The Marriage Pact

by Winter Renshaw

  There’s still so much we need to learn about each other, still so much old baggage to sort through and let go.

  I also still need to process the Liam situation.

  I’m furious, I’m in shock, and a few times today I found myself in denial. At some point I’m going to need to talk to someone to sort out my feelings so I can move forward from this. I also want to look into prosecuting the asshole.

  He stole my virginity.

  He destroyed my relationship with the first and only man I’ve ever loved.

  Julian promised me he’d take him down.

  I’ll be riding shotgun when he does.

  I’m burrowed deep under the covers when my phone chimes with a text from Gillian asking how things are going. I send her back a thumb’s up emoji. I’m exhausted from last night. I’m exhausted from today.

  Silencing my phone, I close my eyes and think about Julian, and in this very moment, I can’t help but wonder if he’s thinking about me too.

  Chapter 30

  Julian

  “What do you think, Julian?” Emelie turns to me Friday morning.

  Ms. Divine has just finished her presentation, which consisted of a series of mood boards. I must admit, I wasn’t fully paying attention. I heard things like baby’s breath and paperwhites and champagne cake, and then I got distracted by Emelie.

  She’s dressed in all lavender today, and she smells faintly of freesia and honeysuckle. Her full lips are slicked in rose pink. She’s soft and delicate and excited in this moment, and her hand is in mine.

  Emelie gives my hand a squeeze. “Julian.”

  All morning, when I wasn’t preoccupied with Emelie, I was engrossed in my anger toward Liam. He had no right to do what he did, and the fact that he’s been living the good life the past eight years without a care in the world makes it all the more infuriating.

  And I can’t stop thinking about what we lost.

  “I’m so sorry, Ms. Divine,” I say. “Can you please excuse us for a moment.”

  I lead Emelie into the next room and close the double doors behind us.

  “Is everything okay?” she asks.

  “I don’t want to waste another minute,” I say, breathless.

  “What are you talking about? The wedding? You want to get married sooner?” One brow rises higher than the other.

  “The last eight years, they could have been ours, but they were stolen from us,” I say. “I don’t want a pretend relationship with you anymore. I want the real thing. I want to pick up where we left off. I want you, Emelie. I want all of you. And I want you now.”

  Her lips part as she tries to respond, but I silence her with a kiss, my hands in her hair and my mouth claiming hers.

  She’s mine.

  And no one will ever take her away from me again.

  This time, I don’t care what happens—I’m never letting go.

  Chapter 31

  Emelie

  Julian doesn’t waste time.

  The second we finish with Ms. Divine, he takes me by the hand and leads me to his bedroom, locking the door behind us. With my back against the wall, he charges toward me, his hands lifting to my jaw, his fingers buried in the hair at the nape of my neck, his hot mouth sealed against mine. My lips part, accepting his tongue as his hips press against mine. The outline of his hardness through his suit pants sends a thrill down my spine and I kiss him back, harder, greedier.

  Julian’s hands work to free me from my dress and he lets it fall to the floor. I work his belt next, then his zipper, and he’s already unclasping my bra. Cold air brushes against my skin, but the radiating heat of his half-naked body warms me. A second later, he drags my silk panties down my thighs before lifting me into his arms and carrying me to his king-sized, four-poster bed in all its velvet canopy-covered glory.

  He peppers kisses down my neck, moving between my breasts, then down the center of my stomach. The barely-there bristle of his five o-clock shadow against my skin sends a spray of goose bumps down my arms, and I realize now that I’m holding my breath.

  Julian parts my thighs and I exhale, eyes closed tight in the seconds before his tongue allays the soft ache between my legs. He’s soft and gentle at first, taking his time, and then he settles in, tasting me, toying with me, pushing me to the edge and pulling back.

  My fingers are in his hair now and I fight the wave of ecstasy below. We’re only getting started. I want this to last. I want to hole up in his room all afternoon, naked, making up for lost time.

  I think about what he said this morning—how he doesn’t want to waste another minute, how he wants all of me and he wants me now.

  Never in a million years did I think I would hear those words from him or that I would even want to hear them from him.

  It’s funny how things happen, how wrong we can be in our beliefs and assumptions about one another.

  It’s also funny how the truth waits until the perfect moment to reveal itself.

  Julian kisses his way up my inner thighs before trailing back up my stomach and neck and stopping at my mouth. I taste myself on his velvet tongue, and his hard cock brushes against my wet slit, making me dig my fingernails into his muscled backside.

  “I can’t wait another second,” I whisper into his ears.

  He kisses me. Again. And I feel his lips arch up at the sides as he grows even harder below.

  “Are you on the pill?” he asks.

  I nod, my hips writhing beneath his.

  Gripping the base of his cock, he guides himself into me, slowly, taking his time.

  My body relaxes, sinking into the mattress, under his grounding weight.

  Here, with him, I feel safe.

  I feel desired.

  And it’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted from him.

  I’m wandering aimlessly around the palace Saturday morning, exploring new rooms and stopping to admire oil paintings and priceless antiques on display. It’s like living in a museum here, truly, and I don’t think I could ever grow tired of this. So much history, so much beauty.

  Julian is in Greenwood Hills at polo practice with his team. He plays in a private league and they have a big match coming up soon. He asked if I wanted to watch, but I told him I’d stick around here. We spent all afternoon and evening in bed yesterday. He’s got to be sick of me by now …

  … or not.

  Judging by the way he kissed me when he left this morning. Long. Slow. Deep. And then he did it all over again.

  I head back to the main living quarters after a while, passing Julian’s study along the way. But something catches my eye.

  Peeking in, I almost gasp when I see a woman leaning against his desk. Her nose is buried in her phone and her chin is tucked against her chest, so I can’t quite get a good look at her.

  “Hi, can I help you?” I ask from the doorway.

  The woman jerks her head up, eyes darting in my direction, and then I realize an introduction won’t be necessary.

  I’d know her anywhere.

  I’ve seen hundreds of pictures of her over the past several years.

  Dayanara.

  “I need to speak to Julian.” She stands straight, emphasizing her supermodel-esque height, and squares her shoulders with mine.

  “He isn’t here,” I say.

  I don’t know what happened between them. The tabloids had their theories of course, but I took all of them with a grain of salt. For all I know, they ended things amicably and remain good friends to this day.

  “He’s at polo practice,” I say. “I don’t know when he’ll be back.”

  She rolls her eyes. “So busy, that one.”

  “I can tell him you stopped by.” I remain in the doorway. Something about her seems off. Maybe it’s the icy chill in her dark eyes when she looks at me or it’s her striking features and exotic beauty that intimidate me, but my gut tells me to keep this exchange as brief and cordial as possible.

  “That won’t be necessary.” She brushes her dark hair ov
er her lithe shoulder. “I’ll wait until he gets back.”

  “It could be hours.”

  She shrugs before returning her attention to her phone and shooing me away like I’m some pesky little gnat.

  I’ve only lived here for two weeks, but this is going to be my home for at least the next five years. I will not be treated this way by Julian’s ex-girlfriend.

  “You need to leave,” I say, jaw set. I speak to her in the same kind of firm tone I use with my third graders. Serious enough to show that I mean business, but not aggressive enough to put someone on edge.

  Dayanara puts her phone down, scoffing, and then she saunters toward me, looking me up and down.

  Beautiful and vicious might be a deadly combination when it comes to men, but it’s not going to work on me.

  “I cheated on Julian,” she says, her tone matter-of-fact. The lack of emotion she exudes is concerning. “I cheated on him with an old friend of his. He caught us red-handed. I’d never seen him so angry. I thought he was going to kill one of us.” She lets out a short laugh. “We were together a very long time, and I broke his heart, but you? You mean nothing to him. You are nothing but a ploy to make me jealous. If you knew him—and you don’t—you would know that everything is a game to him.”

  I swallow the lump in my throat because I’ve always thought that about him—he loves a challenge.

  “Let me tell you something else,” she says. “Every game Julian plays? He always wins.”

  She pauses.

  “You’re a pawn.” Her eyes drag the length of me again. “You’re American trash. A joke. A fool. You look ridiculous next to him.”

  “It’s time for you to go.” I cross my arms and step out of the doorway. Her words sting, but I keep a blank expression on my face. She wants a reaction, but I refuse to give her one.

  “Fine.” Dayanara rolls her eyes before retrieving a black leather handbag from a chair and slinging it over her shoulder. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  I watch her disappear down the hall toward the front exit, and I hear the voice of one of the butlers a second later as he shows her out.

  I replay our little exchange in my head, feet frozen to the ground and heart hammering in my ears. It all happened so fast that it almost seems surreal.

  Dayanara is clearly bitter and resentful that Julian moved on so fast, but I can’t help but wonder if that’s exactly what he intended? I know his father is ill and the future of the monarchy is in question, but what if he chose me so he could get back at Dayanara? So he could get back at Liam?

  As much as I hate to admit it, her theory makes sense.

  Chapter 32

  Julian

  Emelie is lounging on one of the Chesterfield sofas in the library, reading a book on her phone, when I sneak up, lean over top of her, and crush her rosy lips with a kiss. She gasps with a start before sitting up.

  “You scared me,” she says, hand over her chest.

  “I couldn’t resist. You looked too perfect there.” I take the seat beside her, but when I reach for her hand, I sense a strange reluctance. “What is it?”

  She licks her lips and glances away for a moment before saying, “Dayanara came by earlier.”

  “What?” My gaze narrows. “She isn’t allowed here. Who let her in?”

  Emelie shrugs. “I’m not sure, but she was in your study. I was walking past and I saw her. I tried to tell her to leave, and then she went on this tangent about how you’re only marrying me to make her jealous and how everything is a game to you and I’m American trash …”

  Her voice tapers into nothing, and I let go of her hand, burying my face in my hands, breathing through my fingers.

  “You stood in my door and told me you chose me because of how wonderful I was,” she says, voice soft and broken, “all the while you believed I cheated on you with your best friend and you hated me for it. You lied to me, Julian. And there’s only one reason I can think of that you would have done that—you wanted to hurt me because you thought I hurt you, you wanted to get back at Liam, and you wanted to make Dayanara jealous.”

  I sit beside her in silence, trying to compose my thoughts.

  I can’t lie to her.

  She doesn’t deserve that, not after everything.

  “You didn’t just want me,” she says. “You wanted to use me.”

  I swallow my words, trying to come up with better ones.

  “Julian, look at me.” Emelie tugs on my arm.

  “It’s true,” I say. “You aren’t wrong about me.”

  There’s a loud sort of quiet that lingers between us, a quiet so deafening it hurts.

  Her stomach caves, like she’s too paralyzed to breathe as she waits for me to say something more, and her glassy eyes study mine.

  “But it’s a bit more complicated than you think,” I continue. “Yes. I wanted to hurt Liam for stealing you out from under me. I wanted to hurt Dayanara by showing her how quickly I could move on without her. I also wanted to hurt you by keeping you all to myself, even if only for five years. I wanted you so badly, Emelie, and you slipped through my fingers eight years ago. In my eyes, you chose Liam over me. And I never quite got over it, if I’m being honest. I wanted to prove to you, show you, that you could have had a better life with me. I wanted to show you that you chose wrong. When everything happened with my father and Parliament and I needed a wife, it made sense to choose you. Am I selfish? Yes. Am I greedy? When it comes to you, absolutely. I’ve never claimed to be perfect, and at the end of the day, I’m human, just like you.”

  She stares straight ahead at the lifeless fireplace, and the scent of old paper and leather book spines fills the air.

  “I won’t sit here and justify my ulterior motives,” I say. “I’ll own them. I take full responsibility. And Emelie.” I angle myself toward her and take her hand in mine. “I’m sorry. I’m going to make this right. I promise. For you. For us. I beg of you, if you give me a chance to redeem myself, I’ll make you happy.”

  She’s quiet for a second, and she still refuses to look at me.

  “You’re really good at saying all the right things.” Her voices is so soft it’s nearly a whisper. “And you always have been. But at the end of the day, they’re just words. They mean nothing.”

  “I know that. So I’m asking you to give me a chance to show you.” I lift her hand to my mouth, placing a kiss against her delicate fingers. “You deserve everything, and it would be my honor to give that to you.”

  “I don’t want everything, Julian. I want you. Not the prince. Not the duke. Not the ego running the show. The real you …” Emelie swipes at a rogue tear. “If I’m going to give you a chance, you have to promise me something.”

  “Anything.”

  “You have to be brutally honest with me about everything,” she says. “Even if it scares you.”

  I don’t deserve her, and I’m well aware. But she makes me want to be the version of myself who does.

  Leaning in, I place a tender kiss against her lips. “You have my word.”

  Chapter 33

  Emelie

  I wake Sunday morning to a fresh vase of flowers on my nightstand along with a note from Julian that reads “pretties for my pretty.”

  After the talk we had last night, I’m sure he feels awful and he’s trying to show me that, but it’s going to take a lot more than a vase of lilacs and hydrangeas to make that happen. I want to believe him, I want to believe that he’s going to change and be a better person, but only time will tell.

  I trek to the en suite and get cleaned up for the day before dressing and heading downstairs, where I find Julian in his study on his phone. Perching myself on the edge of his desk, he runs his hand up my thigh before flashing me a quick smile and ending his call.

  “I was just speaking with my legal team,” he says. “They’re in touch with a firm in Briar Cove. There’s no statute of limitations on sexual assault in your state, so I told them I’d talk to you before I gave
them the go ahead to file charges. In the meantime, I have every intention of making his life in Chamont a living hell.”

  We haven’t really discussed Liam since the other night. While the revelation lingers in the back of my mind at all times, things have been going so well with Julian that I’ve been opting to enjoy my time with him and not let thoughts of Liam leech in and sap the happiness from these moments.

  He’s already taken enough from me. Why should I let him take this too?

  “You don’t have to decide right away,” Julian says. “We have time. But I wanted to keep you informed. At the end of the day, it’s your decision and whatever you decide, I’m behind you completely.”

  Julian pulls me into his lap, and I rest my arm around his shoulders before kissing him.

  He really is trying.

  And if he didn’t care about me, he wouldn’t do this.

  “Thank you,” I tell him.

  “I’d murder the stupid bloke myself, but then they’d send me away and I don’t think I could bear to spend another day away from you.”

  I taste his mouth again before peppering kisses down his angled jaw and stopping at his neck. He moans and I reposition myself, straddling him in his chair. The door to his study behind us is wide open, but neither of us bothers to get up and close it.

  His cock hardens beneath me as his hands slip beneath my top until my breasts are cupped in his smooth hands. I reach for his zipper and his tongue dances with mine.

  “Should we shut the door?” I whisper into his ear as I grind against him.

  “Nah.” Julian cups my ass, lifting me up and placing me on the edge of his desk as he pushes the hem of my skirt up my thighs. “I fully intend to fuck you in every corner of this palace. They’re bound to catch us sooner or later …”

  Dirty sex with my clean-cut prince? Yes, please.

  Chapter 34