Secret Heir_A Forbidden Love, Enemies to Lovers, Royal Romance

by MJ Prince

  He presses his lips against my hair, breathing me in and at his next words, I feel my own sharp intake of breath.

  “God, you were so beautiful tonight. I think I’ll remember the way you looked tonight for the rest of my life.”

  I try to shut the words out, but I feel them wrapping around my chest all the same.

  I don’t know how long we lie together like that, only that sometime later, sleep finally comes and there’s a stillness in me when I let it claim me.

  I wake up to the feeling of warmth and sunlight. Strong arms surround me, holding me, keeping me safe. It’s not a feeling that I’m used to—I’ve been alone for so long, never allowing myself to need anyone to give me that safety and comfort. As I let myself lie there in Raph’s arms, I let him do all of those things. I tell myself it’s because I’m barely awake, but part of me knows it’s because I’m tired of the cold, my body craves his warmth and in that moment, I let myself give in to that. I don’t allow myself to think about what’s happening or what will happen. I shut out the questions and rational thoughts, because it feels like none of those things belong in this moment.

  I shift in his arms so that I’m facing him and when he opens those vivid blue eyes, I forget to breathe for a moment.

  Neither of us says anything for a long while as we lie there in each other’s arms, gazes locked, bodies entwined, and it’s probably the most intimate thing I’ve ever experienced in my entire life.

  The morning sun is streaming in through the floor to ceiling windows, touching everything with its warmth. But Raph glows with a light all of his own. Everything about him is golden—the perfect hue of his golden skin, his sexily dishevelled ash blond hair like a halo surrounding him and that smile, which in that moment, is devoid of its usual arrogance, is so beautiful, that it’s impossible to look at without losing all coherent thought.

  I didn’t realize how much I’d been working to block out the effect that he has on me, until I let myself feel it all in that moment. His very presence makes every fiber in my being come alive and everywhere we touch, I feel the fire. Like that very first day on the beach, I get the feeling like I’ve been sleep walking until now and looking at him is like waking up.

  I realize that I, on the other hand, must look like an utter mess. I’m still wearing the red dress from last night. But I’m also still sporting last night’s make-up and I can bet that the smoky eye look has probably now turned into more of a panda-eye look. But the way that Raph is looking at me, those heated blue eyes traveling every inch of my face, as if trying to memorize every detail, makes me forget about all of that just then.

  I remember his words from last night—you’re so goddamn beautiful, Jaz, it’s almost unreal.

  I’ve always thought that about him but I couldn’t even begin to imagine that he thought the same about me. Suddenly, the memory of everything that he said to me last night comes flooding back and I don’t think I can lie there with him a minute longer without feeling like I’m going to burst into flames or something equally embarrassing.

  “I should probably jump in the shower and wash this gunk off my face,” I say finally, breaking the silence.

  A mischievous grin plays on those sensuous lips and before he can make a lewd remark, I leap out of my bed and head straight for my en-suite, shutting the door firmly behind me. Yeah, I’m definitely in need of a cold shower.

  When I emerge from the bathroom, freshly showered and feeling a little more rational, I find Raph stretched out on my bed, looking like he’s also just showered and changed last night’s tux for a grey t-shirt and faded jeans.

  My gaze falls on my open sketchbook that Raph is leafing through. Usually I’d be uncomfortable with someone looking at my sketches—they’re personal, reflections of memories which are sacred to me. But Raph already saw my painting of Rockford Cape that day in the art studio and as he studies the sketches of the same scene, I don’t feel any discomfort.

  “You really are one hell of an artist,” he says, as he looks up to find me watching him.

  “Thanks,” I reply, feeling the usual embarrassment at the compliment.

  “No—really. It sounds insane, but it’s like I can almost feel the wind and the sea breeze when I look at these sketches.”

  “That does sound insane,” I scoff, although an art teacher in one of my previous high schools once told me something similar.

  “I think it probably has to do with your powers—like you’ve always felt the connection, although you didn’t know what it was,” he says thoughtfully.

  His insightfulness surprises me. I realize that he’s probably right. I get the sense that my life before this place was nothing but a shadow, a faded image of the true picture. That before this place, I was nothing but a ghost—wandering through life, but not really living. I tell myself that it’s the vivid colors and breathtaking landscapes of this world that makes me feel alive. But something inside me knows that it’s not just those things. That the face before me now, so beautiful that it’s almost unreal, has something to do with it, too. Raph’s very presence makes every fiber in my being come alive and the thought is so frightening, that I can’t allow myself to even think it.

  I’ve been trying all morning not to think about what happened last night, but as Raph’s eyes lock onto mine just then, it’s impossible to keep the thoughts out of my mind. I don’t know what any of it means. I wanted the truth from Raph, I asked him for it, hated him for not being able to tell me. But now that he has, I have no idea what to do with it, and I get the sense that neither does he.

  I fiddle with the hem of my sleeve, feeling suddenly awkward, because now that I’m thinking about Raph’s words from last night, I have no idea what to say. But I’m saved from having to say anything because Raph is already speaking.

  “I want to see this place. Will you take me?” he asks.

  At first I don’t know what he’s asking, but as my gaze falls back to the sketch of Rockford Cape, I get it, although I have no idea how he thinks I can take him there.

  “Magnus told me that only Dynasty heads have keys to the portal. Why else do you think I’m still stuck here?” I reply.

  That last part seems to cast a shadow over those luminous blue eyes for a moment, but it’s swept away with a rather smug looking smile as he digs something out of his jeans pocket.

  “I swiped the St. Tristan key last night. Hopefully, I can get it back to the vault before anyone notices.”

  My eyes widen as I gape at the golden key laying in Raph’s palm. The engraving of the sun on the bow is near identical to the row of suns tattooed on Raph’s side. A million conflicting thoughts and feelings race through me. This key is my way home, back to Earth. Back to my life. If someone had asked me a couple of months ago if I wanted my old life back, I’d have said yes in a heartbeat. Now … now, I don’t know anything anymore.

  But that’s not what Raph is asking me. He’s asking me to take him to the one place that for so long has been my anchor. The place that is most sacred to me. I’d never felt the urge to share it with anyone else before, but just then, I can’t deny that something inside me does want him to see it. I’ve walked that familiar stretch of coastline each year alone for the past ten years, but now I want to walk along that shore with him by my side. The realization is insane, but undeniable all the same.

  Some part of me recalls Magnus’s warning about Earth not being safe for me anymore. I consider telling Raph, but remember Magnus’ words about the fact that the other Dynasties didn’t even know about this supposed threat. Not that I really know anything about it either. In fact, some part of me still doesn’t even believe that it’s true. Still, I don’t think Magnus will be very happy about this little outing.

  “Wait, isn’t it forbidden to go to Earth without special permission from the Dynasty heads?” I find myself asking.

  Raph just waves a hand dismissively.

  “What they don’t know …” He flashes me another wicked grin and the last of my
resistance falls away. Damn those dimples.

  “Okay,” I say finally.

  Raph smiles back at me and it’s not that arrogant smile which is infuriatingly beautiful but a small, intimate smile, which feels like it’s meant for me and me alone and it makes his beauty all the more devastating.

  He gets up then and holds the key out in front of him. At first nothing happens but I can sense Raph’s focus and then I can feel the air around me shifting like it did that day in the abandoned playground when Magnus opened the portal last.

  The atmosphere splits open and I can’t believe my eyes. I’d seen this happen once before, but the sight is still such a shock to my system. What feels like a storm blows through my bedroom and I let Raph take my hand and lead me into the portal.

  Starlight and rainbows surround us and I clutch onto Raph for dear life as we fall through the breath-taking spectrum of the vast universe.

  The last time I did this, I was scared out of my mind, but Raph’s arms are tight around me, holding me to him, as if he might never let go and the fear that I’d once felt is replaced by his warmth, his light and this time, I let myself feel it as he leads me through the void between our two worlds.

  24

  It was morning when we left Eden, but it’s twilight when we reach Earth, although the journey feels like it lasted only a few minutes. I don’t even try to figure out how the whole inter-dimensional travel thing works.

  But I’m glad for the twilight because Rockford Cape has always been the most beautiful at sunset. The sky is a glorious mix of blue and violet, with steaks of pink against the backdrop as twilight descends on the rickety pier. The amusement park’s lights reflect off the calm waters, making the scene look almost magical, although not in an otherworldly way. The scene is breathtaking in its natural beauty.

  Beside me, I can feel Raph’s excitement and wonder. He quite literally seems like a kid at an amusement park.

  We’re on our second round of this ridiculous fishing game where you have to pick out prizes with a fishing rod that I used to love so much when I was a kid. It hits me then how surreal all of this is. Never in my wildest imagination could I have thought that I’d be standing here with Raph, playing tacky amusement park games and enjoying myself more than I have in a long time.

  We ride on the Ferris wheel where Raph finds the dizzying view from the top exhilarating, whereas I quake at the height. Then he humors me by going on the ghost train with me which used to scare me shitless when I was a kid, but as I got older, realized was nothing more than a track lined with glow in the dark skeletons and plastic mannequins dressed as witches. We gorge on cotton candy, popcorn and hot dogs and then go back to playing a couple more games.

  The whole thing is so normal, so human, that I could almost imagine that we’re just two normal teenagers on a date. But of course, we’re not, and there’s nothing normal about Raph. I don’t fail to notice the looks that people are giving him, which reminds me of that. It’s similar to the look that people were giving Magnus when he came to Rodeo Ricky’s that night a few months ago—as if they can sense that Raph is totally out of place here, in this world. As if they can sense that there’s something about this guy that makes the very air around him come alive.

  But it’s more than just that, most people, mostly female, are openly gawking at him. As if they can’t help but look at him in the same way that they wouldn’t be able to help being drawn to an impossibly bright flash of light. They have no idea who he is, but it’s as if some primal part of them can sense the power and air of regal authority that surrounds him. As if there is some age-old instinct inside them, compelling them to bow down and worship the god walking among them. Raph certainly looks the part, too, with his halo of golden blonde hair, tall powerfully muscled body, face like an angel and those impossibly blue eyes. Hell, it’s impossible not to think that he’s some kind of higher being.

  The looks are disconcerting to say the least, but Raph doesn’t seem to notice, or at least he pretends not to. He’s spent his entire life being the center of attention and under constant scrutiny. The stares don’t seem to faze him at all. I used to find it arrogant, but now I think I find it admirable—his ability to stay unaffected in the face of such scrutiny.

  Despite enjoying myself, Magnus’s warning eats away at the back of my mind and I swear there are some moments when I can feel eyes on us, watching. But I brush the paranoia away. The only people watching are the people gawking at Raph and as disconcerting as that might be, it’s hardly dangerous.

  Raph hands me the fuzzy teddy bear that he’s just won.

  “What’s this for?” I ask, examining the stuffed animal dubiously.

  “Birthday present.”

  “It’s not my birthday,” I reply dryly.

  He flashes me a wicked grin.

  “I know it’s not.”

  My eyebrows raise in surprise. I’m pretty sure I haven’t told anyone when my birthday is. Only Magnus knew and that was from getting his hands on my birth certificate.

  “How do you know when my birthday is? Right. I remember. You’re a stalker.”

  He laughs in response.

  “It’s pretty hard not to notice when someone has the exact same birthday as me.”

  If I had been surprised earlier, now I’m utterly shocked.

  “What? You have the same birthday as me?”

  “The 31st of March, down to the very second.”

  “That’s … more than a little bizarre,” I reply.

  His smile only grows wider.

  “I think it’s fate trying to tell us that we’re made for each other.” His tone is light, but I wonder if he’s not entirely joking.

  Not knowing how to respond to that, or to the totally creepy fact that Raph and I were apparently born at exactly the same time, down to the very second as he says, I shift my attention to the fuzzy bear that I’m clutching. I eye the angel wings on the bear’s back and its blue eyes, and I shoot Raph a dry look which he returns with one of feigned innocence.

  “Is this meant to be you?” I ask, quirking an eyebrow at him.

  “No—why? Do you think there’s something angelic about my perfect face?” he asks with a cocky grin.

  I roll my eyes.

  “Don’t flatter yourself.” I lie because I definitely did think the first time I saw him that he looked exactly how I thought an angel might.

  “I think we both know that there is nothing angelic about you.”

  His grin turns wicked, and I regret my words because I’m now flushing so hard, I feel like my face is on fire.

  “Hmm. I don’t think you’ve given me the chance to show you just how un-angelic I can be … yet.”

  The promise in his words sends a thrill racing through me, although I try to stamp down on it. I’m well aware that despite all that he confessed to me last night, apart from holding me as we slept and again as we hurtled through the depths of time and space, he hasn’t made a single attempt to touch me or to kiss me. I try not to think about it because something inside me knows that when he does kiss me again, this time, he won’t stop. The thought of his lips moving on mine, for real this time, makes heat pool in my core and I so should not be feeling this way right in the middle of a goddamn amusement park.

  I can sense the anticipation building in both of us. The dull ache as sweet as it is almost painful, until the tension between us is so thick, that I’m almost choking on it. I’m too aware of every movement, every accidental brush of his hand against mine, every breath that he takes a few inches too close. I feel like I’m about to come out of my skin by the time we reach the photo booth near the pier entrance.

  I find myself thinking of the strip of photographs that was now lost along with all of the other memories of my mom. Raph notices the change in my expression and tugs at my hand gently.

  “I think we should make some new memories,” he says as he pulls me into the booth. I don’t have the chance to object because the next thing I know, I’m si
tting on his lap in the cramped booth and his arm is firmly around my waist.

  I shift on his lap and I don’t miss the way the bulge in his jeans hardens. I’m embarrassed as hell, but the burning look in those blue eyes, sears away any thought or feeling that isn’t about his lips on mine or his hands on my body. God, what is happening to me?

  He leans forward and just as I think he’s going to kiss me, he lowers those impossibly long golden lashes, shielding me from the intensity of his burning gaze as he feeds some coins into the slot next to the screen. I groan inwardly in frustration and part of me thinks he’s doing this on purpose, teasing me almost.

  Four flashes go off in succession as we sit there, our faces inches from each other’s, our gazes locked. Neither one of us even bothering to pose for the photographs. I wonder if they’ll even develop properly given all the fire and heat I can feel in the booth right now.

  The last flash goes off but neither one of us moves. Raph’s eyes are like twin flames as he raises a hand to cup my cheek and I feel the touch like a brand. He leans closer again but again, it’s not to kiss me. At least not on my lips.

  I feel his lips against my neck, at the sensitive spot where my pulse is hammering against my skin and my fingers are digging into his shoulders as he trails open mouthed kisses all along the side of my neck. He lets out a groan as he seems to breathe me in and it’s got to be the sexiest sound that I’ve ever heard in my entire life. The moan that comes out of my own mouth is one of equal abandon, because I can barely think past the feeling of his lips licking and sucking the sensitive skin along my neck in a way that tells me exactly what it will feel like to have him do that to my lips and other places, too.

  It’s impossible to remember that we’re still sitting in a photo booth in the middle of an amusement park, as my fingers find their way into his hair. I grip onto those silky strands and bring his head closer to my skin because nothing feels close enough. I can feel a shudder race through his powerful body as I move on his lap again, the softest part of me pressing down on the hardest part of him. I’m aware of the tremor racing through me and the way his body quakes as his hands travel over mine. Even through our clothing, I can feel the fire in his touch. The ache inside me is almost painful now, and I’m clutching at him to try to ease that ache, although I have no idea how.