Leopold, Part Six: A Royal Heartbreakers Romance

by Renna Peak

  I smile. “I grew up here. People are lazy—if they’d just drive a few miles up the highway, they wouldn’t have to deal with the thousands of people at the pier.” I shrug. “It’s a secret in plain sight. Gotta love those.”

  She gives me a strange look before she lifts a brow. “Yeah.”

  I shake my head and close my eyes again. Why the hell should I care if people don’t know they can find a nearly empty beach a few miles from one of the busiest beaches in the world? My mom used to bring Owen and me here when we were kids. I never stopped loving the beach—I just hate the number of people who also love it. And this particular beach is pretty crappy for surfing, too, so it appeals to almost no one except people like me—introverts who hate crowds.

  “I like it.” I smile to myself.

  “Secrets? Or empty beaches?”

  My brow furrows and I glance over at her again.

  She lifts a brow and sets down a basket. “I brought food. You want some?”

  “Ugh, no.” I shake my head. I had been pretty sure I must have eaten something bad when I was in Montovia, but now… Now I’m pretty sure this whole situation has made my appetite permanently evaporate. I don’t even remember the last time I ate a real meal.

  She sighs before she hands me a large envelope. “This came for you at my office.”

  “What is it?”

  She shrugs. “A secret?”

  I take the envelope from her and set it down next to me before I lay my head back down. “I don’t have any secrets anymore. You published them already, remember? And all that shit I thought was going to ruin me barely even registered.”

  “Yeah. Blows for both of us. My editor still thinks I have a shot at a journalism award for the story, though. Maybe not the Pulitzer, but you never know.”

  “Well, I’m glad one of us is going to get something out of it.” I don’t even open my eyes to look at her—we’ve had this conversation several times in the past few weeks, though not since I moved back to L.A.

  I’m not even sure why I came back, other than this has always been home to me. Whatever wanderlust I might have had a few months ago seems to have resolved itself. I just want to be home—even though I can’t live in my house right now, being here—home in Los Angeles—is comforting to me. And even though I’m renting a room by the month in someone’s house, it’s better than living in a motel. At least for now. And if I can stick it out another six months, I can have my house back when the lease is up for my renters.

  “Speaking of getting something out of things…”

  I turn my head and squint at her again. “Yeah?”

  “I heard Lady Karina was paid ten million dollars to give an exclusive to that British tabloid. You know, Elle, if you want to go that route—”

  “No.” I close my eyes again and fold my hands over my abdomen. “I don’t want any part of that bullshit. We tried to do it legit, and no one wanted to hear it. People can go fuck themselves if they want to hear about my private life now.”

  She’s silent for a moment. “That envelope was overnighted—you might want to open it.”

  I shake my head. “It’s just another offer to embarrass Leo. I’m not going to do it. If I ever do tell that story, I’ll give it to you. And you can at least be classy about it.”

  “I’m not so sure, Elle—”

  I open my eyes and turn to her. “You’re not sure you can do classy, Victoria?” I lift a brow. “You’re not seriously thinking about going back to camping outside celebrity houses again, are you?”

  She shakes her head and points at the envelope. “No, I mean I’m not so sure it’s that kind of offer. The return address—it’s from Montovia. I can’t imagine with their anti-paparazzi laws anyone in the press there is offering you money for a story.”

  I sit up and pull the envelope onto my lap. It’s just a plain cardboard mailing envelope—the kind someone would send an important document in to keep it from bending. I’ve received at least a dozen of them since my story came out—all with offers to give an exclusive story for money. Of course, they all come with strings attached—having to give out personal details about Leo being the main one. And I’ve already made it clear to Victoria and everyone else that I’m not about to go down that road. I don’t care how much of a slut the world thinks I am—I’m not going to sell Leo or his family out, and it doesn’t matter how much money someone is willing to throw at me.

  And that Karina bitch makes me sick. My stomach rolls a little just thinking about her. I know Leo doesn’t read the tabloids—he doesn’t care what’s said about him in the press. But it’s clear to anyone who does read them that she’s using him. He’s being a dutiful… Hell, I’m not sure what he is. Not her husband—not yet, though the magazines all seem to be predicting that’s the next move. That he’ll be proposing to her at the state dinner.

  The stupid dinner I was supposed to attend with him.

  I frown and slide my finger under the seal of the envelope and pull out the contents. It’s a single sheet of paper—heavy, fancy, and embossed paper. I read what’s written on it before I shove the thing at Victoria.

  I lay back down on my towel and try to push down the sick feeling that’s threatening to overtake me again.

  Victoria is silent and I know she must be reading what’s written on that single sheet of paper. She speaks a moment later. “Oh my God. It’s an invitation to the state dinner. You have to go.” Her voice is almost giddy. “My God, Elle, you have to.”

  I shake my head but don’t open my eyes. “I have no intention of ever going back to Montovia again. And definitely not for that.”

  I hear her shuffling the paper back into the envelope. “You don’t have to go alone. I can find you a date—there are a couple of guys in my office who would die to have a chance to be invited to Montovia. You can’t even get in the country as a reporter without an invitation, Elle. You’ve got a golden ticket in your hand. Let me fix you up with one of them. I’ll—”

  “Why don’t I just go with you?” I open one eye and squint over at her for a second. “It doesn’t say anything about my date having to be someone of the opposite gender, does it?”

  Her mouth falls open and she stares at me.

  I smile and close my eyes again.

  “I… You would do that? Why would you do that for me?”

  I shrug, keeping my eyes closed. “Why not? You’ve been the only person I’ve spoken to in the past few months.” I shrug again. “You’ve become a friend, Victoria. You took on my story—you thought you were going to get more out of it than you did. And you’ve said how you’re the one who’s been dying to get an interview with Leo, not the guys in your office—”

  “No—I want an interview with Andrew. Fuck, I would murder someone to get a chance to even speak to him. He’s so…mysterious. And he’s the heir…”

  I lift myself onto my elbows and look over at her, my brow furrowing. “He’s kind of an asshole, Victoria. And I’m not just saying that.”

  She shrugs, smiling. “I don’t even care. If I could get a quote… Holy shit. No one’s been able to even get a quote from him—”

  “If we did this—you couldn’t go in there as a reporter. You’d have to at least pretend you were just there with me. I mean, once we’re there, you can do whatever the hell you want.” Fuck, I don’t even know what I’m saying. I can’t actually go back to that palace. Not even ten minutes ago, I wouldn’t have been caught dead there. I couldn’t have imagined stepping foot there, especially if Leo is going to be there with her—the woman who is clearly using him.

  I let out a long breath and lay back down. “Never mind. I can’t be seen there. She’ll be there.”

  “So? If you show up, everyone will want to know who you are—and why the hell Leo was willing to let you go.”

  My jaw tightens. I don’t want to admit it, but he didn’t let me go. I let him go. And what does that make me? Other than an idiot? But then I remember why I had to let him go—it doesn
’t make the nauseous twisting in my stomach any better, but at least I don’t feel quite so bad about it.

  I lift myself up again, looking over at Victoria. “Does it say who invited me? I can’t imagine Leo would want me anywhere near him and the new love of his life.”

  She pulls the invitation from the envelope again, reading it more closely this time. “It says you and a companion of your choice are invited as the personal guests of Queen Penelope.”

  “Hm.” I lift a brow and lay myself back down. The queen and I did seem to bond when I was there. Leo said I had charmed her—I’m not so sure that’s true, but she seemed to like me, at least. I suppose it’s not too far out of the realm of possibility that she would invite me to this thing herself. She may have something up her sleeve, but how bad could that be? It’s not like Leo is going to allow her to play matchmaker between the two of us—not when he has Karina now. Not when he hasn’t even attempted to contact me.

  “They have such weird rules, Elle. It says we won’t be seated together.”

  I shrug to myself. “Maybe I can try to get you a seat next to Andrew. Maybe you can help him pull the stick out of his ass.”

  She laughs—and it’s almost a giggle. The girl has it bad—hell, she sounds almost like I used to before I met Leo. If someone had told me six months ago that I would have had not one, but two affairs with Prince Leopold—I wouldn’t have believed it. And I probably would have giggled like Victoria is doing now just imagining it.

  I sit up and look over at her. Her cheeks are flushed and she’s grinning. I can’t help but smile myself. “So, you want to go with me?”

  She nods and looks at me for a moment. “I’ll go, but only if you do me a favor.”

  I lift a brow. “It depends what it is.”

  Her smile falls and she tilts her head, her expression becoming a lot more serious. “I need you to do something for me. For yourself, really.” She looks at me for a long moment. “Do you trust me?”

  “Implicitly.”

  She smiles, shaking her head. “You’re such a terrible liar, Elle.” She chuckles. “But we do need to make a stop at the drug store.”

  The four weeks since I received the invitation to the state dinner seem to have flown by. Even though I didn’t really want to return to Montovia, I’m not entirely regretting it now. And Queen Penelope saved the gowns Leo had made for me so many months ago. I still can’t believe how thoughtful she is—almost as though she knew I’d be back.

  It’s a miracle this silver beaded gown still fits. And considering how everything has changed now, it’s pretty amazing I can get it on at all—but it fits like a glove. Like it was made for my body—and I suppose that’s because it was.

  “Holy shit, Elle. That dress… It’s amazing.” Victoria stares at me after I walk into the little sitting area—parlor, I suppose it’s called now that we’re in the palace.

  She shakes her head. “How is it that you left this place voluntarily?” She lifts a brow. “And how many rooms are in this place, anyway?”

  I shrug and edge myself around her. “Six hundred and something, I think. And I didn’t leave voluntarily, remember? I was forced—”

  “Someone would have had to carry me out at gunpoint to get me to leave this place if I had an open invitation. And how you managed to get an invitation from the queen herself so that you get to stay here—fuck.” She turns to me and grins. “You think I’ll get to meet her?”

  “You realize you’re not acting anything like a reporter right now, right?” I have to hold back my laughter—I was probably at least as wide-eyed as she is now when I first came here, too.

  I’m not even sure why I really came. It’s not like anything is going to change, not that I really expect it to. Queen Penelope invited me, so I know there’s some reason at least she wants me here. And it will be good for me to see Leo with Karina—that’s what I’m telling myself, anyway. If I see her in his arms, it will give me the closure I need.

  And this is all going to make a great story for my grandchildren, which is how Victoria finally convinced me that this was the right decision. It’s pretty obvious why she’s here—she wants an audience with the heir. She’s been taking dancing lessons for the past few weeks, hoping Andrew will ask her to dance at least once. And knowing her as I’ve come to these past few months—all it’s going to take is one dance and then she’ll pounce. I just have a feeling that she isn’t prepared for how much of a dick Andrew can be.

  But right now, I need to prepare myself to see Leo. I know there’s a pretty good chance he’s going to try to corner me himself. And part of me hopes he does—I almost need him to. Even if it’s only for a few moments, I have a few things I need to say to him. I haven’t been able to forgive him for just washing his hands of me when he found out Karina was having his child. I need him to look me in the eye and tell me he did the right thing. I need to know that if things had been different, he would have done the right thing by me, and not just by her.

  I don’t have any illusions that he’s going to dump Karina for me. I just need to see that he’s the man I think he is. It’s going to make everything a lot easier for me in the long run.

  We walk out of our room—it’s on the other side of the palace as my room was when I stayed here a few months ago, probably purposely as far away from Leo’s room as possible. We’re escorted to a huge ballroom—it’s about ten times the size of the one where Leo had taken me to teach me to dance.

  My face heats up thinking about that day—remembering how he taught me to dance. How he pressed his body against mine. How he took me back to my room and made love to me for the rest of the evening.

  That’s how I’m choosing to remember what we had together. If I can hold onto the passion—the love I felt for him—it makes everything else easier. Choosing to only remember the happy memories is a hell of a lot better than choosing to think about the other shit that happened when I was here before.

  Someone announces our arrival in the ballroom, but I’m sure no one can hear. There’s an orchestra playing and people are milling about—no one is yet seated at any of the circular tables that fill the large room. There are obviously seating assignments—someone had told me when we arrived that Victoria and I would be seated at separate tables. The Montovian tradition of seating unrelated people together is a huge production—I can’t even imagine how many hours it takes a planner to figure out who knows each other and who doesn’t. But the point is that everyone at the table starts out as strangers but goes home with new friends.

  Whatever. I have no intention of making any friends tonight. I’m here for one thing and one thing only—to say what I need to say to Leo. I don’t even much care if I eat. I’ve only recently stopped feeling so goddamned sick to my stomach, and eating still isn’t high on my priority list.

  I see him standing on the far side of the room. I’m pretty sure he hasn’t seen me yet—I can see Karina hanging on his arm, smiling. They’re talking with a group of men—I don’t recognize anyone except Leo and the woman he’s been photographed with so often in the past few months.

  I take a few steps toward them, determined to complete my mission before dinner begins. This isn’t going to take long—a couple of minutes and I can fly back home a happy woman. And Victoria can stay and make new friends—get all the quotes she needs to write a fabulous story about her fabulous night at the fabulous palace.

  But I don’t even get three feet before there’s a hand on my elbow, pulling me into a corner.

  I look over, half expecting it to be Stephan, ready to throw me out with a swift kick to my ass. But it isn’t—it’s Queen Penelope. She looks stunning in her white ball gown, her crown sparkling high on her head.

  She smiles down at me. “Elle, I’d heard you were here—things have been so astonishingly busy these past few weeks. And I was hoping…” Her mouth snaps closed and she tilts her head. Her gaze narrows a bit and she tugs on my elbow, pulling me farther into the corner where we’re alon
e.

  She lifts a brow. “Have you spoken with Leopold?”

  I shake my head, lifting my arm to point in his direction. “I was about to go interrupt…”

  She turns to look where I’m pointing before turning back to me. “Does he know?”

  “Know—?”

  She nods toward me and arches a brow. “Does he know?”

  “About—?”

  “Elle.” She shakes her head. “I’ve had five of my own children.”

  “I…” Fuck, I haven’t told anyone. The only person who knows is Victoria, and the only reason she knows is because she made me pee on a stick after we spent that day at the beach—the day I received the invitation to come here. What they say about doctors is true—we make the worst patients. To say I had been in denial about what was going on with my body would have been a huge understatement. It’s still hard for me to admit to myself that I’m pregnant, let alone to admit it to anyone else.

  I set my jaw. “It’s pretty pointless, isn’t it? I mean…” I nod toward where Leo is standing on the other side of the room. “He has a baby coming in a few months. A royal baby. I still haven’t decided what I’m going to do about this.” I make a little motion toward my belly. “Or if he even needs to know—”

  She looks at me for a moment, slowly shaking her head. “When Karina’s child is born, Elle, the truth will come out. Leopold’s father has already asked the medical staff to immediately perform a paternity test.”

  “But it doesn’t matter. He’s doing what I asked him to. He’s standing by her side. Whether that baby is his or not—he would have looked pretty bad if he’d abandoned her.”

  The queen gives me a slow nod. “Which is why we’re waiting until the child is born. When there is proof that Karina has lied…” She lets out a short huff. “Elle, you’re a physician. Look at her.” She motions with her head toward Leo and Karina. “She should be six or seven months pregnant at most based on what Leopold says happened between the two of them.” She arches a brow again. “Her child has dropped—she’s going to give birth at any moment, meaning she is quite a bit farther along than she’s saying.” She presses her lips together. “The medical staff have been saying as much for the past several weeks.”