Don't Tell

by Violet Paige

  22

  Molly

  Brooklyn had been sleeping, but she was glad I called. “I heard about the royal guard, so I sorta figured it was him.”

  “Yes. It was. And I just got my phone. I would have called sooner.”

  “It’s fine. Really. I get it. You’re with the king.”

  “I’m not going to be home again tonight.” Damon walked to the bedroom and closed the door. I had a second of privacy to talk to my best friend.

  “Why not?”

  “I’m attending a royal trip.” It sounded like the best way to put it. I certainly wasn’t going to run through the irrigation issues.

  “Holy shit, Mol. That’s crazy.” She suddenly seemed more awake.

  “It kinda is, isn’t it?”

  “And what about your dissertation?”

  I looked at the ceiling. I hadn’t noticed it was carved with ornate designs. “It’s ok if I leave it for another day, right? I’m being spontaneous.”

  “Oh, I agree. This is totally spontaneous.”

  The bedroom door opened. Damon stood, holding a small overnight bag.

  “Hey, I have to go, Brooklyn. But I have my phone now.”

  “Thanks for letting me know.”

  “I’ll call you later.”

  “Bye.”

  I hung up.

  “Twenty-five minutes,” Damon stated.

  “Right. I just need a pair of yoga pants and hair in a bun. I can do that in five.”

  He eyed me. “This is an official visit from the palace. It’s going to require more than yoga pants. Ayla is on her way up with a few options.”

  “I guess she’s the royal manager?”

  “She is.”

  I nodded. “All right.” I started to walk past him.

  Damon’s hand landed on my wrist. “Molly.”

  “Yes?”

  “Don’t think for a second that you aren’t stunning in glasses and yoga pants.” He winked and let me continue to the bedroom.

  I blushed.

  A few minutes later there was a knock on the door.

  “Come in.”

  A short woman with her hair pulled into a tight chignon entered. Her blond hair was much lighter than mine. I guessed she was maybe thirty-five. “I’m Ayla. His majesty sent me to present a wardrobe.” She bowed and I felt completely out of place.

  I shook my head, trying to convey that protocol was unnecessary with me. I didn’t have an ounce of royal blood.

  “I’m Molly. Thanks for your help. I know this was last minute.”

  She walked toward me with a garment bag in her arms. She draped it across the bed and unzipped the center.

  “We have to work quickly. You only have a few minutes before you need to meet the car downstairs. The king is never late.”

  “I’m starting to figure that out.” I looked at the outfits she had selected. I wondered how Damon had described me. How did she know my size?

  “This one?” She held up a blush dress that was sleeveless and fell to my knees.

  “Yes.” I took the hanger. I didn’t need to go through every dress in the collection. “I’ll change and be right out.”

  “I have pearls,” she called after me. “A gift from the prime minister.”

  “Thank you.” I let the silk trickle over my head and wash over my limbs. I looked in the mirror. I had never worn anything like this dress. It wasn’t flashy or revealing. But it wasn’t so modest that I felt matronly. It was fitted with graceful lines.

  I turned to observe the back. There were tiny buttons that stopped shy of my backside.

  Ayla knocked. “Molly, we need to go. Does it fit?”

  I opened the door. “I think so.”

  “Oh, it’s perfect.” She grinned. “Here are your pearls. Turn around for me.”

  I squatted enough for her to get the strand around my neck and fasten it. “The prime minister left these for his majesty, and this seems like the perfect occasion for them. Let me see.”

  I turned to face her.

  “Stunning. Just like a princess.” She smiled.

  I clutched at the necklace. I was afraid of the word. Suddenly afraid of the woman I saw in the mirror. Because I was thinking the same thing. I looked like a princess. And that terrified me.

  The sun blazed overhead as we walked through the grove. Damon listened as the farmers explained the growing process of the olive trees. I walked next to him, but was careful to hang back a few inches. I realized I was his date, but it felt more natural to let him lead.

  I wasn’t in a position to offer him advice or even interject questions to the farmers. I started to realize there were times when I wasn’t going to be an equal. And if I dated the king, that was going to showcased in public.

  I observed the interaction with new interest. He leaned in, listening intently to the thick Spanish accent. Damon easily moved back and forth between the languages.

  Ayla was also in our caravan. But she was in a group that waited for us by the cars. Once we stepped into the grove, I was on my own. I had to hope I didn’t screw up some kind of royal rule. I also had to try not to melt in my beautiful dress. It was hard to walk in heels and navigate the rocky terrain.

  Damon offered his hand when we reached a root patch. I thought I heard a camera snap when I took his palm.

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  He grinned, but began asking more questions about the water levels in the area. I maneuvered over the next set of rocks successfully.

  I think was too confident. Feeling graceful and lithe like I was Isabel. I didn’t keep my eyes down when I should have watched every step. My toe hit a root and I tumbled forward.

  I shrieked just as Damon wrapped a hand around my waist, snatching me toward him before I hit the ground.

  There was no mistaking the sound of cameras now. My eyes widened.

  “Are you ok?” he asked.

  I nodded. “I’m sorry.”

  He set me upright, allowing me a second to find my balance. “I’m so sorry.” The press corps was going crazy.

  “As long as you’re all right, Molly.”

  “I am.”

  He threaded his fingers through mine. “Maybe I should keep a tighter hold. Just in case.” He squeezed my hand and I pressed my lips together to keep from grinning.

  “Thank you.”

  We walked for another hour. I stayed by Damon’s side, taking in every part of the discussion. I had no idea there was so much detail in growing olives. I had clearly taken them for granted.

  We rejoined the caravan.

  Ayla greeted me at the giant SUV that we traveled in from the airport. “You may enter the car,” she whispered. “His majesty will take a few photos and wave at the crowd. Alone,” she added.

  “Ok.” I climbed into the vehicle.

  I watched through the window as Damon signed autographs and posed for pictures with the farmers. There were groups of children in the crowd. It seemed as if everyone from the local villages had gathered for the event.

  Ayla sat in the front seat. She turned around, handing me a cold bottle of water.

  “Thank you.” I was thirsty.

  “How did it go? Did anything happen I should know about?”

  I shrugged. Maybe I should let Damon mention my high heel mishap. I didn’t want to upset her. After all, she was the one who chose my accessories.

  “I didn’t expect it to be so warm.” I fanned myself.

  “Don’t worry. You have several dress options for dinner. You have plenty of time to shower and prepare for the next event.”

  “Oh good.” I took a long sip. “What next event?” I thought this was the only scheduled appearance we had.

  She smiled. “I can’t go into details.”

  “Why not?” She was supposed to be my manager. If there were details, I needed to know.

  “I’ll let his majesty explain.” She froze when the car door opened and Damon slipped in.

  “Your majesty.” She
nodded and turned to look through the windshield.

  He kicked the dust from his shoes. “I think that went well. What about you?”

  “Did you get the information you needed?” I asked.

  “And then some.” He pulled my hand into his lap. “Thank you. I have what I need to convince the cabinet.”

  I grinned. “I’m glad.”

  The SUV lurched forward, the tires crunching over dirt and gravel.

  “What’s next?” I asked.

  He looked at me sideways. I caught a glimmer of playfulness.

  “You’ll see.”

  23

  Damon

  Decorum. Rules.

  I hated the bullshit that came along with being the head of the royal family. Ayla pointed Molly to a room across the hall from mine.

  We couldn’t stay in the same suite when we traveled. The country would lose its fucking minds if the citizens thought their king slept in the same bed as a woman.

  “I’ll have her ready by five,” Ayla assured me, guiding her out of my reach.

  I shoved my hands in my pockets. It was absurd. Molly should be with me in my suite. At my side. In my bed.

  “She doesn’t know about the surprise,” she whispered.

  “Thank you.” I walked into my rooms, closing the door with an irritated thud. I walked to the bar and poured a drink.

  There wasn’t anything that could quench my thirst for her. The bottle wasn’t deep enough.

  I sat on the couch and grabbed the remote. I rarely watched TV unless it was football, but I turned on the flat screen.

  “Fuck.”

  The headline flashed across the screen.

  American caught by His Royal Highness

  There was a succession of photos that blurred in random order of Molly losing her balance and me stopping her fall.

  The trip was supposed to be about the support I needed for the irrigation funding, not about Molly. I stormed to the hallway.

  “Yes, your majesty?” The security officer nodded.

  “I need Sutcliffe and Kenley on the phone immediately.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I slammed the door and paced in front of the TV. There was very little coverage about the event today, and an abundance of speculation about Molly. Who was she? Where did we meet? Why was she on a domestic trip with the king?

  I groaned. I knew she would be photographed, but I underestimated the press’s interest in her. The fact that I scooped her up in a heroic gesture only fanned the flames.

  Security knocked before entering with two phones.

  “Kenley is on this one and Sutfcliffe on the other.”

  “Thank you.”

  Kenley was the go-to on royal damage control. I told Sutcliffe to hold the line a minute.

  “Kenley, have you seen the headlines?”

  “Yes. They are taking over social media. I’m afraid the entire country knows about Molly Washington’s trip into your arms, your majesty.”

  Damn it. I closed my eyes. “Is there any way to extract more coverage on the olive groves? That’s the point of the trip. That needs to be the headline.”

  “I can release a memo from the palace regarding the trip today. I’ll update all of our sites.”

  “But that’s it?”

  “Sir, I think you need to be prepared for the frenzy over Molly. You have never taken a companion on a trip. It was bound to cause questions. Her citizenship creates even more interest.”

  “I know. Sutcliffe mentioned it more than once.” He was still waiting for me on the other phone. “Do what you can, Kenley to spin this away from Molly. The cabinet meeting is tomorrow. I need the votes.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I hung up with her and pulled the Sutcliffe phone to my ear.

  “Sutcliffe, I assume you know why I called.”

  “Miss Washington, sir?”

  He fucking knew why. He wanted me to admit I had been wrong to bring her. That wasn’t going to happen.

  “Yes.” I clenched my jaw. “I thought it might take the press longer to show their interest in her, but it escalated with one picture.”

  “I saw it, sir.”

  “Everyone has seen it,” I snarled. “Ayla is working with her now, but I need protocols in place when we return tomorrow.”

  “Your highness, what type of protocols?”

  “I can’t let her return to her apartment without security. She won’t be able to go to the library. Her world has just been interrupted. I expect a solution when we return.”

  “Are you suggesting she move into the palace, sir?”

  I rubbed the back of my head. “I’m suggesting you find a way to keep her safe. One that will satisfy my requirements and keep the country from imploding with gossip.”

  This was a fucking train wreck.

  “Your highness, this is unprecedented. No companion has ever lived at the palace. It’s not possible.”

  I exhaled. “Make it possible. Find an historic anecdote. Find a loophole. You and I will meet when I return in the morning.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I tossed both phones on the couch and slumped in the chair with my bourbon.

  I realized with one trip. One tiny mis-step and I had done what I had avoided my entire life. I had fallen for a woman so hard, I was willing to break every fucking royal rule to have her.

  24

  Molly

  I knew something was wrong the instant I saw him. He was hiding a scowl when he should have been smiling.

  Ayla had chosen every inch of my outfit.

  For the first time since I meet Damon, it seemed as if he looked right through me. He didn’t seem to notice the subtle dip of the V between my breasts, or the slit that rose to my thigh.

  He met me at the car parked at the rear entrance of the hotel.

  “What’s wrong?” I searched the dark swirls in his eyes for answers.

  “Nothing, love.”

  I slid into the seat, careful to keep my knees and heels together as I spun my glittery heels onto the floorboard. Ayla had been specific about every movement of the night.

  The chauffer held the door as Damon climbed in, his heavy frame engulfing the air in the backseat. I could feel the heat of his irritation. Only, I had no idea what caused it.

  “What’s the surprise?” I asked.

  He gazed out of the window. “Dinner.”

  “Oh.” I watched the tiny shops of the village drift by.

  The car finally stopped. I peered around the corner and saw a marina. At the end of a line of boats was an enormous white yacht.

  Damon stepped from the car and waited for me outside.

  Were we sailing on that? I could count three tiers. There was possibly another one beneath the water’s surface.

  Damon offered his arm. I slipped my hand through, connecting our elbows.

  “This is your surprise.” He nodded at the yacht.

  “It’s amazing.”

  I took one of the crew members hands as he walked me along the plank. It was only wide enough for one person to pass at a time. Damon was directly behind me.

  “Your majesty.” The crew bowed in unison once we were aboard. “Your state rooms have been prepared.”

  I looked at him. State rooms? I thought we were staying at the hotel tonight.

  I knew better than to question him in front of the crew. I followed as they led us through the tight corridor.

  The door opened and I stared at the bedroom. There were windows on three sides. A huge bed anchored against one wall, looking out on the sea. Everything was white and bright like the outside of the ship.

  “Leave us,” Damon instructed.

  I had expected to be shown a separate room. Ayla explained that when traveling, we would have to be kept in separate quarters. It was the only way to protect the sanctity of the crown. I realized no one was aware that the leader of the country was a member of The Talon’s secret society. The sanctity had already been spoiled.

 
“What is going on?” I asked now that we were alone.

  He sat on the bed, dragging my hips to him. He pressed his lips to my navel. I heard a growl in his throat. His breath was warm through the black silk dress.

  “Damon,” I urged. “I don’t understand. Something has upset you.”

  “There aren’t many days when I wish I wasn’t king.”

  “That bad?” I ran my fingers through his hair. He looked in my eyes. That look made me melt. Made me forget all rational thought. It was sexy and forlorn at the same time.

  The captain blew the horn and we departed from the dock. I lulled into him when the yacht sped into the channel.

  “Are you going to tell me what happened to your good mood? Everything was fine at the olive grove.”

  His fingers dug into my sides, pulling my dress higher along my thighs. The slit fell open.

  “I need you,” he groaned.

  I nodded. “I need you too.” I feathered my fingers over his ears.

  “It can’t be dictated. It can’t be controlled.” He lifted my hem, revealing the satin panties that matched the black dress.

  My breathing escalated as his mouth began to explore exposed slivers of skin. I pushed my hips forward. He nipped at the satin, taking it roughly in his teeth.

  “You’re mine.”

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  “Mine when I want you.” He pushed the panties to the widest curve of my ass.

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  His tongue worked to separate my folds, pushing to my clit.

  The boat rocked gently and I leaned forward, catching myself on Damon’s broad shoulders.

  “Shit,” I groaned. His tongue lapped deeper.

  “Take these off,” he directed.

  I shimmied out of the panties without question. He leaned backward on the bed.

  “I want dessert first.”

  Holy shit. I’d never done anything like this. I climbed on top of the king, fully dressed in his tuexedo. My evening gown, splayed around me. I hesitated, but Damon was strong. He planted me right above his face. His tongue traced over my entrance as I sank down.

  “Oh God,” I whimpered. My head falling back as I began to lose control.