by B. B. Hamel
I crumpled up the note and slipped it into my little clutch. No, I wasn’t going to meet the king for some secret rendezvous. I was going to stay right here and eat this nice dinner and enjoy myself.
There just wasn’t anything tempting about this bad boy king. At least, I had to keep telling myself that if I was going to be able to resist him.
6
Trip
I hated shaking hands. You could never be sure where their fingers had just been, and they always held on for too long. Everyone wanted a piece of their king, and I didn’t have very many pieces to give.
The only hand I enjoyed touching was Bryce’s. I saw the look on her face when she read my note. She had looked defiant but excited, her breath coming in sharp and short.
I did my duty and gave everyone a small piece of attention. It was part of my job to glad-hand these people, since one day I might need them. I had to keep them happy if I wanted to keep them obedient.
Though how many of these people in here were supporting the rebellion, I couldn’t be sure. Some of them were rebellious bastards, and that was certain, but how many of them exactly was a mystery.
It didn’t matter, at least not tonight. I wasn’t going to solve any serious national crises over a feast.
No, I had more important things to do.
Once I was finished with the room, I quickly disappeared out the front door. My security detail stuck with me as I doubled back through the side halls, heading toward the balcony.
I pushed open the doors and stepped outside. I looked at the security captain, a man named Alfonse.
“Al, stay back, will you? The girl might be coming soon. Let her through if she shows.”
He nodded. “Very well, sir.”
They melted into the hallway as I stepped out onto the large balcony. It overlooked the city, and I was always impressed by the view.
Stehen was as modern a city as we had in Starkland, though the country was slowly catching up. The Starklandian people were hearty peasant folks, but they sure as hell loved their high-speed internet and their iPads. As far as I was concerned, progress was a great thing, and I wanted every single person in my kingdom to advance in life.
That was what bothered me the most about the rebels in the south. They wanted democracy, which was all well and good, but they also thought I was some kind of tyrant. Truthfully, the cabinet ministers did most of the ruling, and I was only consulted on the most important matters. Besides, I only wanted what was best for my people. I wanted every single one of them to have the best life possible, and I couldn’t do that with the rebels killing and attacking towns and villages.
They called me a tyrant. They called me a dictator, a killer. But the truth was, those rebels were far more violent than I ever was. I cautioned my generals, made sure they didn’t harm any civilians, but the rebels didn’t care about that. They burned, raped, and killed indiscriminately, all in the name of democracy. They were really just a bunch of killers and thieves seizing this opportunity to wreak some havoc.
I took a deep breath and then let it out, calming myself down. Democracy was something I wanted for Starkland as well, but it just wasn’t the time. Things were too uncertain.
I heard steps coming up behind me and turned. Standing in the doorway, looking nervous, was Bryce.
I grinned hugely at her. I knew she’d come. “Fancy seeing you here,” I said to her.
“It’s beautiful out here,” she said, walking toward me.
Instantly my heart started beating harder in my chest. The girl was absolutely gorgeous, with long beautiful legs and a body that I needed to feel underneath me. Every inch of her skin screamed to be touched and fucked, especially those lips.
“I come out here sometimes,” I said, turning back toward the city. “I like to look out over Stehen and think about my duties.”
“What are your duties?” she asked, coming up next to me at the balcony.
“Truthfully, not as many as you’d think. I may be the king, but it’s still the twenty-first century. I’m not some absolute dictator.”
“Sounds really difficult,” she said, sarcastic.
I laughed. “I guess you wouldn’t understand.”
“You’re right. I’m just a regular peasant.”
“True. A regular peasant, but a beautiful one and with good ancestry.”
“You’re so flattering.” She rolled her eyes at me.
I laughed again, smirking at her. “What do you think of all this so far?”
“It’s nice,” she admitted. “Starkland is a beautiful country.”
“It is,” I agreed. “I love it.”
“I can see why. I mean, some of this stuff is nicer than America.”
“I take pride in trying to keep the country modern.”
“But it’s the ancient stuff that makes it so gorgeous, you know?”
I nodded. “I couldn’t agree more, which is actually why I wanted to speak with you.”
“You want to talk about architecture with me?”
I shook my head. “No. Not exactly. I wanted to talk about you.”
“I think you’ve done enough of that already,” she said.
“Maybe. Do you know why you’re here, Bryce?”
“I assumed it was because you guys wanted a little photo op with my father. It’s good PR to have the old royal family make nice with the current one, right?”
I grinned hugely, really enjoying how quickly she had grasped that concept. Bryce was clearly a very intelligent girl, not to mention gorgeous and fiery. I found myself wanting to press her against the railing, slide my hands up along her legs, and feel exactly how soaking wet she was. I didn’t care who saw us.
“That’s right,” I said instead, “but it’s not the whole story.”
“Well, go ahead and tell me. I have nothing else to do.”
“Truth is, Bryce, I need an heir. In a monarchy, especially in a Starklandian monarchy, royal boy children are the most important thing. Since I’m without children, I need to make some, and quick.”
She raised an eyebrow. “What are you saying?”
“My advisors believe you’d be the perfect match,” I said. “You’re American and foreign, but you have royal blood in your veins. They think that if we got married, you could give me sons and strengthen my legitimacy.”
She gaped at me. “That’s what this is about?”
“That’s right,” I said. “My advisors want you to marry me. And I want to fuck that perfect, soaking pussy of yours and put my child inside you.”
She stepped away from me, her eyes wide. “We barely know each other.”
“True,” I said, agreeing. “We have two weeks to fix that, though.”
“This is crazy,” she said softly.
“Relax,” I said, laughing. “Nobody is forcing you into anything. I swear that no matter what, this will be your choice. But you should think about it. There are perks to being the queen of Starkland.”
She shook her head slowly. “I don’t want to be queen of anything.”
“Maybe not, but you do want to feel me between your legs. I can see it in your eyes.” I stepped toward her, smirking at her, my heart racing. “I know you want to taste my cock, feel my hands slap your ass as I fuck you until you come.”
“No,” she said softly. “You’re just a crude asshole.”
“Maybe, but I’m a crude asshole king. I can give you things you can only dream about.”
“I don’t want anything from you.”
“Not yet you don’t.”
“Not ever. No way.” She turned back toward the castle. “Take me back to my room.”
“If that’s what you want.” I followed her inside and nodded at my guards. “They’ll take you back. I need to return to the banquet.”
She followed Al for a few steps before stopping and looking back at me. There was something wild and intense in her gaze, something I couldn’t exactly read. She shook her head and then turned away and was gone.
That last look sent shivers down my spine. I didn’t know what it meant, and I was very good at reading people. One second the girl seemed to despise me, and the next I could see true passion in her eyes.
It was beyond exciting. I’d never met a woman like her who didn’t instantly throw herself at me. There were millions of women in Starkland who would do anything to be my queen.
But not Bryce Koch. She was just some foreign American girl of no real consequence, and yet I wanted her more than I could explain.
Maybe it was madness, or maybe there was something else. Either way, I was going to have her. By the end of this trip, Bryce was going to beg to be my queen, and once she finally did, I’d give her exactly what she wanted.
7
Bryce
There was no way I was becoming some breeder for this royal asshole.
There was just no way. I didn’t come out to Starkland just to become Trip’s wife or whatever he wanted. That was just absolutely insane.
We didn’t know each other. Sure, he didn’t actually say that it was his idea, but he also wasn’t acting as if the whole thing was crazy.
It was crazy, though. Absolutely, definitely, totally insane.
As I sat down on my enormous bed, I was so furious and humiliated. That was why there were so many important people invited to that dinner. They all wanted to get a glimpse at the foreigner who might become the new queen of Starkland.
And I was betting that everyone knew but me. Everyone in that room had been talking and looking at me because everyone knew why I was really there. Meanwhile, I’d been sitting at that table like an idiot, totally unaware of what was happening around me.
Trip wanted to marry me. More than that, he wanted to get me pregnant. I pictured him pressing his hard, muscular body against mine, his lips grazing my neck as he pressed my hands behind my back. Trip would take me however he wanted, because that was the kind of man Trip was.
I shook my head, dispelling that thought. It wasn’t the time to fantasize about the king. I was angry, not excited, although my wet underwear begged to differ.
I clenched my jaw and got changed out of my dress. The only thing I wanted was to get out of Starkland as fast as possible. I wanted to get on the first flight home and never, ever think about Trip, the king who wanted to knock me up and lock me away in some tower.
Once I was changed, I flopped down on my bed and resumed my internet research. I went through page after page about Trip, most of it in Starklandian and a lot of it poorly translated. I cobbled together as much information about him as I could, but none of it gave me a clearer picture.
He was a player and a bad boy. He had also served time in the military and apparently had seen real fighting. According to one article, he had been awarded one of Starkland’s most prestigious medals for bravery when he saved his entire platoon. I tried to figure out if that was real or just some crap made up by the royal publicist, but there was no more information out there about it.
I fell deep down the Trip rabbit hole. Page after page of his boyish, smiling eyes, his shadowy stubble, his perfect jaw, his dark hair. Page after page of him shirtless by the pool, dark tattoos covering his body.
Until finally someone knocked on my door.
I sat up, quickly shutting the laptop’s lid. “Who’s there?” I called out.
“It’s me.”
Lucy. I got out of bed and opened the door. She was still wearing her evening clothes, and I guessed they were just getting back.
“Where did you go?” she asked me. “People were wondering. King Christophe covered for you, but I wasn’t buying it.”
I clenched my jaw. “I had to get out of there.”
“Why?” She stepped into my room and shut the door. “It was extremely rude of you. First you slap the man, and then you leave his party out of nowhere.” She shook her head with disappointment.
“Do you know why we’re here?” I asked her.
The pause and the look on her face told me everything. “What do you mean?” she asked, trying to cover herself.
“Don’t lie to me,” I said to her slowly. “I can tell you know something. Trip told me. That’s why I left.”
She sighed. “They told us earlier, after we left you in your room.”
“Dad knows too?”
“Yes, he does.”
I was absolutely furious. “And you two let me go to that dinner?”
“We didn’t see the harm. If you didn’t know, what did it matter?”
“They were all staring at me like I was a piece of meat,” I said, angry beyond words. “Hell, to them I probably was.”
“It’s not like that,” Lucy said. “Yes, they want you to marry him; and yes, they want you to bear his children. But they’re not monsters here, Bryce. They’ll treat you very, very well. You’ll have influence, power.”
“I’ll be some foreign queen brought in to make the king look better.”
“You’ll have a comfortable life. Your children will be royalty.”
“And what will I be?” I asked her, turning away. “I’ll be nothing.”
“Don’t talk that way,” Lucy said. “Do you know how many people would give anything for this opportunity?”
“They can have it,” I said. “I’m not interested.”
“Stay and hear them out. Get to know the king. Who knows, maybe you’ll like him.”
“I won’t. He’s an arrogant ass. I want to get out of here.”
“Too bad,” she said.
I turned back to her and gaped. “What?”
“I said, too bad. Your father and I already decided that we’re staying and seeing this through.”
I didn’t bother saying a word to her. I simply walked past her, out the door, and down to their room. I knocked until my father opened up and let me inside.
Their place was as lavish as mine was, but I didn’t take the time to really pay much attention to the details.
“Tell me it isn’t true,” I said to him.
He frowned. “I take it Lucy told you about the marriage thing.”
“Dad, how could you?”
“Hold on now. I’m not actually marrying you off or anything like that. All I said was we’d see what you thought.”
“Lucy tells me we’re staying.”
He sighed. “Well, part of the deal is we have to stay for these two weeks before you can decide. If we leave now, you lose your chance forever.”
“So then I lose it.”
He shook his head. “No. You’re staying.”
“What?”
“Listen to me, Bryce. Maybe you don’t want this after two weeks, and that’s fine. We’ll leave. But this is an incredible opportunity for you.”
“How can you say that?”
“Because it’s true.” He sighed, taking off his tie. “I want what’s best for you.”
“What’s best for me is leaving.”
“I think you’re wrong.”
I turned and stormed out of the room. Lucy was in the hallway and tried to speak, but I glared at her. She was smart enough to shut her mouth. I unlocked my room’s door with my palm print and then slammed it behind me.
I threw myself onto the bed, not sure if I wanted to scream or to cry.
Here I was, stuck in a foreign country, and the king wanted to make me his bride. Maybe that didn’t sound so bad, but to me it was like a death sentence.
I wanted to be a nurse. I wanted to work with people, to help them. I wanted to be my own person, not some figurehead queen that only needed to pump out babies for his royal asshole.
And everyone knew it but me.
As I went to settle into my bed, I heard another knock at my door. Wondering when the hell this night was going to end, I got up and angrily pulled the door open.
Nobody was there. Alone on the ground was a box wrapped like a present. I looked up and down the hall, but nobody was there.
Curious, I picked it up and carried it inside. I sat down on the
couch and slowly unwrapped the box. The paper was thick and expensive, and the ribbon was beautiful and soft.
Inside was a plain white box. I slowly lifted off the lid and sifted through the white tissue paper.
I bit my lip at what I saw. Sitting in the box was a pair of boxing gloves and a pair of black lace panties.
That asshole. He thought this was so funny. I nearly threw the box across the room, but there was a card at the bottom. I grabbed it and turned it over, reading it.
“Bryce, sorry if I shocked you. Here’s a little token of my friendship. Trip.”
I was angry, I was humiliated, and I was strangely excited.
I didn’t understand it. I was angry and wanted to leave, but I also couldn’t stop thinking about Trip and his cocky smile. I wondered if he had picked the panties out himself, and if he had pictured me wearing them when he put them in the box. Whether I wanted to admit it or not, he was handsome as hell, by far the best-looking man I’d ever met.
But that wasn’t enough. Funny gift or not, I wasn’t going to be some breeding cow for him. Maybe I was stuck for two weeks, but that didn’t matter.
The king was never going to have me.
8
Trip
I held the paper loosely in my hands, a smile on my lips. I couldn’t help but love the headline.
“FIERY FOREIGNER SMACKS KING!”
The photograph was of Bryce in the act of slapping me in the face for my original comment. The article went on to detail how a sumptuous foreigner had slapped the King, seemingly unprovoked. They speculated on some possible reasons and actually weren’t so far off when they suggested I had whispered an insult in her ear.
It hadn’t been an insult. More like a promise, if anything.
As I tossed the paper aside and sipped my morning coffee, I wondered how Bryce had reacted to the present I had sent to her room. The boxing gloves were antique, but the panties were brand new, chosen specifically for her. My cock had been hard as hell as I’d put them in the box, picturing her perfect ass wearing nothing but them.