by Tracy Wolff
“His therapist will be here in the morning,” Kian says. “I’ve already arranged it.”
The doctor nods. “Good.”
“Can I go see him now?” I ask.
“Of course. Just remember, if he is still awake he’s going to be pretty out of it.”
I nod even as I rush toward the door. Halfway there, I remember that I’m not actually his family and I stop, looking back at Kian. “Do you want—”
His smile is strained, the skin pulled taut over his cheekbones as he answers, “You go. I’ll catch him when he wakes up.”
A better woman might have insisted he go first, but I’m not that woman. Garrett’s always been the good person in this relationship and I’m dying to see for myself that he’s okay. Dying to hold him in my arms and tell him how sorry I am for leaving him, even if he is asleep when I do it. I’ll tell him again tomorrow when he’s awake.
The hotel staff is gone when I make my way into the suite. They’ve cleaned everything up, and except for the boarded-up balcony doors and missing chairs, the room looks like it always has.
The bedroom door is closed and I knock softly, not wanting to startle Garrett by walking in.
“Come in,” he answers, but his voice is low and a little garbled, like he’s already half asleep.
I find him lying on his side in the bed, facing away from the door. He’s curled up, like he’s just waiting for another blow, and it shatters my already bruised and battered heart.
“Hi, baby,” I murmur as I climb onto the bed beside him. “You doing okay?”
He shrugs, but other than that he doesn’t move.
I rub a hand over his shoulders and down his spine. A light shudder is his only response.
“Do you want me to go?” I ask. “If you want to be alone—”
His hand comes up and grabs mine where it rests on his shoulder. He squeezes tight, tugs me closer.
It’s all the answer I need.
With a sigh, I kick off my shoes and cuddle up close to him in the rapidly darkening room.
Chapter 33
Garrett
I wake up to darkness. To warmth. To Lola’s arms and body wrapped around me like a blanket. It feels better than anything has in a long, long time.
It’s certainly better than I deserve after the bullshit I pulled last night.
My head is throbbing from the damn tranquilizer shot the doctor all but forced on me, and my mouth is filled with cotton. I want a drink, want to move, but the second I try to roll over, Lola stirs.
“You okay?” she asks sleepily.
Because I’m a coward, I don’t answer her. Instead, I pretend to still be asleep. I’m not ready to face what I did last night, and I’m sure as hell not ready to face the horror and disgust she must be feeling. She came back, only to find me acting like a monster.
I feel like such a fucking loser.
Lola doesn’t say anything else. Instead, she cuddles closer and presses a couple of warm, soft kisses to my shoulder. Then she settles back into sleep, her body still spooned around mine like she’s trying to protect me from the world.
I’m supposed to be the one who protects her. Instead, I’ve dragged her into hell without so much as an apology, let alone a second thought.
Is it any wonder the King doesn’t think I can handle the throne when I can’t even handle the shit in my head?
Lola stirs again, her body soft and pliant against mine as she presses kisses to the scars that run across my shoulders and back. Scars that obviously run bone deep.
I don’t move, partly because I’m still not ready to face her and partly because the feel of her lips on my skin is so overwhelming, so perfect, that it’s all I can concentrate on.
I can’t believe I almost lost her.
I can’t believe she came back.
“I know you’re awake,” she says, voice husky and sleep-worn. “You can’t hide from me forever.”
And fuck. Just fuck.
I roll over then—no use pretending if she’s going to call me on it. I’m not sure what I expect to see in her face, but it’s not the bone-deep tenderness that’s there. It’s not the love she doesn’t even try to hide. And it sure as hell isn’t the tears burning in the depths of her eyes.
“Don’t cry, sweetheart,” I tell her as I pull her close. I kiss her closed eyelids, skim my lips across her forehead and down her cheeks. “Please don’t cry. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
“You’re sorry?” she repeats, disbelieving. “I’m the one who left like a freaking coward. I’m the one who should be apologizing.”
“Is that why you left?” I ask. “Because you were afraid?”
“I left because I convinced myself it was better for you. And—”
“It’s not,” I interrupt.
“So I’ve figured out.” She takes a deep breath, then lets it out slowly. “And to answer your other question, yes. I left because I was afraid—afraid of what I felt for you, afraid that what you felt for me might not be as strong. Afraid that I was keeping you from your destiny.”
“I’m so sorry you felt that way.”
“Don’t!” she answers. “Please don’t you dare apologize to me. Not for the fact that I was a coward who couldn’t get her shit together.”
I laugh. I can’t help it. Lola has a way of being brutally honest and somehow funny as hell at the same time.
“Yeah, well, you came back to a monster who was completely out of control. I figure that’s worse.”
“I came back to a man who has every right to be in pain,” she responds, rolling me over so that she’s on top of me, her legs straddling my hips. “If you ask me, I’m surprised you haven’t trashed a room sooner. Hell, I’m surprised you haven’t trashed the whole world. I’m not sure I could have that much control. If I went through even a tenth of what you have, I’d probably burn the whole damn place to the ground.”
Trust Lola to make me laugh when I’m at my absolute lowest. She laughs along with me, but then her eyes turn serious. She reaches a hand up to my face and traces a delicate finger over the lines by my eyes, the grooves around my mouth. “You okay?”
I nod.
“Really? You’re not faking it this time?”
“I’m not faking it. And if I’m not okay now, for the first time I have faith that I will be at some not-so-distant date. That has to count for something, right?”
“It counts for a lot.” She smiles at me with soft, sky-blue eyes.
“I’m going to get more help. I’ll see Michael twice a week. I’ll open up more, do whatever he wants me to do.”
“I’m so glad.”
“And you won’t leave me, right? If I do all that?”
“Oh, Garrett, baby. I was an idiot to leave you the first time. You were right. I was scared to trust you, scared to think I mattered enough for you to stick around if things didn’t work out the way you hoped.”
“I love you—”
“I know.” She presses soft kisses to my lips. “I love you too. I just let old fears and old rejections get in my way. Even if Samuel hadn’t come down to get me yesterday, I’m pretty sure I would have found my way back up here. The longer I spent in my own hotel room, the more I missed you. It hurt like hell to leave you, so I figured out it was stupid to worry about losing you some nebulous time in the future when I was already suffering for walking away from you.”
“Don’t do that again. I’ll do my part to get healthy, but please. Please don’t leave me like that again.”
“I won’t. I couldn’t, even if I wanted to. I need you too much.” For a second I think she’s going to say more, but then she just leans forward and presses her mouth to mine.
It feels so good, she feels so good, and I can do nothing but drown in it. Drown in her as I let her tenderness wash away the
last of the filth inside of me.
After a few seconds, she starts to move away, but I slip a hand through her voluminous curls and cup the back of her head. I hold her in place just a little longer, pressing soft kisses to her lips until she moans into my mouth.
And still I’m not ready to let her go. Not now, when she’s so soft and warm and giving all around me. Not now, when the warmth of her is streaming through me like sunlight. Not now, when I finally have her back where she belongs.
So I don’t.
Instead, I slide my tongue along the seam of her lips. Delve inside the moment she opens to me. Stroke my tongue lazily against her own.
There’s a lot I need to do this morning, but for now I’m content to stay right here and steal these moments with Lola.
Content to swallow her cries down like rain.
Content to skim my lips over the velvet softness of her skin and drink her in.
And I’m more than content to slide my hands down to cup her ass. To lift her hips up and then lower her back down on my dick.
Lola gasps as I slide into her warm heat. Gasps again as I arch my hips to drive myself even deeper inside of her. She’s so slick, so hot, so sweet that I’d burrow deep within her if I could. Just bury myself in her until she washes away all the darkness inside of me.
But it’s not her job to heal me. She’s already filled so much of the dark, desperate void within me. I’ve got to do the rest.
And I will, after I make love to the only woman I’ve ever loved.
The heat builds between us slowly as she moves against me, her hips rising and falling of their own volition as she opens herself to me. As she softly calls my name. As she shatters around me, bathing me in the gentle warmth of her love.
And that’s when I know. When I really, really know. It doesn’t matter if I ever earn my father’s approval. And it doesn’t matter if I ever get the throne. As long as I have Lola, everything else can just work itself out.
She’s worth more than a crown, worth more than a kingdom.
I might have gone through hell to get here, but as I watch the sun rise outside our bedroom window, I know that right here, right now, I’m the luckiest man in the world.
Epilogue
Lola
“I don’t think I can do this.” My stomach churns sickly as I glance out the window at the crowds waiting below.
“You absolutely can do this,” Garrett says as he wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me against him.
“Exactly how many people are out there?”
“Would it help if you pictured them in their underwear?” Kian asks from across the room, where he’s lounging indolently on the couch. “It’s what Savvy does.”
“She’s a writer. She has a better imagination than I do.”
“It’s going to be fine,” Garrett soothes. “We’ll just step out on the balcony, I’ll say a few words, and then we’ll smile and wave as they take some pictures. What could be easier?”
“Anything.” I tug at the asymmetrical hem of my red Donna Karan suit jacket. “Anything could be easier.”
Garrett pulls back a little, then puts a finger under my chin and tilts my head up so that I can’t do anything but look into his gorgeous midnight-blue eyes. It’s been six months since that fateful evening in the George V, and we’ve been by each other’s side every single day. Garrett has come a long way since then—his eyes are clear and the nightmares, while not gone, are much less frequent.
“We don’t have to do this today,” he says. “If you need more time, I can—”
“No.” I cup his face in my hands and pull him down for a kiss. “I’m just being a wimp. You need to stop being so understanding and kick my butt out onto that balcony.”
“I’ll do it if he can’t,” Kian pipes up. “Now that Garrett is Crown Prince again, it’s been a while since I’ve had to kick anyone’s ass. It might be fun.”
“No one is kicking your ass,” Garrett tells me. “We’ll do this when you’re ready or we won’t do it at all.”
Strangely, it’s his willingness to say to hell with everything that cements my determination to go out there and do what needs to be done. Because I know it’s not just lip service. I know that no matter what I decide, Garrett will back me up 1,000 percent. This is his country and those are his people out there, waiting to see him. To see us. And still, he makes me the priority. Still, he makes sure I know that I matter to him, that I’ll always matter to him. How can I be nervous after that? And how can I do anything but show him the same level of care and commitment?
“I’m ready,” I tell him, after wiping a small smudge of my red lipstick off the corner of his mouth.
His brows go up. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
He smiles then, a bright, beautiful thing that lights up not just the room, but my heart as well. “Okay, then.” He holds out an arm for me. “Let’s do this.”
I take a deep breath and his arm. “Let’s do this,” I repeat, steadfastly ignoring the butterflies in my stomach.
We move forward, and Garrett opens the French doors leading out to the balcony that overlooks the front of Wildemar’s palace. The front of what will, very soon, be my home.
The crowd, made up of Wildemar’s citizens, tourists, and international journalists, grows hushed as we step outside. Garrett smiles at them and waves. They cheer excitedly. I wave too, which only makes them cheer more loudly.
When the furor finally dies down, Garrett tosses me a wicked grin and instead of launching into the carefully crafted, carefully rehearsed speech that has been approved by everyone from the palace PR people to the King himself, he says, “Thanks so much for braving the cold to come here today and meet Lola. I knew the day I met her that she was the one, for me and for Wildemar. But she’s a tad stubborn, so it’s taken her a little longer to come around. I’m pleased to announce that, after much coaxing, she’s finally agreed to marry me. So, please give a warm welcome to Wildemar’s next Queen.”
The crowd goes wild, both at Garrett’s ridiculous, heartfelt speech and at the astonished look on my face. I start to recover, start to wave to the crowd as the palace PR instructed me to do. But before I can so much as raise a hand, Garrett sweeps me off my feet and into his arms. Then he plants one on me, right there for the whole world to see.
“What are you doing?” I hiss when he finally pulls away.
“Making sure you don’t get cold feet,” he answers with a wink. “There’s no going back now.”
“There never was,” I tell him. “From the moment you hopped that fence, I’ve been yours.”
“And now everyone knows it,” he says as he pulls me in for another kiss.
For Emily McKay, because she’s the best
BY TRACY WOLFF
HRH
Royal Pain
Royal Treatment
Lightning
Down & Dirty
Hot & Heavy
Ethan Frost Novels
Ruined
Addicted
Exposed
Flawed
Hotwired
Accelerate
Other Books
Full Exposure
Tie Me Down
Play Me (serialization)
Lovegame
Extreme Risk Series
Shredded
Shattered
Slashed
PHOTO: © KEVIN GOURLEY
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author TRACY WOLFF lives in Texas and teaches writing at her local community college. She is married and the mother of three young sons.
tracywolffbooks.com
Facebook.com/TracyWolffAuthor
Twitter: @TracyWolff
Read on for an excerpt
from
Hot & Heavy
by Tracy Wolff
Available from Loveswept
Chapter 1
Sage
I’m bored. Like, really bored. I’ve spent most of the night at this ridiculous bachelorette party with people I barely know and I’m so ready for the night to be over. Normally, I have a strict only go to the parties of people I care about rule, but what was I supposed to do when Skye invited me to this thing? Say no?
Not super impressive considering we work together. Even less impressive considering, while my mom is off trying to reaffirm who she is by practicing spiritual meditation in India, I’m the boss. And the boss can’t blow off an employee invitation, no matter how much he or she wants to. Not when the business is as small and close-knit as ours is.
Which is why I’m sitting here in the middle of this ridiculously upscale bar watching women in penis hats swill drinks and talk dirty about whatever man happens to pass by the table…It’s my own personal version of hell and I’m pretty sure I’m doing a lousy job disguising that fact.
Then again, I’m not sure it matters considering I’m the only sober one at the table right now—which is obvious by both my lack of penis hat and my ability to keep my mouth shut no matter who walks by. Being the boss means I had to come to this little shindig. But there’s no boss or girl code in the world that says I have to wear a dick on my head or drink out of a straw shaped like one. And even if there was…well, that’s one code I’d have no trouble breaking.
“You need another drink,” Autumn—one of the other instructors at my mom’s yoga studio—tells me with a giggle. “Come on. Let’s go to the bar.”