The Race
Page 52
Air nearly whooshed out of me, and I very nearly cheered.
Instead, I stabbed a chunk of mango, lifted it to my mouth, and chewed with the dainty little nibbles I’d been taught.
Inside, I was screaming three days. And not on the yacht.
I took another bite as my stomach unknotted. I’d been dreading being at sea with him more than anything. The confines of a boat made me claustrophobic just thinking about it. Not that I was claustrophobic. And not because the yacht was small.
It was anything but.
If I hadn’t been traded for it, I would have been in awe of the massive ship gliding majestically into port yesterday afternoon. My father had been pleased and gushed over the three pools, the dance floor, and the seemingly mile upon mile of gold leaf decorating everything from the bathroom fixtures to the walls.
“It’s over one hundred and twenty meters long,” Father had gushed during our tour. “And will sleep sixty-four with sixty-five crew.”
“I hope you enjoy it while I’m enslaved and frozen in Prince Vitalievich’s harem,” I’d quipped bitterly as he showed me the master suite. When he ignored me, I turned to face him. “Don’t you love me at all?”
Papa sighed and excused us from the group. I met my mother’s eye before we stepped out into the hall. His angry mask was back in place by the time he faced me again. “You will not embarrass me again, do you understand. Your hysterics are tiresome and ill-advised.”
Hysterics?
“He slapped me so hard I fell to the ground,” I reminded the man who’d sired me. My father only looked back at me with abject disappointment.
It wasn’t the first time I’d disappointed the great king. My very birth had been a disappointment. I’d seen video footage of the announcement that I’d been born a female. My father’s tight jaw and solemn eyes as the world learned that he had yet to be graced with an heir. The disappointment that was similar to what was on his deeply tanned features now.
“Then I suggest you do a better job of meeting his needs, Madeleina. I suggest you make him fall so deeply in love with you that he wants nothing more than to cherish you. You have the power, young lady, and you are wielding it unwisely.”
“But, Papa—”
“But, nothing, Madeleina,” he said sternly. “I will hear nothing more. You have languished all these years in the palace. Your mother and I deeply regret not insisting you wed when you were…” he searched for the right wording, “more malleable.”
I swept my arms out, touched the gold leaf on the wall. “But I’m sure this luxury soothes your wounds, now doesn’t it, Father?”
He raised his hand, and for a second, I thought he might strike me. I thought the prince’s temper had been contagious. Instead, he drew on his control, clenched his hand into a fist, and lowered it to his side.
“You test my patience, daughter,” he said, and his voice was almost weary now. The little girl inside of me wanted to throw my arms around him and beg him to hold me, to make it all better.
He wouldn’t, I knew.
It had been decreed.
It had been publicly announced.
It was done, just as he told me before.
“I’m sorry I was born female,” I said, one last stretch at defiance.
His gaze lingered on my face, but only for a moment before he turned and muttered, “Me too.”
TO BE CONTINUED...
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Alice Ward is a USA Today bestselling author whose books consistently break into the Top 100 on Amazon. Three of her books were Top 10 Amazon bestsellers, one of which - The Surprise - reached an all-time high of #4.
She writes hot and steamy contemporary romance novels and is prolific, releasing at least one new book every month. Her books are widely read, especially by women and any other lovers of the romance genre. My Stepbrother, My Lover, was her first smash hit.
Alice has been in love with love since she was a little girl. She had quite the collection of Barbie dolls growing up and spent much of her playtime crafting the perfect Barbie wedding day (and when she wasn’t doing that, she was working on attempting the perfect cartwheel).
When Alice outgrew Barbie dolls, she began to write her thoughts down in her diary. This was how she discovered that she had a knack for telling romantic stories. Her first fans were her close girlfriends, and her stories were a hit among them. They, along with her family, enthusiastically encouraged her love for writing.
Alice now lives in Miami with her wonderful, hunky husband. The beach is her all-time favorite place to relax with her laptop and write. When she needs a break from writing (and when no one’s looking) she loves thumbing through celebrity gossip magazines. It’s her guilty pleasure.
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COPYRIGHT AND DISCLAIMER
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2018 Alice Ward
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.
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