Royals weren’t affectionate, not to each other and definitely not to other people. We shook hands—one shake, two at most. We didn’t drape our arms over anyone’s shoulders. And we sure as fuck didn’t suck cupcake icing off their fingers. Like I said, I never was one to follow the rules.
“How are…” I paused, staring at the fork in the road and deciding which path to take. “Things?” I took the easy one.
He tilted his head as though he were staring at that same fork in that same road. “Things are exactly where they’re supposed to be.” He took the one covered in gasoline.
I started walking again, leading him down the hall with my arm around his shoulder. The intimate melody of the cello’s song was joined by the piano. The passion between them grew louder, spilling into the Great Hall as we got closer to the Ambassador’s Room. I stopped walking when we reached the first open archway and skimmed the crowd of guests. “These parties… It’s always the same faces. The same people. Same boring conversations.” I exaggerated a sigh. “I think next time I’ll bring someone new. What do you think?”
“Depends on the someone.” His bright eyes bore into mine, challenging me to cross the line he drew.
I knew he was trying to warn me, but all he did was fuel my appetite. I dropped my arm from his shoulder and widened my stance. “I think you know who.”
A wide, almost menacing grin spread across his face. The bitter energy radiating off him was potent enough to bottle and sell to soldiers going to war. “Katie doesn’t do parties. She’s more of a one-on-one kind of girl.”
Power wasn’t a privilege. It was a state of mind, and mine was resolute.
“So, no parties then.” I smiled back, catching his gaze and making sure not to look away. I clasped a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure I’ll come up with something.”
“Right.” He straightened his spine, bringing his frame an inch taller than mine. Still not intimidated.
He opened his mouth then snapped it shut again. For a minute, I thought he might actually tell me to fuck off. I wouldn’t blame him if he did. I wanted something that belonged to him, and we both knew I would eventually have it.
“I should get going,” he said after seconds of silence.
I laughed and nodded toward the gala. “Come inside. Have a drink.” I narrowed my eyes and studied his face. “Unless you have other plans…”
I knew he didn’t have plans. I heard her tell him no.
“I don’t drink,” Keaton replied.
“Of course you don’t.”
He bowed his head one last time. “Goodnight, sir.”
Then he turned away from the gala, away from me, away from the reality that a war had just been waged, and he had no hope of winning. He walked right back toward the library. Right back to her.
Four
Somewhere in the world, there was a comfy yellow sofa—the color of fresh lemons or sunshine. The color of happy—on the back wall of a therapist’s office with my name written all over it. The girl who hides from feelings in order to protect her own. I never thought about the possibility of hurting someone else’s in the process. It’s why I chose Keaton. He was a guard. They didn’t have serious relationships. They didn’t get married. The guard was married to the guard. He knew I never planned on staying in Torryn. In six months, I’d have my inheritance and be gone the very next day. We had an understanding. On paper, we were the perfect fit. What we did just worked. Why was he going off script now?
The dark room brightened when I clicked on a second lamp, then a third because the darkness started to play with my mind. I liked simple things, easy things. I didn’t do complicated, and Sutton Thorne was becoming a serious complication.
My fingers trailed the banister of the grand spiral staircase as I walked past it to find my book. Roses and vines and leaves were all molded into wrought iron with polished wood rails. I outlined one of the thorns and wondered about the artist who crafted it, if they knew that one day those thorns would have their own crown.
As soon as I plucked my book from its shelf, I heard the library door open followed by heavy footsteps on the marble floor.
“He wants to fuck you,” Keaton growled.
I spun around and the book fell from my hands, hitting the floor with a loud thud. I bent to pick it up, holding it against my chest like a shield as I turned to face him. “What? Who? What are you talking about?” My words stammered even though my thoughts didn’t. I knew exactly what he was talking about.
Keaton closed the distance between us within seconds. “I’m talking about His Royal Highness, Sutton fucking Thorne. He could have anyone he wanted. Anyone. And yet, the future king of Torryn wants to stick his dick in the woman I—” He cut himself off, clenching his jaw.
Please don’t say it. Please don’t say it. Do not say the “L” word.
“Keaton…” I said before he had a chance to finish his thought and shatter all hope of us moving past this. My fear of loss was still too raw, too real. The last thing I wanted in my life right now was love. I reached for his hand, but he pulled it away. I took a step forward. “You don’t know that.”
“Oh, but I do. He stopped me on my way to the barracks and all but said the word.”
I didn’t want to believe Sutton was capable of something so cruel.
Of course he was.
Keaton’s eyes grew dark. The muscle in his jaw tightened and flexed. His hands fisted at his side then relaxed as he let out a deep breath. “I have no idea what happened in the kitchen today. I know you said it didn’t matter… and maybe to you, it didn’t. But it sure as fuck wasn’t nothing. So now I’m caught somewhere between doing my job and beating the shit out of the prince, and you won’t even let me spend the night.”
He stormed out of the room before I could respond.
I didn’t want to fight with him over this… over Sutton… over nothing. He may have been bigger than me and stronger than me, but this wasn’t over, even if I had to drag him back myself.
I followed him out and was quickly greeted by the sound of laughter echoing in the hall. Sutton and a tiny brunette were walking this way. Her head rested against his arm as they held hands and walked the path toward me. As soon as I met his eyes, his mouth twitched as though he fought back a smile. He did this. I didn’t know what he’d said to Keaton—probably something about everything belonging to him—but I wanted to plant my foot on his balls because of it. I didn’t belong to anyone, especially not him.
I yelled down the hallway, not caring who heard. “Keaton, stop!” Please.
He stopped walking and turned to face me. Sutton and his plaything stopped too. All eyes were on me in this moment, and I knew whatever came next needed to be important. It needed to make a statement to both of them.
I made a point of looking past the prince, directing my words at the only one of them who mattered right now. “Stay with me,” I said, not caring or realizing what the outcome might be.
“What?” he asked, his expression as confused as my feelings.
“Go get your things. I want you to stay with me tonight.”
My eyes followed Keaton’s as he glanced at Sutton. We both watched Sutton’s jaw clench, waiting for some arrogant proclamation that never came.
A wide grin brightened Keaton’s face. “Yeah. Let me just grab some clothes… Even though we both know I won’t be needing them,” Keaton said. Then he winked and walked back toward the end of the hall.
Oh, for crying out loud. He might as well have just whipped out his penis and a ruler.
The pretty brunette leaned up, whispering something in Sutton’s ear. He huffed a laugh then continued walking my way. They breezed past me as Sutton guided her to the library. His shoulder brushed mine, not by accident I was sure, leaving my skin heated at the contact. Stupid hormones. The brunette went inside and strolled lazily across the room, letting her fingertip drag along the edge of a leather chair while Sutton stopped in the doorway. My chest swelled with an overprotecti
ve need to make them leave. Why were they in my library anyway?
Okay, technically it didn’t belong to me, but for the past four months it felt like it did. The cold truth was that as long as I was here, nothing would ever be truly mine.
He pressed one shoulder against the wooden frame. “Are you finished in here for the evening?”
I swallowed and answered with a slight curtsy. “It’s all yours, Your Highness.” Even in my sarcasm, I still remembered my manners. Mama would be proud. Sutton grinned and my stomach flipped. I made a point of studying my bright pink fingernails and appearing unaffected.
He leaned forward, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear then resting his cheek against mine as he whispered. “Good. I hear it’s a great place for blow jobs.”
The message was clear. The open door… It was him. He saw everything, and he was taunting me.
His fingers moved to skim my collarbone, toying with my silver cross necklace—the last gift my dad ever gave me.
I swallowed the rapidly building urge to throw up. “You were right. Earlier… in the kitchen.” My chest heaved with every breath. “I don’t like you at all.”
I hate you.
She called after Keaton, practically begging him to stay, like she could outsmart me with some fucked up mind game.
She wanted inside my head? Well, then I prayed for her soul because even I didn’t understand half the dark shit going on in there.
I let her go. I gave her one last night with him because I was a Thorne. We didn’t beg. We didn’t barter. We ruled. By this time tomorrow, she would belong to me, and everyone would know it. And that bullshit about not liking me? I saw straight through that lie.
I took a deep breath and closed the door behind me. My gaze shifted from the swirled marble floor to the gorgeous brunette running her fingertips along the spine of every book she strolled past. I would bet my crown she hadn’t read a fraction of them.
“Sit,” I commanded Julianna as she walked toward the leather sofa in the center of the room. I moved until I stood before her. “Here.” Then I gently urged her down onto the very same spot where Katie sat less than an hour ago. The memory made my dick hard. I squashed the urge to run out to the hall and drag her in here to make her watch me the way I watched her. Tit for tat and all that bullshit. Somewhere in the pit of my stomach was this driving force that filled me with a burning need to have her and hurt her all at the same time.
Katie might have thought she won. She might have thought this was over, but we hadn’t even fucking started yet. Little did she know, revenge was a dish best served with a set of bright red lips wrapped around my cock.
I spread Julianna’s feet apart with mine, allowing me room to stand between them. She licked her lips when her eyes met my crotch. I stroked the curve of her jaw with the back of my finger. “Is this what you wanted?”
“Yes.” Her voice was soft and low.
I unfastened the top button of my pants. “Then, take it. It’s yours.”
She did. Julianna took every drop I had to offer, and like the asshole I was, I gave her nothing in return. When it was over, I was more certain than ever that the devil had my soul. Probably signed the contract with my semen… because even though it was Julianna’s mouth on my cock, I closed my eyes until it was Katie’s face I saw.
Five
I poked my fork into the stack of blueberry pancakes for the third time in the last five minutes. This bite, like the two before it, never made it to my mouth. The silver fork clanked against the porcelain plate as my eyes wandered the empty dining room, ignoring the familiar pang in my gut. On the outside, we painted the perfect picture of a royal family. On the inside, we ate breakfast alone. We read books alone and watched television alone. I was tired of being alone.
Dad was supposed to meet me here twenty minutes ago. We had meetings with constituents all afternoon, followed by Saturday evening Mass. He would call Parliament back into session soon and, since the king was the voice of the people, kissing babies and shaking hands was the best way to get them to open up about their concerns. I couldn’t keep my mind off Katie long enough to concentrate on eating breakfast, let alone solving the problems of our country’s citizens—which was odd because being out on the streets, talking to the people, was my favorite thing to do. And not just because out there, the loneliness disappeared. I loved being in the thick of it, seeing the faces, hearing their stories, and getting to know them. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree, at least not where the people were concerned. Apparently, my priorities had gone to complete shit, right along with my morals.
I finished my coffee then headed toward the kitchen with a handful of dirty dishes and my uneaten pancakes. It was a good thing my father decided to skip breakfast because he’d throw a fit if he ever caught me cleaning up after myself.
White. Everything was white. Crisp white cabinets with polished silver hardware and stark white marble tiles. The only ounce of contrast in the entire kitchen came from the rich, onyx countertops. Thornebridge Castle looked like an ice palace rather than something in the middle of the Mediterranean.
The girl from yesterday, the one with the grapes, stood at the oversized island chopping garlic and tossing it into a stainless-steel mixing bowl. Her dark hair was pulled into a knot at the top of her head. She wore the same navy-blue and black dress she had on before. Come to think of it, everyone on the kitchen staff always wore the same thing. Everyone except Katie with her jeans and T-shirt. Why didn’t I notice that before? Maybe it was because she was new.
Or because you were too busy mentally grabbing a handful of her ass.
One of the older women we had working at the castle since before I was born snatched the plate out of my hand. “How many times do I have to tell you to stay out of my kitchen, Your Highness?” Her soft brown eyes brightened with her smile.
I gave her a knowing but leveled look, a skillful balance of you could commit murder and I’d be your alibi and but I’m still your boss. “I’m perfectly capable of washing a plate, Mrs. Fletcher.” It wasn’t the first time and wouldn’t be the last.
She scraped the pancakes into the garbage disposal then turned on the tap to rinse the plate. “Capable? Yes. Encouraged? That’s another story.” She tsked. “Your father would have my head.”
I sat my coffee cup on the counter and winked in her direction. “What the king doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
She laughed. “I’ve kept enough of your secrets over the years to fill the Royal Treasury.”
The consequences of being an only child—boredom and curiosity. Abigail Fletcher was one of the elite few who got to break through the barrier and see the man beneath the crown. Unfortunately for her, there were rare occasions when she had seen a little too much of the man.
The girl chopping garlic giggled beside me. I glanced her way, and her cheeks flushed pink. I was suddenly very aware of what she must think of me, of how what happened yesterday must have looked to her.
You curled your tongue around a woman’s finger and growled. What the fuck did you think it would look like?
Her hooded eyes told me she probably thought—or hoped—she might be next. This girl was young, too young, and it wasn’t every day that I waltzed into the kitchen and hit on the staff. Yet here I was for the second time in a row…
“Yesterday, there was a woman making cupcakes. I thought she might be here again today,” I said.
I watched the false hope shatter in the girl’s eyes as she tossed another batch of chopped garlic into the bowl then grabbed a nearby onion. “Yes, Your Highness. That was Katie. She hasn’t been in today.” She peeled the top layer from the vegetable.
Hasn’t been in? What the fuck? First, she disrespected me in front of my staff. Then, she blew me off (not literally, unfortunately) and wandered around the castle performing sexual favors for the guard. Now, she thought she could come and go whenever the fuck she pleased?
Fuck. That.
I clenched my teeth, and
my jaw tightened. Mrs. Fletcher cleared her throat, giving me a stern look as she smoothed the front of her dress. It was a warning. Too bad I didn’t care.
“Thank you,” I replied with a smile then walked toward the door.
“Sir,” the girl called out behind me.
I checked my shoulder but remained silent.
“She’s probably in the library.”
Right. The library. Take a chance of repeating yesterday’s soap opera? Thanks, but no thanks. I would rather scrub my eyes with bleach than catch her with Keaton again.
“Or you could try the South Garden,” she added.
The South Garden? No one went to the South Garden unless we had guests in the villas. It faced the sea. The smell of saltwater bothered most people I knew, so they stayed inside. But Katie wasn’t like most people I knew. She wasn’t vain or pompous like the champagne guzzling “friends” of the Crown. This girl was a shot of whiskey, slow burn with a hint of sweet. All I had left to do was chase her.
I woke up to an empty bed and Keaton’s scent on my pillow, masculine and strong like cloves and cinnamon. The sun crept through my bedroom curtains, reminding me that I had survived another day at Thornebridge Castle. Barely.
Keaton never brought up Sutton, and I didn’t either, but his name hung heavy in the air around us. Even though he spent the night, we didn’t have sex. That still-small voice kept telling me I wasn’t ready to be that vulnerable again. Instead, we talked and laughed—something we hardly ever did—then he held me until we both fell asleep.
I spent most weekends reading, baking, or in the garden. Weekdays were quiet for the most part, but (until recently) on weekends the castle buzzed with an energy that I usually stayed away from. The girl I was four months ago would’ve loved it. She thrived on variety and excitement. The constant coming and going. Lavish meals and imported wines. That quiet thrill that came from meeting new people. I wasn’t that girl anymore.
Crown of Thornes : a modern day royal romance Page 3