Charlotte & Nate (Royals of Valleria #4)

by Marianne Knightly

  She didn’t mention that it wasn’t a loss you really got over; he’d likely learn that one day himself when one or both of parents passed away. She shook her head, realizing that if he did lose a parent, Valleria could very well lose their leader as well.

  She put the cup down and stood, pushing herself away from him and breaking their contact. She walked through the tall hedges towards the water, and watched while it rolled softly against the river banks.

  She expected the hand on her shoulder when it came a few long moments later. She expected it when he turned her to face him, and even expected the searching look she saw in his eyes. She spoke first, knowing what the question was before he even asked it.

  “Can you see now why we don’t fit? I’m the child of God-knows-who, discarded like trash by criminals, and an American on top of that who happens to be the hired help. We don’t make sense.”

  He didn’t speak at first, just continued his assessing gaze. “There’s one thing I’ve learned in my job, Charlotte. On paper, everything can seem black and white, yes or no, good or bad, fit or no fit. But there’s something else you need to consider.”

  “What’s that?” she asked warily.

  “That we fit pretty well like this.” He pulled her against him, nestling her head perfectly under his chin. “And also like this.” He moved her head and dropped his lips softly to hers. Wrapped in warm sweaters and comforting arms, bathed in the cool November moon, they took each other. She tasted the sweet, heady taste of rich, creamy chocolate and the underlying notes of sweet, caramelized onions from dinner. She wasn’t sure who stopped kissing first, but they both found themselves breathing sharply into the cold air, their breath leaving clouds of softly falling fog.

  She rested her head against his chest, and took a deep breath of his soft scent. She’d never known a man could have a scent that was overwhelming without smelling like it was. “That’s just physical.”

  He rubbed his hand along her spine. “It’s not just physical. It’s also a feeling.”

  “I can feel you what you mean by feeling.”

  He bumped his hips against her playfully. “I don’t mean that. At least not just that.” He cupped her head, his long, broad fingers easily sliding into silky strands. “Am I alone here? Do you feel anything for me?”

  She stared into the brown depths of his eyes. She wanted to lie, for both their sakes, but when she spoke it was the truth. “I’m attracted to you.”

  His face fell a little. If she hadn’t been looking so closely, she would have missed it. “So, it’s just physical for you? Nothing more?” he asked.

  Would it hurt to try? Something Lola said to her once rang in her mind. You take things too seriously, Charlie. There’s a time and place for that, of course, but make sure you get some smiles along the way, too.

  She decided to heed Lola’s advice, since she had been the closest thing Charlie’d ever had to a mother. “I’m not sure about ‘more’ at this moment, but I think we could try.”

  No sooner had the words been reluctantly spoken from her mouth when he pulled her tight against him in a fierce hug. She felt his lips brush her temple and a few ragged breaths against her skin. “You won’t regret it, I promise you.”

  She nuzzled the soft sweater on his chest, then rested her cheek against his heartbeat. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

  “I don’t. I’ll keep this one. You’ll see.”

  He held her for moments or maybe even minutes; in the still of the night, it was difficult to gauge the time. Finally, he pressed another kiss to her hair, then to her forehead, cheeks, and a gentle brush against her lips.

  He put an arm around her as he led her back to the blanket. “Let’s go back. I think we’ve both got long days ahead of us tomorrow.” After they packed up the basket and blankets, Nate held her hand as they walked slowly back to the palace. “I want to see you tomorrow, Charlotte.”

  “I’m working until six in the evening, but I’ve got to be up early the next day to prepare for the royal guests.”

  “The Australian Prime Minister? I’d almost forgotten he was coming. How about an early dinner then? Say six-thirty?”

  “All right. Where should we meet?”

  “Why don’t we dine in your room?”

  She stopped in the path and, joined as he was to her, he stopped as well. “My room?”

  “Unless you feel comfortable coming to my room?”

  She shook her head before he’d even finished speaking. “We can meet in my room. I’ll cook.”

  His eyes twinkled. “Will you really? What will you make for me?”

  His voice was seductive and entrancing, like the scent of hot toffee swirled into a pool of fudge brownies. “What would you like?”

  “Your favorite dish.”

  She blinked. “My favorite dish?”

  He stepped closer, his body sending waves of heat crackling towards her. “Treat me to your favorites, Charlotte.”

  She swallowed. “All right. If you call me ‘Charlie’, then I’ll make them for you.”

  He quirked an eyebrow. “I’d prefer you make them for yourself, Charlie.” He bent to whisper in her ear. “I can’t wait to taste you again, Charlie.”

  She wished she knew if he meant the food or her.

  Chapter 8

  A call from Marcello had roused Nate from an unbearably erotic dream. It had taken him several moments to get his breathing under control, by which time Marcello had left a message. He was haunted by images of him and Charlotte naked under the stars, their heated breaths and bodies warming even the cold ground under them while they moved against each other, Nate burying himself in her scorching body.

  Dreams like that were enough to drive a man insane. Nate was almost there himself.

  Nate took a blisteringly cold and quick shower and returned his brother’s call; Marcello requested a meeting in their father’s study before the day began. The news probably wasn’t good if they were still meeting unofficially.

  Pressed for time, Nate made an espresso con panna – a few shots of espresso with whipped cream, another vice of his – instead of coffee. He drank it quickly while he finished dressing, his dark gray suit matched with a white shirt and tie in Vallerian purple.

  By the time he entered his father’s study, he knew something was terribly wrong. His father’s forehead was creased with worry, and his piercing blue eyes were flashing. Alex sat in a chair, his head in his hands. Marcello was the only one standing, his arms crossed over his lean chest, his brown eyes narrowed as they watched Nate approach.

  “What’s happened?”

  Alex and Gabriel’s heads swiveled in Nate’s direction. “Sit down, my son.” Gabriel gestured to an open chair. “There is much to discuss.”

  Nate sat down, his eyes warily taking in the disappointed expressions on his family’s faces. What had he done now? He fleetingly wondered if this could possibly be about Charlie, but pushed that aside. His father would have spoken to him alone, if that was the issue. “Why are all of you looking at me like that?”

  Alex tried to keep an even face, but failed. “Like what?”

  Nate crossed his arms over his chest. “Like you’re about to tell me off for doing something wrong.” When the other three exchanged glances, Nate knew he had been right. He let out a sigh of resignation, relaxing his arms in the process. “What did I allegedly do now?”

  Marcello cleared his throat and spoke first. “I’ve narrowed down a list of suspects.”

  Nate shot out of his chair, his face going from benign to blazing in the span of a second. “And I suppose I’m on that fucking list, am I?” Why else would they stare at him like that, as if they almost wished he wasn’t part of the family?

  Alex stood, holding his hands up in front of him, as if he were approaching an unruly dog. “Calm down. No one here really believes you’re behind this.”

  Nate’s teeth ground against each other, his face contorted into a snarl. “What a comforting ba
ckhanded compliment. What the fuck is going on?”

  “I’ll explain,” Marcello spoke up and stepped forward, his posture stiff and braced for action. Nate could tell Marcello wanted to restrain him, or even punch his face. It wouldn’t be the first time he had, Nate thought ruefully, or likely even the last.

  “Then do it, and fast,” Nate ground out.

  Marcello paused for a beat before he spoke, as if trying to find the most diplomatic way to say what he needed to say. “The detective work you did helped quite a bit, Nate. It let us know that whoever is behind this covered their tracks, and well. There are different project leads for almost every single project, and the money siphoned from those projects did go to various accounts in Switzerland.”

  “I already told you that.”

  “I know,” Marcello said calmly in the face of Nate’s growing anger. “But, just as you think the now-deceased Calvin could have been involved or at least complicit in those activities, the evidence points to your involvement, too.”

  “What evidence?”

  “There’s a paper trail. It’s slim, but it’s there. Documents where you personally authorized transfers of funds, and approved projects and hired workers that don’t exist.”

  Nate shook his head. “That’s not my role as Minister, and it wasn’t Calvin’s either. We prepare the budget, monitor the economy and the stock markets, things like that. We wouldn’t approve something so elemental.”

  “I know, but the papers look convincing.”

  An ache settled deep inside Nate. “And you believe manufactured truth over your own fucking brother?” He turned to Gabriel. “You believe this over the word of your own fucking son?”

  “Nathaniel,” Gabriel said in a warning tone.

  “No, fuck that. You either believe me, believe in me, or you don’t.”

  Alex shook his head. “It’s not that we don’t believe you.”

  “It’s exactly like that. What the fuck did I do to deserve this? No matter what’s happening in the world, we’re supposed to have each other. We’re supposed to be there for each other.” He remembered a time long past when no one had been there for him, when he desperately needed them to be.

  Nate turned to his father again. “You asked me to take over the position of Minister, and I did it because you asked me to, because you said you needed me to. No matter what’s been in my past, have I ever once hesitated to help the family? The country?”

  None of the others spoke; they couldn’t deny the truth in Nate’s last words. “Well, I’m glad I finally know my place in this family.”

  Gabriel spoke up when Nate turned to leave. “Where are you going?”

  “To announce my resignation. Deliver your own damn budget to the Royal Council. You want to arrest me, do it, or leave me the fuck alone.”

  Alex reached out to grab his arm as he passed. “Nate, don’t be a fool. None of us think you’re behind this, but someone’s clearly trying to make it seem like it was your fault. Even our fault.”

  “Alexander is right, my son. You’re smart enough to connect the dots. I asked you to take over as Minister, now the damning evidence points to you. Someone wants the world to believe our family has stolen Valleria’s rightful funds from its people for our own gain. We can’t let them get away with it.”

  “You still think I had something to do with this.”

  “Unwittingly, yes,” Marcello admitted. “You’re right that you’ve always done what was asked of you. I just think you may have been involved without realizing it.”

  “So, I’m loyal, but incredibly stupid? Did you even bother checking the signature on those documents? Tracing any messages to verify if I, in fact, even sent them? Have you done your fucking job, Marcello, or are you just looking for a fucking scapegoat?”

  Gabriel stood up, his voice regal and brooking no response. “Enough. Marcello is still investigating, and he will know more later today,” he said with a pointed glance at Marcello, who nodded. “We still need to discuss the budget you’ve prepared, which I reviewed last night.”

  Nate didn’t want to spend another second in the small, stifling room. “Just send me your notes. I’ve got to leave.”

  Alex’s eyes widened. “Nate, you should stay and see what Papa has to say.”

  “I have no desire to listen to any of you right now.” Nate shook his head. “No matter how much you three may be disappointed in me right now, trust me, I am much more disappointed in you.” With that chilling statement, Nate walked out, slamming the door behind him.

  “Nathaniel,” his mother scolded as she rounded the corner. “Don’t be so brutal with the door, dear. What’s wrong?”

  “Ask your husband and your other sons.” Nate couldn’t talk to her, not in his current state. He knew he was likely to say something he might regret, like he’d just done to his father and brothers.

  “Nathaniel?” his mother called, her eyes now lush with worry. When Nate simply walked away, she gave him a last look before heading into Gabriel’s study. With one stern look and her hands on her hips, she had the three men inside cowering before her. “What’s wrong with my son?”

  “You have many sons, my dear,” Gabriel said, stalling for time. “Which particular one are you referring to?”

  “Don’t try that with me Gabriel Alexander Louis Santoro di Valleria.” Alex and Marcello winced at the use of their father’s full name; they only hoped they weren’t next.

  Gabriel sighed and told her about the evidence they’d found. “Of course we don’t believe Nathaniel was culpable, but if the evidence got out, the public may not agree with us.”

  Genevieve gave each of them a long, cold stare. It was difficult for her to do; she loved these men with every fiber of her being. She had borne Alex and Marcello – and seven other children besides – who all held her heart captive. Then, there was her husband, Gabriel: her lover, her best friend, the man who still made her heart skip a beat whenever he came into view. He’d been the first man to claim her heart, and he’d done a fairly good job with it.

  It was difficult in her position to prioritize – what came first? Being a Queen, or being a wife? Being a wife, or being a mother? Being a Queen, or raising the future king? Right now, her priority was for Nathaniel, and to ease the pain in his eyes and heart that she, as his mother, had clearly seen.

  “I am fully aware of the difficult situation we are facing, but turning on each other is not a solution.”

  “Mama, that’s not what we were doing,” Alex said, and then wished he hadn’t spoken up at all.

  “It’s exactly what you were doing. Fix this. Stand by your son and your brother. Or else.” On those final words that a mother could wield so effectively, she gave them each a pointed glare and walked out, slamming the door behind her as well. The three men inside waited until their mother’s footsteps receded before they let out a long breath.

  ***

  Charlie was pulling out a giant sheet cake from the oven when a voice called out to her.

  “Knock, knock. I hope I’m not interrupting.”

  Charlie whirled around, the cake still in her hands, when she heard Rebecca speak. The future Princess and Queen was in her kitchen! She suddenly forgot if she needed to curtsy or not and barely managed to hold onto the cake.

  Rebecca rushed forward, her high heels clicking quickly along the floor, and grabbed a towel from the counter, using it to help Charlie steady the cake in its hot pan.

  “Thank you, Your Highness,” Charlie said as they both put down the pan together.

  “I’m just ‘Rebecca’ and it was no trouble at all. Are you all right? I shouldn’t have startled you.”

  Charlie tugged at the hem of her chef’s jacket. “I’m just fine. Can I get you anything?”

  Rebecca waved her hand in dismissal, her amethyst and diamond engagement ring catching the light. “Not at all. I believe the Queen mentioned I would be stopping by?”

  “She mentioned that I should meet with you, but I wasn
’t aware of the timing. I apologize.”

  “There’s no need to apologize, as I was the one who arrived unannounced. Don’t worry about it. Why don’t we have a seat? I’ve asked Coco to arrange for a light tea while we talk.”

  “Oh. All right.” Charlie turned off the oven and made her way to a small table in the corner, the same table at which Nate had sat just two days ago. She licked her lips as she remembered his kisses, then bit them when she realized she was about to undergo essentially a second interview for Coco’s job.

  Charlie brushed idly at her coat while she sat down, and was pleased she had managed not to spill anything on it that morning. In contrast to Charlie’s pale skin and white coat, Rebecca’s olive skin glowed as bright as her smile. She was dressed elegantly in a knee-length, sleeveless sheath dress the color of dark red wine with matching shoes, and a dazzling broach of the Vallerian coat of arms set in gold and jewels was pinned just above her heart. A simple gold necklace and earrings, paired with a similar watch, completed her outfit. It was easy to see why Prince Alexander had become enthralled with her.