Cheeky Royal

by Nana Malone

  I wanted to blurt out the truth. But even now, I couldn't bring myself to hurt him like that. So the words stuck in my throat. I don't want the crown.

  He had given up his whole life to be king when his brother abdicated. To him, it was a calling. “So that’s it. I’m just supposed to walk away?”

  “It’s what we must all do.”

  The crux of it was I loved the Winston Isles. This was my home. I loved the people. I genuinely wanted to make their lives better. But I just wanted to do that through photography and not through the crown. But as I was the only child of the king, there were no other options.

  My father sighed. "Sebastian, there's actually something else I need to talk to you about.”

  "You mean besides burning my dreams to the ground? By all means. You’re on a roll now it would seem.”

  My father shook his head. "Stop acting like a child. We have bigger things to talk about right now."

  I frowned. “Like what? The fact that you want me to take on

  more duties?”

  Father sighed. “No.”

  “Then what?” I wasn’t in the mood for more of his shit.

  “There’s something I need to tell you.”

  “If this is your version of the birds and the bees, you’re too late. Besides, I’m careful. I don't have any kids. Number one lesson you drilled into me the moment I hit puberty: wrap it up. Always."

  Dad frowned, the expression making him look older than he was. "Must you always be so cavalier? This is important. Children shouldn’t pay for the sins of their fathers."

  Way to lay on the guilt. "I know the responsibility that you're placing at my feet."

  His father sighed. "Yes, eventually. I'd like to see you mature more. But at the end of the day, I know the kind of man you are. I know what you're capable of. And you could do great things. The people of the Winston Isles deserve that. I know what's at the heart of you." My father rubbed at the back of his neck. “It’s about the Regents Council and the succession law.”

  I shook my head. “I still don’t know why you’re pushing so hard to change the law. I mean, it’s not like Uncle Roland’s illegitimate heir could have any claim on the throne. He’d be like sixteenth in line or something.”

  The Regents Council was made up of sixteen members of the court or high-ranking government officials, and they helped make the laws in the islands. Unlike England, the monarch in the islands still had a say in day-to-day government. The people elected a prime minister and lesser officials. The prime minister sat on the council to speak for the people.

  When it came to matters of state, I usually let my father do the voting on my behalf. Because there was nothing more boring and mind-numbing than a Regents Council meeting.

  "I know they will fight me, especially your cousin Ashton. He's terrified that his father has illegitimate children floating around."

  A sense of dread rolled onto my shoulders like the shadow of an elephant. "What's going on?"

  My father clasped his hands. "I’d hoped to wait until later to tell you this, but it's important to do so now because the rumors are going to start flying when I start pushing for a vote."

  I crossed my arms. "You're freaking me out."

  Dad winced. I knew he didn't like the American colloquialisms that I had picked up while going to university abroad. My natural accent was more British than anything, thanks to boarding school at Eton, but I'd picked up an American one along the way, as well as some particular phrasings. It drove His Royal Majesty insane. "There's a reason I've been pushing for the vote. And it's not because of Uncle Roland."

  I frowned. That stung. "Fuck, you really think I’m dumb enough to get some want-to-be-princess pregnant?"

  "No, Seb. I'm doing it because of me. I have other children."

  * * *

  Sebastian …

  "Did you know?" I fired the question at my mother before I even closed the door to her chambers.

  My mother looked up from the stack of charity invitations and studied me over the rim of her glasses. "About your father? Yes."

  I stared at her as I realized my entire life, my entire childhood, had been a complete falsehood. "And you’re so calm about it."

  "Yes, I'm calm about it. It was a long time ago, Sebastian. We didn’t love each other then. Our marriage was arranged. We were two virtual strangers who signed pieces of paper and stood before the people of these islands and promised ourselves to each other. We didn't know each other. We didn't know what kind of commitment that love would take. That came later. And when you love someone, you accept their faults."

  “How can you still love him after this? I have siblings out there somewhere.”

  "I know. I've always known about them. He's worked hard over the years to keep track of their lives. Neither one of their mothers would allow him to see them. They wouldn’t take any money. He's trying to do right by them."

  "What about us? Was he doing right by us by lying?"

  My mother slid her glasses off the edge of her nose then placed them on top of the stack of invitations. "Yes. He lied. To you and to our people. But the important thing is he's trying to fix that. But understand he’s never lied to me. From the moment he decided to commit himself to me, when we decided to commit ourselves to each other, he's been honest. I know exactly the man he is. Just because you didn’t know doesn't mean he's not the same father who's loved you and tried to teach you how to be a decent human being, despite all the trappings of wealth and being spoiled rotten your whole life."

  "How can you say that? Turns out, I'm just like him. All the lecturing about what it means to be king. The shitty thing is I never wanted any of this. Still don't."

  "It's not about what you want, Sebastian. Your father's trying to do the right thing. I find that far more admirable than you kicking up a fuss like a three-year-old. You are cocky and arrogant and walk around here like you own the place. You want to be an artist? Great. Teach others how to be artists. Provide for others who don't have the means to be artists. But to give up the monarchy to take pictures? That’s selfish."

  I clenched my teeth so tightly I was worried I might crack a molar. "Why can't you see that this is my dream?"

  My mother folded her arms. "It must be nice to have dreams. I don't want you to be unhappy, sweetheart. I don't want you to go through your whole life and wonder if there were other things you could have done, someone else you could have been. But there is a responsibility and a duty to the people who love you. If you can't see that, maybe you don't deserve to be king.”

  "I don't want to be.”

  As our gazes locked in a staring contest, it occurred to me that if my father was able to get the law passed, there would be two other legitimate heirs to the throne. And maybe, like my uncle Roland, I could find myself unfit and unsuitable to wear the crown.

  I found myself just feeding that kernel of possibility; giving it sunshine, putting water on it, and letting it grow gave me hope. I realized there might be a way out of the stifling prison the crown represented after all.

  If I could find one of my siblings, then I could be free.

  With one text to Roone, a stop by my room for a bag, I left the only home I’d ever known without so much as a backwards glance.

  10

  Penny …

  “Okay, hear me out.”

  I had a bad feeling about this. Blake Security had their eye on Sebastian who was at his apartment with Lucas. They had the exits covered, and we had our cameras, so Ariel and I had a rare night off. Or in this case, Dancing with the Stars on television and strategizing. The problem was I had a feeling she was about to say something crazy. Like, extra crazy.

  And to be honest, I was already dealing with the crazy inside. Ever since coming face-to-face with His Royal Hotness, I hadn’t been able to get him out of my head. He was that kind of deliciously tall that made me feel petite. And at five feet seven inches, I was tall for a girl. Obviously I knew the prince’s stats.

 
Height: Six feet three inches

  Weight: Freaking ripped … That was accurate right?

  Hair: Dark brown … Also, incredibly glossy. I wonder what shampoo he used.

  Eyes: Blue green … And completely mesmerizing.

  I swallowed hard and dragged my attention back to my bestie.

  “Look, I can see your face now, but you need to hear me out.” Whenever Ariel got excited, she jumped up and talked animatedly with her hands, gesticulating to punctuate every point. “Okay look, you have a job to do that was given to you by King Cassius himself, and so far you’re doing fine. Passable. Fine.”

  “You said fine already.”

  “Yes, I did. But listen, we know Sebastian—pardon me, the crown prince. We know him. We know how to exploit him. We know his history, his past. And it is safe to say the past can inform the present or the future, right?”

  I knew where this was going. “Yes, but—”

  She held up her hand. “Just listen. We discussed this, and I know you have your qualms with everything going on with Robert. But you have a mission given to you by the king. This is a royal edict. And we cannot bail because, according to the king, he is in danger. And we’ve already seen some evidence of this, like the fight in the alley with those guys. So at the very least, even if someone isn’t actively trying to kill him, he is at least putting himself in dangerous situations. So it’s in his best interest to at least be at home where he’ll be someone else’s problem.”

  “I don’t want him to be someone else’s problem. I want to do my job well. That is the ultimate goal.”

  “Yes it is. The ultimate goal is to protect him and to get him home where King Cassius wants him, correct?”

  I nodded.

  “Okay, then. I’m not suggesting you have to sleep with him.” She rolled her eyes. “But I do think it’s time to give the suggestion that he could look at you as more than the friendly neighbor a chance.”

  “Ariel, you never use this many words to explain anything. You’re more of a blunt instrument. So stop talking around it and tell me what you think I should do.”

  “Well, I think you need to start flirting with him. I think you need to put the pressure on him to see you as a woman. Make him a little more uncomfortable; make him interested. No one’s saying how far you have to carry that out, but it would make your job a hell of a lot easier. Because this whole good neighbor routine isn’t getting you where you need to be, which is in his apartment, planting bugs.”

  “It's been two days. We just met. You need to give me time. Besides, we can plant bugs without me flirting with him. All we need is time when he’s away from the apartment.”

  “The key element here is time. Something we have very little of. With our watch schedule and you not being quite close enough to him yet to guarantee that he’ll be out long enough for me to plant bugs, it’s risky. You need to get closer to him, and you need to do it quickly because we will run out of time. King Cassius wants Sebastian home in a matter of weeks. We can't play the slow game. We don’t have time to screw about where you’re his neighbor who gives him some casseroles and fresh baked cookies or whatever. You need to get close to him—and quickly. You want him to want you close, where you can protect him better. I’m saying flirt. Not screw. You can do that, can't you?”

  I sighed as I pondered this. Sebastian was notorious. Many women far and wide had lost their panties in pursuit of the crown prince. Could I hold on to mine? Could I keep the job and my personal feelings separate? I hated it, but Ariel had a point. I did need to get closer to him, and he was keeping me at arm’s length, which meant I had to rely on Blake Security more than I was comfortable with. And as good as they were, he knew them, so they couldn’t get any closer than I could. “Okay, I’ll hear you out. What do you suggest?”

  Ariel grinned and clapped her hands, looking every bit a pixie fairy, which I happened to know she was not. This girl was all badass. She was just wrapped in a cute little package. Unfortunately, this package was also diabolical as hell.

  “Don’t worry. It won’t be so bad.”

  “I wish I could trust you.”

  “For starters, we need him to think about you naked. So my first suggestion is that I tamper with your water heater. Then you’re going to go over there and have a shower. Make sure you wear your silk kimono. You know the one that hugs your body. We’ll get you wet first, so it clings to you. He’ll see the outline of your boobs that way.”

  My bottom jaw unhinged. “What?”

  She shrugged. “Now is not the time to get squeamish. Now is the time to suck it up and throw on your big girl thong. We can do this. You just have to make him see you as a woman. Because even something as innocuous as that will make him start thinking about you naked. He’s a guy. The more he thinks about you, the more he wants to be around you. It’s easy as that. All you have to do is hold him at bay, which, as a woman, you’ve had a lot of practice at. How many guys have we bummed a few drinks off of in our lifetime?”

  I started to retort that what she was suggesting was sexist and wrong, but she sort of had a point. “So that’s your big plan? I go over there and get him lusting after me? What if I’m not even his type?”

  “Um, let me point out you’re a woman, so you’re his type. It’ll be easy. Besides, while you’re in there, you can plant a bug, hopefully more than one. At least that will give us his movements. So if he says anything about where he’s going and how long he is going to be out, then at least we know the time frame that I have to plant other bugs.”

  Unfortunately, that sounded like it might actually work. “Great. What else?”

  “We’re also going to have you play a little damsel in distress. You know, bitten by a spider. Ooh, even better, you see a mouse. Scream, have him come running over and ‘save you.’ Guys love that shit.”

  I shook my head. “You want me to get on a table and scream because I see a mouse?”

  Ariel grinned and nodded. “Exactly.”

  “I have a feeling I’m going to regret this.”

  She shrugged. “Possibly, but you will get your prince.”

  * * *

  Sebastian …

  I leaned over my light box, going over the pictures I’d taken the other day. They were good. A couple of them were great. I loved shooting in the city. For the Winston show, my main focus was love in the city. Some of them included nudes, which of course the old man wouldn’t be thrilled about. But I wanted to show a different kind of love, a love of the city. I’d been trying to get the photos right, but I wasn’t sold on any of these. “I need something fucking perfect,” I muttered to myself.

  A knock at the door made me stand and frown. No one ever came to my apartment. I kept a low profile. None of the tenants here knew that I was the owner of the building. I had a property management company that handled all of it. And well, Lucas still hadn’t taken me up on the offer to have another beer together, so he sure as hell didn’t know where I lived. So who the fuck was knocking on my door?

  I jogged over and looked through the peephole and sighed. All I saw was a mop of curly hair. Jesus Christ. Hell, I could feel it already. The twitch to be near her. Something about her fucked with my equilibrium. I just needed to keep her at a nice, neighborly arm’s length. I could do that. Easy.

  Besides, maybe she had a boyfriend. Not that you care.

  There had been a time not so long ago that a boyfriend wouldn’t have been an issue. But then, that’s not the kind of woman you want, is it?

  I sighed and tugged the door open and across the threshold stood Len. Her hair, a mass of wild curls, was pulled up on top of her head in some kind of messy knot situation. And fuck me, she was wearing a very thin kimono robe. One cursory glance told me I could nearly see her nipples through the fabric.

  With more effort than I was used to, I forced my eyes to meet hers. Instead of something intelligent coming out of my mouth, I said, “Why are you wet?”

  Cue Len’s runaway mouth. “Oh my God
. I was taking a shower, and I think the water heater just broke or something because the water went instantly cold. And I need to wash my hair. I can’t wash my hair in cold water. It’s freezing, like ice. Touch me.”

  She reached out her hand, and I jerked back. Pussy. Touching her when she was wet was not a fucking good idea. I wanted to. No. Don’t do it. You cannot withstand that temptation. Jesus fucking Christ, she’s wet and—My gaze slipped to her breasts again. She was certainly more than a handful. And I had big hands. I dragged my gaze back up to her eyes, but she was still talking about needing to deep condition too, holding her shower caddy in one hand while the V of her robe slid more and more open as she waved wildly with the other.

  I needed to get my shit together. “Len, stop.”

  She snapped her mouth shut.

  “You need to use my shower?”

  She nodded. “Oh my God, yes. Please … it won’t happen again. I already called the property manager. They said they’d have someone come to look at it tonight, but I have to meet a new model and my hair takes forever to dry. I don’t even have a blow dryer yet. Or I think I do. It’s just, the boxes I have aren’t unpacked, and you know how it is—”

  I held up a hand. “You said you were freezing. You should probably get in the shower.”

  She grinned. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” She shuffled past me, and I closed the door behind her. I forced myself to take three deep, fortifying breaths before I turned around. The problem was the view from the back was just as tempting. The kimono clung to her ass, accentuating her hips, and I just really wanted to know what she felt like.

  Nope, no you don’t. You are not curious about it at all. You don’t need that in your life. This one was a handful. Yeah, I’ll bet she’s a handful.

  That line of thinking was not helping me. “The shower is right through there down the hall.”