teeth, pounding again. I wasn’t patient.

  The door cracked enough that I could see a sliver of the stage. It was dark.

  A stooge who couldn’t have been more than twenty stood in my way. I tapped at my watch. There was a chance it cost more than ten cars in the parking lot. “You’re running late.” I kept my voice low.

  He nodded. “I know. I’m sorry, your m—”

  I put my hand up to stop him. “I have a reservation tonight,” I reminded him.

  He looked over his shoulder nervously. “There have been a few setbacks,” he reported.

  “Setbacks?” I cocked my eyebrow. When had The Titan had a setback?

  “I assure you we’ll start any minute. I can personally escort you.”

  I didn’t want to hear the excuses. I didn’t tolerate them no matter the circumstances.

  I exhaled. “That won’t be necessary. You have five minutes,” I warned. “Or I’m leaving. I don’t need to waste my time.”

  “I’ll let them know.” He closed the door with a solid shove.

  I turned for my table. Ashford Grant was a few feet behind me. He smirked. If I didn’t know better his tattered jeans and T-shirt suggested he was a man who was out for a round with his buddies.

  “I see you escaped for the night.” He tipped a drink toward me.

  I scowled. “It’s never easy.”

  He looked over my shoulder at the guards standing by the front entrance. Their arms were crossed. They scanned every guest who walked past. They didn’t give a shit that every person in the club was a member. You couldn’t walk through the front doors without a signed contract. Correction—a hefty deposit and a signed contract.

  There were standards for all members.

  “You can’t shake those two?” he asked.

  “They go where I go.”

  “That goes with the territory I guess.”

  I needed another drink. I eyed the bartender. He nodded, recognizing the gesture and poured a second bourbon. He knew which bottle I had selected for the night.

  I liked expensive smooth bourbons that took decades to distill. The Titan imported my favorite from the States to keep on hand for nights like this.<
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  “It’s been a few months, hasn’t it?”

  “Six,” I answered. “Sutcliffe has been a bastard lately.”

  Ashford laughed. “I’m glad I don’t have to deal with that shit. I don’t know how you do it.”

  Was I supposed to answer? Tell him sometimes the walls closed around me. The burden was suffocating. There were days I considered hiding under a ball cap and hopping aboard one of the catamarans in the marina. Sail the hell out of here. Ashford was one of my oldest friends, but even he didn’t have privy to those thoughts.

  “Do you have the tally?” I changed the subject.

  Ashford reached in his back pocket, withdrawing a narrow but thick sheet of paper. He handed it to me.

  “Not much on there tonight,” he added.

  The bartender walked around the edge of the counter, carrying the aged bourbon. “Here you go, sir.” He nodded.

  “Thank you.”

  I scanned the tally. “Why is the bottom blank?” I looked at my friend.

  “Hell if I know,” Ashford huffed. “And they’re late. I’m going to talk to Lesage. He can’t expect us to come back if this is how gala nights are being run.”

  I gripped his upper arm firmly. “We’ll just take our investments elsewhere.” I eyed him.

  Ashford’s eyes narrowed. “It’s a shame. Freychon needed a place like this.”

  “I agree. We all needed it. But he’s not up to the task. Come on. My driver can drop you somewhere.”

  I was prepared to leave. Admit tonight was a loss. A wasted night, trying to feed my dark habits.

  Ashford followed me toward my security guards. The bass lowered and the lights flickered.

  “Wait.” I stopped him.

  “Want to turn around?”

  I handed the tally back to him. “Let’s take a look.” I nodded toward the black door.

  “I’m just a loyal follower,” he ribbed.

  I silenced him with an icy glare. Friend or not.

  2

  Molly

  Snap. Snap. Fingers clicked inches from my nose.

  I blinked.

  “Did you hear me, cher?”

  I nodded in a fog. “Yes.”

  Brooklyn poked me in the ribs. “He’s trying to tell us how it works.”

  I realized his purpose, only I couldn’t believe I was going along with this. The stage manager wore a headset. He blended French and Spanish so frequently it was hard to follow. Although, I learned most citizens of Galona mixed the languages.

  “I-I don’t know about this.” I fidgeted in line in front of my best friend.

  “Smile and have fun,” she instructed. “This is a once in a lifetime chance. Bucket list, remember?”

  I twisted my lips together. “Right. The Galona bucket list.”

  The short wiry man had moved on to the girls behind us. I heard his sharp voice instructing them to follow an order of events.

  “I don’t think I can do it.” I shook my head. “I’m going to head back to the apartment. Ok?”

  Brooklyn caught my shoulders. “No, you’re not. Until tonight I thought this place was an urban legend. But it’s not. It’s real, Molly. You can’t just walk out on this chance. It’s legendary.”

  I nodded. “I can. I’ll tear up the contract on my way out.”

  She frowned. “I’m not going to let you do that. There is an excellent chance on the other side of that curtain there’s a member of the royal family. And you are guaranteed whether he’s royalty, that he’s going to be a multi-millionaire. An oil tycoon. A wine baron. A celebrity. It’s going to be a celebrity. I just have this feeling.” Her brown eyes sparkled with excitement.

  I knew mine didn’t look like that. My stomach flipped itself into one more knot. I was on the verge of panic, not an adrenaline rush. I sucked air through my nostrils.

  “I’m going to be sick. I can’t do it. I have to get out of here.”

  I pivoted on my heels for the back exit, but ran square into the tiny man with the headset. I heard someone call him Luc. Nametags probably weren’t permitted in a place that existed on its secrecy.

  “No, no, cherie. This way.” He jerked me back to the line and shoved me forward.

  Brooklyn giggled. “It’s going to be awesome. I promise. It’s guaranteed.”

  “I-I changed my mind,” I tried to explain. “You’re going to have to do it without me.”

  But it was too late. The line had lurched forward, carrying me with it. Two more steps and I was on stage.

  I squinted as the spotlight smacked me in the face.

  “Smile,” Brooklyn whispered behind me, prodding me forward. “Look natural. And blink, damn it.”

  My feet felt clunky and imbalanced as I inched across the stage. I didn’t know whether to meet the audience head on or pretend they weren’t there. I dared a glance, but the lights were too bright. The faces were dark, blanketed in splotchy shadows.

  I followed the brunette in front of me. Her hair was styled with tight ringlets that bounced when she walked. They weren’t the only thing bouncing. She was practically falling out of her top. I guessed she was using dress tape to keep herself tucked in. I knew my outfit didn’t wow the audience. A fitted denim skirt, topped by a soft white T-shirt. Brooklyn said it looked sweet, but I knew she wanted me to change. I stood next to the brunette as we formed a single row against the curtain.

  Brooklyn whispered in my ear. “We’re actually doing this. We’re in The Titan.”

  I wished I had some of her giddiness instead of the nausea that attacked me in prickly waves. My palms were sticky.

  “Please examine your tallies,” the MC instructed. “The gala has begun.” He wacked a gavel on a marble pedestal, announcing the beginning of my nightmare.

  My shoulders jerked at the startling sound. I swallowed softly.

  “I would like to invite our attendees to await their tally number before returning.” His accent was thick. I couldn’t place it. He might not have been a native Galonian.

  Why did I care where he was from? Why was I trying to study dialect as if I had a linguistics degree? I was going to be paraded in front of the audience a second time, only this time it would be alone. I had to walk without shaking. Without my ankles buckling. Without puking on the polished floor. That’s what I should focus on.

  “Molly, let’s go.” Brooklyn kicked me with a slight tap of her hip and I turned for the doorway.

  As soon as we were backstage I exhaled and bent forward, gripping my knees.

  “Did you see anyone?” she asked. “Maybe one of the princes? I heard there might be a director here. Did you recognize any of them?”

  I shook my head. “The lights were too bright.” I looked up. “How did you hear about a director?” I hadn’t seen her speak to anyone else. As soon as we arrived we were ushered into a room where someone explained the contents of the non-disclosure contact we were required to sign.

  We also had the option of having our hair and makeup touched up and a complimentary glass of champagne, but only one. I wished I had accepted it. Drinking beyond that was prohibited.

  She shrugged. “One of the girls in the back said they’re shooting a movie in Harwina. It’s a possibility.”

  “That’s an hour from here.” Talking helped. Concentrating on facts. Miles between cities. Those things cleared my head. I tried to picture the road from Freychon to Harwina. I had been there once.

  “But this is The Titan.” She beamed. “It’s legendary.”

  “Right. Legendary,” I whispered.

  “Cherie, cherie, it is time.”

  “Oh no. No. No. No.” I shook my head.

  I was surprised at how strong he was for having such a slight build. Within seconds he had nudged me forward and the spotlight landed on my feet.

  “Tally seven-seven-seven.” The MC’s voice rang clear as he announced my number.

  “Oh shit,” I whispered. There was a hand on the small of my back as I was thrust on the stage.
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  The MC cleared his throat. “Shall we begin?”

  It started rapidly.

  I tried to follow the voices as they called out, but in the pit of darkness it was impossible. Some sounded older than other. I even heard an American or two mixed in. I squinted, feeling my heart race. I tried to ground myself. I tried to breathe.

  I tried to pretend that auctioning myself off for a night to Galona’s secret society was exactly what I wanted to do.

  3

  Damon

  “That is the one,” Ashford suggested, pointing to the next number on his ticket. It was creased down the middle. I don’t know why he didn’t just leave it on the table instead of folding it in his pocket in between tenders. “Your type. I can tell.”

  I was impatient. Tonight’s tally wasn’t impressive. None of them held my attention. They were all the same. Cleavage. Poufy hair. More makeup than a cover model. At this point I didn’t know what would hold my attention. Did I think another gala would give me something? Push me? Excite me? A six-month break hadn’t awakened a renewed interest.

  “I don’t have a type.” I strummed my fingers on the table.

  “That could change after tonight.”

  “I didn’t see her,” I admitted. He was referring to seven-seven-seven.

  “Invest,” he coaxed.

  “I have invested plenty in this country,” I snapped.

  Ashford’s eyes rolled toward the ceiling. “Fine. Then I’ll invest.”

  I picked up my bourbon. Malcom Caron continued with his description of the next tally. I listened indifferently. I didn’t care where she was from or what her favorite movie was. Ashford could have her. He could have all of them. It had taken too long to get to this point. Tonight’s gala was a complete fuck up. I may have stopped Ashford from saying something to Lesage, but I’d ring him tomorrow. This was a waste of a million-dollar membership.