by Vivian Wood
I start to cry, and Rex makes a strangled sound.
“No, it’s—” I struggle when he pulls me into his arms.
“Please don’t cry, Kit. I just… I want you to be able to trust me,” he says, bringing my head down to rest against his firm chest. “What do I have to do to make that happen?”
“I don’t know,” I say, but that’s a lie. I know what I want from him. The same thing I’ve always wanted. I want to be his, and I want to be the only one he wants.
Forever. Period.
I want to feel safe, knowing that he’ll see me through anything. I never want to have to hide again.
But I just stare up at him, wiping tears from my face, because I’m weak and I can’t seem to say any of it aloud. Even this conversation is too much for me, and it’s starting to break my fucking heart.
“Kit,” he sighs again.
“No, I understand,” I say, pushing away from him and trying to get to my feet.
“You understand what?” he asks, his tone going sharp.
“Just, you know. This is all impossible,” I say, waving my hand to indicate us both. “This is stupid, a little girl’s stupid dream, and I need to grow the fuck up.”
I manage to get myself on my feet and turn to leave the balcony, but Rex is too fast. He’s up on his feet, catching my wrist and yanking me back against the stone wall of his body. He can’t just let me go in peace, it seems.
“Kit, stop running away from me,” he says, turning me to face him once more.
“I’m just trying to do what’s best for both of us,” I tell him, my lower lip wobbling.
“You’re being a coward,” he says, those dark blue eyes burning into mine.
“Our history, our families — I really do understand, Rex,” I tell him earnestly.
“Kit, for fuck’s sake,” Rex growls. “Stop talking for three seconds so I can say what I need to say.”
I go still and quiet, breath catching in my chest as I lock gazes with him.
He draws in a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, then begins.
“Kit, I know I made a lot of mistakes in the past. I’m going to work to redeem myself for that, I swear to you.”
My brow furrows. If he’s going to reject me, I wish he’d just get it over with!
“Where are you going with this, Rex?”
A quick flash of humor crosses his face.
“Maybe if you weren’t so impatient, I could find a more romantic way to say it,” he tells me.
“Is there a romantic way to tell someone to fuck off?” I ask.
“I’m trying to tell you I love you,” he says.
That catches me, makes me freeze.
“What?” is all my confused brain can come up with.
“I love you, Kit. I always have, since we were kids.”
Then I’m just gaping at him like an idiot, which makes him laugh.
“Surely you can’t be that surprised,” he intones.
“I thought you were dumping me,” I say, blinking.
“Not unless you tell me you don’t feel the same way,” he says. He’s casual, almost teasing about it, but I catch the underlying note of apprehension in his voice.
“Rex…” I say, drawing the moment out. I slip my arms around his neck, leaning up on my tiptoes, and press my lips to his for a brief kiss. Then I look up at him again, all seriousness. “Of course I love you. I’ve been lost on you half my life.”
“Fuck, I’ve wanted to hear you say that for so long,” Rex whispers against my lips.
This doesn’t feel real. It’s too good, too sweet and perfect to be reality.
This is a fairytale, and Rex is the Prince… I’m no Aurora Rose, though.
I jump into his arms, wrapping my legs around his hips, and kiss him madly. He carries me a couple of steps until my back presses against the cool, smooth stone of the terrace wall. I’m already so hot for Rex that I’m pulling his shirt off, my hips working against his.
He manages to hike my skirt up around my hips, tugging at my garters, then whistles when he slides his hand up, up…
“No panties,” he growls into my ear. “Fuck, you’re a bad girl.”
“Just for you, though,” I promise.
“I think you just like the way I fuck you, Kitten,” he says, sliding two fingers deep inside me.
My laughter turns into a moan as he teases me, his lips on my neck, my collarbone. My hands clutch at his shoulders, pull at his shirt until I get it off.
I run my nails down the waves of muscle that define his shoulders and back, all the way to his perfectly-shaped ass. When I work my hand between us, trying to unzip his pants, he does me one better.
Rex holds me tight against the wall and unzips, then spreads my thighs and thrusts into my slick, aching core.
“Yes!” I say, raking my nails over his lower back. “Just like that.”
“Bloody hell, Kitten,” he breathes as he thrusts deep, again and again. “You are fucking perfection, you know that?”
I can only grin and moan as he takes me up against the wall, hard and fast and ruthless. He catches my knee with his arm, bringing it up against my chest, and suddenly I’m so tight that I can feel everything.
We both groan together, panting, and I know neither of us will last long.
“Tell me again,” Rex grits out against my ear. “Tell me, Kit.”
I know what he wants to hear.
“I love you, Alasdair Westwood,” I cry, and just like that Rex’s control snaps.
He fucks me wild and hard and reckless, until I shatter around him, until I scream his name. Only then does he come with a shout, sounding almost agonized as he jets inside me in long, hot pulses.
When he finally pulls out and releases my legs, I am trembling too hard to stand. I laugh as I stagger against him; for long seconds, we lean on each other, struggling for breath.
It feels… amazing.
Rex kisses me tenderly, cupping my face.
“Come inside, love. Let’s go to bed,” he says.
He slips an arm around my waist and guides me, and I let him.
I would follow him anywhere, I think.
When we wake up the next morning, there are news crews in every foreseeable direction, mobbing the first floor lobby and the grounds of the building.
Tired and not thinking, I make the mistake, of sticking my head over the terrace railing and looking down.
Instantly, there are a thousand camera flashes. Reporters hurl questions up at me like javelins.
I blink; I was honestly just out to check the weather.
I close the glass sliding doors behind me with a wince, then head back to find Rex still in bed.
“Is it nice out?” he asks. His arm is thrown over his eyes, and I can tell he’s not getting up anytime soon. To be fair, we fucked for hours upon hours last night, and I’m only up out of habit.
“It’s cloudy with a one hundred percent chance of rampant gossip and wild paparazzi,” I say.
I reach up and pat my hair, then frown. I can tell just from the feel of it that I have wild sex hair. The photos they got of me just now will not be flattering.
“You look gorgeous,” Rex says, peeking at me from under his forearm.
“Mmmhm. Well, no one’s going to see it anyway. I don’t think we’re ever getting out of the building again.”
“It’s a mob scene down there, eh?”
“Yep.”
“Come here,” Rex says, holding out his arms to me.
I crawl back in bed and tuck myself down with a sigh.
“This isn’t so bad, is it?” he asks.
“No, but… I’m hungry,” I whine.
“Do we have food?” he asks, looking thoughtful.
“Not unless you had some kind of psychiatric break and went shopping yourself,” I sigh.
“I need a personal assistant,” Rex mutters.
“You need a refrigerator with more than just wine and condiments,” I concede.
/> “So, until the heat dies down… I guess we just order in,” he says with a wink.
“How long do you think we’ll be stuck here?” I ask.
A slow grin spreads across his face.
“I hope it’s months,” he whispers.
He kisses me then, and we sink back down into the abyss once more.
A girl could get used to this…
17
Rex
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Marj asks, patting my arm.
We’re standing in the wings of the set where Leslie 360 is filmed. Leslie Mayer herself is onstage alone, recording the opening monologue of her popular evening interview show.
I’m going to be the subject of tonight’s show, and I’m trying to be calm and poised.
“I think I have to,” I tell her. “It’s been a few weeks since our scandal broke, on top all the crap with Mum and Prince Archie. And the video of Bram doing drugs… It’s not a very good time to be a royal, is it?”
“That it isn’t. I have to say, I heard that Rex might lose his position at his charity.”
“It’s true. I think… well, that’s what I’m here for, to fix things,” I sigh. “Set things straight. Rex asked me to come on and do the interview, because I’m more sympathetic than he is.”
“Well, that’s for damn sure. You’re going to be great, I’m absolutely sure of it,” Marj tells me.
I glance at Marj and smile, but we both know I’m beyond nervous. I’m wearing this knee-length lavender sheath dress that hides absolutely nothing, with my hair done up in a subtle knot and my grandmother’s pearls at my neck and earlobes.
It’s important that people see me like this, because the rumor that’s really run rampant this week is that I’m secretly pregnant again, but too famous to get a secret abortion.
The headlines went something like:
Katherine and Magnum: Inside Their Secret Relationship
Magnum Caught Racing, Fired From His Own Charity
Alasdair and Katherine: Their Six Year Long Affair
Katherine’s Ex: ‘She Was Pregnant Five Years Ago’
Lady Katherine: Miscarriage or ABORTION?
Katherine and Magnum Are SHACKED UP! See Photos Of Their New Pad!
Magnum’s Done It Twice: Lady Kitty Pregnant Again!!!
‘She’s Taken Care of It’: Housekeeper on Katherine’s SECOND Abortion
Queen to Lady Katherine: You’ll Never Be a Royal
Yeah, my life has spiraled out of control, really fast.
“Katherine? We’re ready for you,” a production assistant says. “As soon as Leslie calls your name, head on out there. Just like we rehearsed, okay?”
“Sure thing,” I say. I straighten my spine, she calls my name, and I stride out onstage to greet Leslie with a wide smile. She’s a fifty-something blonde done up in a chic Chanel dress not unlike my own, and her brown eyes sparkle with warmth when I reach her.
“Lady Katherine Saville, everyone!” Leslie announces to the live audience just a hundred yards. They applaud politely, though they seem a bit skeptical.
Leslie and I shake hands, I take the armchair next to hers, and she gets right down to business.
“Lady Saville…”
“Katherine, please,” I tell her.
“Katherine. There are so many rumors swirling about you and Prince Alasdair right now. Can you set the record straight for us?”
“Thank you, Leslie.” I take a deep breath and look straight at the camera. “Alasdair and I dated in high school. We weren’t terribly smart, and I’m afraid I did become pregnant. I had recently lost my father, and I was grieving. I moved away to college without telling anyone, and subsequently lost the pregnancy.”
“What would you have done if you hadn’t lost it? Would you have, as people suggest, terminated the pregnancy?”
I swallow and shake my head.
“Absolutely not. I believe in a woman’s right to choose, but I didn’t get that far. I have to tell you Leslie, the experience really changed me. When I was in crisis, I felt I had nowhere to turn, no one to talk about this with. I have a very privileged life, so I can only imagine what girls and women in more difficult financial and social circumstances feel. I’m planning to start a charity to help women through those times, actually.”
“The way your story came out in the press must be very difficult for you,” Leslie says.
“It really was. Charles Ford, the person I trusted most, recently sold my medical records to the tabloids. It’s not just tasteless and cruel, it’s illegal. Charges have been filed against him and against the persons who bought private information from him.”
“And it sounds like he’s told a lot of people other stories about you, things that aren’t true. How do you hope to sort fact from fiction?”
I take a deep breath.
“Well, this is the first step. I will do interviews, try to let people get to know me. Then they have to judge for themselves, I guess!” I tell her.
The audience actually applauds at that, which feels pretty good.
“Well, you seem perfectly lovely to me,” Leslie says with a smile.
“Thanks,” I say with a laugh. “I’m trying, to be sure.”
“Well, we’re not quite done with you, Katherine. We have a special guest here to see you,” Leslie tells me.
“Uhhh….” I say, looking around. The audience laughs. “Do you, now?”
“Prince Alasdair, will you come on out?” Leslie calls.
My heart leaps into my throat when I see Rex walk out onstage. He’s wearing this perfectly fitted navy suit, his blond hair artfully tousled, his ocean-blue eyes sparkling.
I stand up, confused, but I’m smiling.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“That’s not a very nice way to greet your man, is it?” he teases, and the audience applauds. I blush.
“Hi,” I say. He walks up and takes my hand, looking down at me. “What…”
Then he winks at me. Oh god, what is he doing?
Rex drops down onto one knee, keeping my hand in his.
“Rex, what are you doing?” I ask. I can hear the panicky tears in my voice, only moments away from becoming a reality.
“Lady Katherine Saville,” he says. “I’ve loved you as long as I can remember. We’ve been through hell together, and come back alive… because we’re strong together.”
“Rex, really.” I squirm.
He pulls out this white ring box and pops it open, showing me the enormous chocolate diamond ring inside. His mother’s wedding ring, I’m pretty sure.
I start to cry before he even gets the question out.
“Kitty, will you marry me?” he asks, arching a brow. The audience goes nuts, cheering wildly, and it just compounds my feeling of unreality.
I can’t help it. I let out this awkward chuckle, and Rex squeezes my fingers.
“So?” he asks.
I look at Leslie, then the audience, then press a hand to my eyes. I get really overwhelmed for a second, enough that I consider fleeing the stage.
Then Rex tugs my hand away from my eyes, and when I look down at him, I can tell that he’s not just playing to the crowd. I look at him and just… I know.
This is what I’ve wanted since the day I laid eyes on him.
“Of course I will,” I whisper, wrinkling my nose at him.
“Is that a yes?” Rex asks, trying to get me to say it loud enough for everyone else to hear.
“Yes!” I say, playing it up to the audience.
Everyone whistles and cheers. Rex slides the ring on my finger and stands up, pulling me close for a kiss.
I grin. “Is this real?”
Rex laughs and nods. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me now, Kitten.”
I roll my eyes and press my lips to his again.
“I can think of worse fates,” I say.
“Until we tell my grandfather,” Rex says with a wink.
I pull a face as we
walk offstage, laughing. I’m so excited I feel like I’m vibrating with it, drunk with it. Feeling silly, I slide my hand down and grab Rex’s ass.
His reaction is comical. First he’s surprised, then a little offended, then he gives me a scolding look.
“Princesses can’t just go around grabbing princes’ asses when they feel like it, you know,” he tells me. “As a Princess, you’ll have to behave with more decorum.”
Princess. Wow, that’s me.
“Is that so?” I ask, eyeing him.
“I fucking hope not, since I’m planning to drag you off into the coat closet and make you come every chance I get,” he says. “Show you why they really call me Prince Magnum.”
“You really are absolutely terrible,” I tell him.
“But I’m yours,” he says.
I melt into his arms, unable to stop the foolish grin that crosses my face because it’s true.
He is mine, and I’m his, and we’re really, honestly together.
At last.
18
Rex
“You are all worthless!” my grandfather thunders, looking for all the world like the top of his head is about to shoot off. He’s standing at the far end of the solarium, pacing back and forth in front of the windows.
Everyone else is sitting on chairs and small couches, all facing the King as he rants and raves. I say everyone else, because he’s called my sister, my cousins, and numerous others to bear witness as he publicly flagellates us all.
Not that it really matters. After I surprised Kit and proposed on live TV, our ratings exploded. Our story, our faces, are plastered all over every social media site and TV broadcast.
We’re being talked about at pubs, housewives are swapping stories about us.
We’re basically untouchable, as far as the people of Courtland are concerned.
Not that the King gives a shit about any of that, the old codger. He points to each of his grandchildren in turn, naming our sins.
“Degenerate gambler and drug addict!” he says to Bramford.