Don't Tell

by Violet Paige

  I scratched the back of my head. It was a slippery slope. Allowing the Islands into our waters would require heavy regulation. I’d need to speak to our own environmental team. Consult our conservationists. I wouldn’t destroy Galona just to keep a shipping contract.

  Just then the service entry opened and a waiter appeared with a cart of food. He rolled toward us, presenting the trays.

  Our discussion paused while the food was laid out in front of us, along with a bottle of Spanish wine. I knew the chef had paired it with the meal.

  Paul grinned. “Please, let’s eat.”

  Fuck. I was never getting out of here.

  The lights in the first floor rooms were dim by the time the prime minister left for his hotel. The ballroom doors were locked. The library was dark. I walked to the residence elevator.

  There was a quick salute from security before I entered the carriage.

  I turned on the light as soon as I arrived in the residence. I didn’t expect it to be quiet. I didn’t expect it to be empty.

  I expected to see Molly. I checked the balcony before combing my suite.

  I reached for the royal line.

  “Sutcliffe,” I snapped.

  “Yes, your majesty.”

  “Where is Miss Washington?”

  “I’m sorry, sir. Miss Washington?”

  I exhaled. “My guest, Sutcliffe. Where is she?”

  “Oh. The young woman wandering around the palace.”

  I clenched my fist. “Where is she?”

  “Sir, we had no instructions. Security followed royal protocol.”

  I gritted my teeth. “What does that mean exactly?”

  “She left, your majesty.”

  The irritation made the vein in my temple throb. “Why didn’t you ask my input?”

  “Sir, it seemed as if the meeting with the prime minister was in a delicate state. And again, we had no instructions. I couldn’t be certain she was your guest.”

  I sat on the edge of my desk. I hadn’t left instructions. I had expected the security to let her back into the residence. I expected common sense. They saw her leave with me this morning. But they were like statues. They rarely looked around them. I wondered just how safe I was with people who didn’t observe their surroundings.

  Damn it. I closed my eyes. Where in the hell was she?

  “How did she leave?” I quizzed the palace manager.

  “I don’t know, sir.”

  “I need to know when she left. How she left. And where she is now.”

  “Sir, it’s after midnight.”

  I looked at my watch. I didn’t give a shit what time it was. It was his fault she was gone.

  “I expect the information to be included in the lodestar.”

  “Yes, sir. Understood.”

  I ran my fingers through my hair, pulling on the ends in frustration. “Early,” I pressed. “I want the lodestar early.”

  “Certainly.”

  I hung up, not satisfied with the information I had. Not satisfied about a fucking thing that had happened since the morning.

  This morning I had Molly.

  14

  Molly

  The alarm chirped. I pulled the covers close to my shoulders. I was warm in my little cocoon. I had been dreaming. I tried to pull the dream back to focus, but it was fuzzy. The edges came and left my consciousness. And then I saw them. The dark eyes. The lust of Damon’s piercing stare.

  My breath caught. I squeezed my eyes together tightly. My core fluttered remembering that look. I’d never forget it. Along with his voice in my ear. It rattled me. Unlocked something in me that wanted to break free.

  I sighed when the snooze ended and the alarm chirped again.

  “Fine,” I groaned. I tapped my phone, and slid my feet to the floor. I had a lot of work to make up after I disappeared yesterday.

  I walked to the shower. I brushed my teeth before stepping into the tub. The curtain was chained to the ceiling and only covered one side of the tub. It didn’t matter. There was a small radius where the water splashed. I had to stand in just the right spot to wash my hair or else I’d never get all the shampoo and conditioner out.

  I performed my morning ritual, although I didn’t feel as routine as I did before The Talon. Something was different.

  I tipped my head back, letting the water pour through my long hair. The angle reminded me how Damon yanked the nape of my neck, pushing me into submission. There was something entirely erotic about giving my control over to him. But it was a give and take. I’d never experienced anything where my body craved giving as much as it did needing to be pleasured. I felt my body heat from the inside out remembering how I begged him to give me more. I’d never done that.

  I finished rinsing off and stepped from the shower, wrapping a towel around my chest. I pulled on a pair of yoga pants and a tank top. I twisted my hair in a bun and poked a pencil through. It could dry later.

  The apartment was quiet. Brooklyn was still sleeping.

  I started the coffee and turned on the TV. I froze when I saw the same pair of eyes that were in my dream.

  “The king has been in closed door meetings with the prime minister of XXislands for the second straight day,” the reporter stated. “We expect a full briefing from the palace this afternoon.”

  I sat on the loveseat, careful not to disturb my rows of notecards. I hadn’t touched them since arriving home.

  A picture of Damon flashed on the screen along with the prime minister.

  “A palace spokesperson has confirmed the prime minister’s trip has been extended.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek. Part of me felt a sweeping sense of relief. Maybe he hadn’t forgotten me. Maybe the country’s work had prevented him from returning. But that was naïve hope creeping in. Trying to convince me that my one night with the king meant more than it did.

  The reporter stood in front of the palace at the main gates, not by the private entrance I had used. “Sources close to the king say that trade with XXislands is at risk unless the king can turn the talks around. XXislands accounts for twenty percent of our trade economy, so this meeting is critical for all of Galona’s citizens. We will broadcast the palace announcement live.”

  I blinked. That sounded serious. I turned the volume up and walked back to the kitchen. The coffee was ready. I didn’t want to miss any of the reports.

  It was silly, but I was desperate for more glimpses of him. Maybe a sound bite. Video footage of him walking the palace grounds or in the meeting with the prime minister.

  I poured the coffee into my I heart Freychon mug. It was nothing like the delicate china cup I sipped from yesterday on the balcony. The mugs were one of the first things Brooklyn and I bought when we moved. We had a matching pair.

  I returned to the love seat. The report now focused on the XXislands. There were scenes from their sugar cane fields. Apparently, Galona imported ninety percent of its sugar from the prime minister’s country. The country was dependent on them for huge trade profits.

  I watched old news clips from previous meetings between the two leaders. Damon hadn’t once implied his meeting was as critical as the reporter claimed. He had been calm. He didn’t rush my tour of the library. I never would have guessed this was going on.

  I wondered if that made him a good leader. He was hard to read. He could present one side, while concealing his emotions. Or did that make him dangerous? Make him unpredictable? Unreliable?

  “What’s going on?” Brooklyn emerged from her room. “Did something happen?” She yawned.

  “No. I’m just watching the news.” I hadn’t looked away. I was absorbed in the intricacies of the relationship between the two countries.

  She staggered to the kitchen. “Thank God there’s coffee.”

  I nodded absently.

  “Oh, it’s the king?” She sat next to me with a steaming mug.

  I didn’t respond.

  “What are they saying?” she asked.

  “Trade
meetings. Sugar taxes. That kind of thing.” I acted as if the details of trade tax bored me. And under any other circumstance, it did.

  “Oh.” She lifted the mug to her lips. “I didn’t know you were interested in Galona politics.” I saw the smirk behind the coffee mug.

  “There’s nothing wrong with taking interest in the country which we currently call home.” I felt defensive. As if I had been caught doing something I shouldn’t.

  “Mmmhmm. And it happens that the king is hot as fuck.”

  “Brooklyn.” I eyed her.

  “You’re not going to tell me anything? Really?”

  “We can’t.”

  She huffed. “You’re not serious about the contract. I was planning on telling you, anyway.”

  “We shouldn’t.”

  “Mol, it’s not like security from The Titan is going to break in here and arrest us. It’s us. We can tell each other anything we want. Screw them.”

  The news cut away to the weather. I didn’t know how long it would be until the press conference. My cards were scattered. I was losing time. I tuned the TV off.

  “You’re not going to watch?” She looked surprised.

  “It doesn’t matter. I have work to do. We both knew what we signed up for. That night is over, and talking about it doesn’t get me any closer to completing my dissertation.”

  “I wish you would stop being practical and just admit that you had fun and that something might have happened.” Her eyebrows rose.

  “It’s not worth talking about. I’m going to the library.”

  I couldn’t stay in the apartment and deal with her prodding. I couldn’t deal with the temptation to turn on the TV again and watch the press conference, hoping for a glance of Damon. His Royal Highness, I mentally corrected myself.

  “Mol, come on.”

  I grabbed the keys from the hook next to the door and slung my messenger bag over my shoulder. “I don’t know when I’ll be back. Hope you have a good day. Maybe you’ll see a job posting you like.”

  She rolled her eyes and I locked the door behind me.

  The library would be quiet. No TV. No phones. And no traces of the king.

  15

  Damon

  The lodestar was detailed. Sutcliffe had included more information than I asked for. I sat behind my desk, reading the details of Molly Washington’s life. There were posts from her social media accounts. Copies of her transcripts.

  There was an abundance of facts. What was missing was the spaces in between. Her stories. Her words. The colors of her experience. This black and white piece of paper didn’t have that.

  According to the account, Georgan had driven her home late afternoon.

  I picked up the phone.

  “Sir?”

  “Have Georgan escort Miss Washington to my residence.”

  Sutcliff exhaled. “Your highness, you have continued meetings this morning. The press conference will be highly televised. The palace has precise focus this morning.”

  My eyes narrowed. “I didn’t ask for your input. I asked for Miss Washington to be brought to me.”

  “The palace is already surrounded by press. What if someone sees her arrive? Have you thought through this, sir?”

  I could almost see his brow sweating. He hated potential scandal. He panicked over the slightest wrinkle in the royal family’s fabric. Klein caused him countless sleepless nights.

  “My business with Miss Washington is not for public consumption. I expect her to be in the royal residence when I’m finished with the prime minister. And I expect our security and your expertise to keep her off the radar.”

  I hung up the phone before he could continue his veiled lecture on my personal habits. I don’t know which made him more nervous: my brother’s drinking, or my women.

  I awoke restless. Every inch of me wanting and needing another taste of Molly.

  Until I had her again, I wouldn’t be satisfied.

  16

  Molly

  The library was more crowded than usual. I had to hunt for a space in my favorite corner. I was a creature of habit. I liked to sit in the same area. I frowned when I saw a guy with shaggy blond hair, taking up two seats at once.

  I took the table next to his, casting nasty stares in his direction. I’d never seen him here before. I cracked my laptop, skimming for where I left off two days ago.

  It seemed as if every time I rounded a corner of research, it only uncovered more roads for me to cover. That was my problem now. I was at a crossroads. The only way to move in one direction was if I received permission from the Literary Institute in London to examine one of the rare collections they housed. I had other options, but I knew I wouldn’t be as satisfied if I took the short cut route.

  I opened the application for the London Institute and began to fill in the blanks. They were selective about who they let in to review the texts. I crossed my fingers when I hit send that I’d be one of the lucky ones.

  “Holy shit,” The blond guy next to me whispered.

  I looked up in time to see four men in dark suits walking toward our corner. There was something familiar about them. I didn’t have time to put it together.

  They were in front of my table.

  “Molly Washington.”

  “Yes?” I eked.

  “Mademoiselle, please come with us.”

  I stared at them. The student on my right hadn’t picked up his jaw yet.

  “Why? What’s wrong?” I looked around, searching for some kind of life line.

  “Come with us,” he orderd.

  “Who are you?” The guy finally spoke up, but I wasn’t impressed. He slouched behind his computer.

  The first suit eyed him. “This is a royal concern.” His voice boomed loud enough to silence any further interference. The quiet library was suddenly like a graveyard. Everyone gawked at me.

  I pulled my shoulders back. He couldn’t be serious. I was being summoned.

  “What does he want?” I whispered.

  “Matters of his majesty aren’t discussed in open forums. Come.” He motioned to me to follow.

  I didn’t like it. I didn’t like being summoned without a reason. I didn’t like that I hadn’t heard from Damon.

  I leaned forward. “No,” I whispered. “You can tell his majesty to call me if he’d like to speak to me.” I glanced at my screen and pretended to ignore them.

  I was smug. A little too smug. Proud that I had fended off the royal guard. But within seconds they had closed in around me, each one pulling under my arms and lifting me from the chair.

  “Hey!” I yelped. I kicked my legs. “Put me down.”

  They didn’t speak, but continued to carry me through the maze of tables and rows of books.

  “You can’t just take me like this,” I hissed. I looked around for a librarian or someone to stand in there, but the crowd watched in awe.

  I wiggled fruitlessly while they placed me in the back of a car with the royal crest on the door. I tried the handle but it was locked and there was no way out. I beat on the glass.

  This was insane.

  “Let me out of this car.” It sounded more like a whine and less like an ultimatum. I jerked on the handle again. The engine started and we pulled away from the library. I couldn’t believe this was happening.

  We drove outside of the city and along the steep highway, curling around the low mountainside, until I had a full view of the palace.

  I glared at the mass of stone and windows that had stood on these grounds for centuries. Galonians loved their palace. It symbolized the richness of the monarchy. It showcased the majesty of the land. The architecture set the tone for the city of Freychon. There were touches of the palace throughout the city. It may be in an archway above a shop door, or a column at one of the government buildings, but this palace was the centerpiece of the land.

  Right now, it felt like I was being dragged to prison.

  We rolled through the private tunnel and the car stopped at th
e back entrance. The door opened and I scowled at the officer who had taken me from the library.

  “Please follow me.” He extended his hand.

  “And if I don’t?” I challenged.

  “You will be escorted by force,” he stated. There was no change in his voice or expression. I wondered how many people he bullied around like this.

  “I will walk.” I scooted to the edge of the seat and stood outside the door. The same one that only two days ago I had walked through in a trance.

  Maybe it had been a spell. I was caught up in the magic of the king. Stunned by The Titan’s gala. Overwhelmed by the sovereign.

  Inside the elevator I remembered the kiss. The one that had made me breathless. The way my body responded and melted into his.

  The doors opened and the officer waved my forward.

  “You will wait here.”

  I looked around. The residence was empty.

  “For how long?” I questioned.

  “Until his majesty is here.”

  “And how long will that take?” I crossed my arms.

  “Wait here.” He pressed the elevator button.

  The doors closed and I was alone in the king’s apartment.

  17

  Damon

  I stared at the prime minister. He read through the final draft of the new proposal. My need to rush him was an all-time high. I catered to this man long enough. The hand carved clock above the mantle ticked with each passing second. The side door opened and Sutcliffe walked in. He placed a folded card next to my elbow and retreated.

  I scanned the brief report on the card and smiled.

  She was here. Waiting.

  Just when I thought I couldn’t be more restless.