It was progress, dammit.
Even if she didn’t exactly know where she stood with Liam.
Lena dropped onto a stool behind the counter and chewed her thumbnail. Were they a real couple now? Was it too much to hope he would want to keep seeing her after he returned to Valeria? Or would this—whatever it was between them—end when he left in a few weeks?
The thought of losing Liam pierced her, a sharp pang of regret lodging itself deep in her chest.
They hadn’t really discussed what would come next. Not before and certainly not after. They’d pretty much let their hormones do the talking.
Rookie mistake.
Honestly, she ought to have known better. But even if they’d tried, she doubted her sex-addled brain would’ve been in any condition for real talk. Just putting her clothes back on had taken a Herculean effort and even then, she’d later discovered that her T-shirt was on backward.
She could only imagine what Jack and Ethan had made of their quickie in the office.
Her cheeks heated, though she couldn’t be sure if it was due to the fact that the bodyguards had likely heard her coming or the memory of sex with Liam, which had been…incredible. She’d never had back-to-back orgasms before and now that she knew what she’d been missing, she had zero interest in going back.
Sex with Liam had been electrifying. Intense. Satisfying. He’d done more than worship her body, he’d touched her soul, putting her needs and desires above his own. It had been so unexpected, and yet it was everything sex was supposed to be. It was everything she’d never known.
How the hell had she gone her entire adult life without this kind of connection?
Because she’d been settling for guys like Chad, that’s how.
Well, no more. Now that she knew what she’d been missing, there would be no more settling. So what if she was cursed with the world’s worst luck? It hadn’t scared Liam off.
Yet.
And technically she wasn’t sure he was hers.
Elena groaned, cursing her brain for instantly reverting to old patterns of behavior. Clearly this whole “staying positive” and “no settling” mantra was going to take some practice.
The bell over the door rang and Nia burst into the shop, a bakery bag dangling from one hand as she slammed the door behind her, shutting out the shouted questions of the paparazzi.
“Those assholes are multiplying faster than a family of cockroaches in Pelham Bay,” she said, glaring at the paps and giving them the one finger salute. “Don’t get me wrong, I like my celebrity gossip as much as the next girl, but come on. It’s like, enough already.”
Lena quirked a brow and shrugged. “Could be worse. It could be your face plastered all over the news.”
“Touché,” Nia conceded, tossing her the bakery bag. “I brought donuts. Figured we should celebrate all the new business with loads of sugar.”
“Best. Friend. Ever,” Lena said, unrolling the bag and helping herself to a sprinkled double chocolate. She took a bite and for possibly the first time in her adult life, didn’t question whether fried dough was better than sex. Maybe she’d been doing it wrong before or maybe she’d had the wrong partners, but Liam had proven donuts were a distant second to toe-curling orgasms.
“Ho-ly. Shit.” Nia was staring at her, eyes wide. “You fucked the prince, didn’t you?”
Flames licked at the back of Lena’s neck and she shoved another bite of the donut in her mouth, stalling. How could Nia tell? Was it that obvious? It wasn’t like she was wearing a Royally Fucked T-shirt.
And she was pretty sure her morning-after glow had faded two days ago.
“Oh, my God! You did!” Nia said, pointing a finger at her as she crossed the room. “I can see it in your eyes. Don’t you dare lie to me. I want details.”
Lena chewed slowly, debating her options. Nia had to be bluffing. There was no way she could know for sure. It wasn’t like they had security cameras in the office. “Have you been hitting the energy drinks again?” she asked through a mouthful of sugary sweet goodness. “I thought we agreed no more energy drinks for late night study sessions. They make you…” She made a loopy motion with her hand.
“Nuh-uh,” Nia said, shaking her head. “Don’t change the subject. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.” She sighed dramatically and grabbed the donut bag. “Are we even real friends?” she asked, fishing a donut topped with fruity cereal out of the bag. “Thirty plus messages about business and my exams, and you don’t even bother telling me you boned a prince?” She took a giant bite of the donut, tearing it viciously with her teeth. “I mean, that should’ve been text number one. Honestly, how hard is it to send a simple, ‘I got some royal ass last night’ message to your best friend?”
She paused, waiting expectantly.
“Even if something happened—and I’m not saying it did—I would not be texting about it,” Lena said, staring pointedly at the mob of paps loitering out front of the shop.
“Whatever,” Nia retorted, taking another bite of her donut as if she herself hadn’t just been bitching about the intrusion of cockroaches outside. “So, how was it?” she asked, wiggling her brows.
“We are not talking about this,” Lena said, tearing a paper towel from the roll under the counter and wiping her hands. Talking about it might mean admitting her feelings for Liam were…evolving. And while she could acknowledge on a cerebral level that she was drawn to more than his sculpted abs—the man had a great sense of humor, gave endlessly of himself, and had a protective streak a mile wide—she knew there was no future for them.
“Oh, come on. It’s the royal penis. You have to give me something.” Nia pulled a bit of cereal off her donut and popped it in her mouth. “Was it divine? Did his royal scepter ruin you for all other men?”
Obviously. Was it even a real question?
“So not talking about this.”
“I’ll bet it has its own code name,” Nia mused, ignoring her. “Rumor has it Prince Alexander’s penis is called—”
“Honestly, if you’re so curious about royal penises,” Lena said, giving her friend a saccharine smile, “perhaps Liam can introduce you to Xander? He’s single.”
Nia snorted. “Girl, please. Every woman with a porn stash has seen that penis, myself included. No mystery there. Besides, I don’t want to sound like a slut shamer, but that cock has some serious mileage.”
Lena laughed. “And you’re definitely the jealous type.”
“Exactly. The first time his phone went off in bed, I’d be the one all over the tabloids.”
“God forbid,” Lena deadpanned, rolling her eyes.
“Besides,” Nia said, shooting her a smug grin, “I’m finally starting to make some progress with Ethan.”
“That reminds me,” Lena said, snapping her fingers. “You should come to dinner at Tía Rosa’s on Sunday. Liam will be there, which means Ethan and Jack will, too.”
“If you think my presence is going to distract your family from the fact that there’s a prince in the house,” Nia said, arching a brow, “you’re delusional.”
“So, I should tell Tía Rosa you’re busy?” There was no way Nia was going to turn down Tia Rosa’s cooking. And definitely not when the object of her obsession would be present.
“Of course not,” Nia said, making a point of ignoring Lena’s over-the-top victory dance. “It’ll give me a chance to work my charm on the man in black. I’m totally wearing him down, and you know what they say, the bigger they are, the harder they fall.”
…
Liam read the prospectus for the fifth time. He’d practically memorized the damn thing and he was more certain than ever that this was the deal he needed to close if he wanted to help stabilize his country and save his crown. His parents were too focused on tradition and Valeria’s position as a financial powerhouse. Sure, the country wasn’t as resource laden as s
ome of their neighbors, but they had strong infrastructure, great schools, and a beautiful central location. Their biggest problem was the creeping unemployment numbers. That was the issue they needed to solve if they wanted to stimulate the economy and settle the unrest.
“Fin!” he called, tossing the prospectus on the tiny hotel desk. He felt a twinge of guilt at making his friend work yet another weekend but quickly pushed it aside. Fin had known frequent weekends would be part of the job when he accepted the role. Unfortunately, Liam wasn’t the only one on call twenty-four seven.
Fin poked his head through the bedroom door, looking unusually harried. “Any luck getting the meeting with Spartan?”
“Working on it, sir.” Fin swiped at his brow, pushing a limp swath of hair back from his eyes. His tie was askew and he looked like he’d just done battle, though it was only half past ten. “Mr. Beyar is a very busy man.”
“What’s the holdup?” Liam returned, frustration stirring his gut. “They’ve made it clear they’re accepting proposals. Do I need to call him personally?”
“Actually, that’s not a bad idea. You might have better luck getting past his assistant than I have. A real bulldog, that one.” Fin sighed. “I’m half convinced she thinks your overtures are a prank. Short of parading you before her desk in person, I don’t know what else I can do to convince her that I do, in fact, represent the crown’s interests.”
Liam paused. It was unlike Fin to admit defeat. If he was having that much trouble getting past the gatekeeper, it wasn’t for lack of trying. “Get me the number. And get me an appointment with the Minister of Economy. I have some ideas I’d like to run by him before I meet with Spartan.”
“Yes, sir.”
Rain pelted the hotel window, an unwelcome reminder that the day was as bleak as his mood. He’d have to get creative with the Spartan proposal. He wasn’t about to let this deal slip through his fingers. Not when it could mean the difference between success and failure for the crown. Head of State and figurehead. Power and pomp.
Fin cleared his throat. “Is Elena confirmed for dinner at the Caridoso embassy next week?”
“Haven’t asked her yet.” Liam jerked his gaze from the window and met Fin’s disapproving stare. “Formal events make her nervous. I want to ensure everything is arranged so she doesn’t have to worry about a thing. Speaking of which, can you set up an appointment at Bergdorf’s with that personal shopper? I’d like Elena to choose her own dress for this event. She’ll be more comfortable that way. Not that you didn’t do a wonderful job before,” he added hastily, feeling obliged to throw his friend a bone.
Fin sniffed. “Of course I did. I have impeccable taste, as evidenced by your own wardrobe. You don’t think they named you World’s Most Eligible Bachelor for your good looks alone?”
Liam grinned. “Fair point.”
Fin shifted his weight and Liam could sense his friend had something else on his mind. It wasn’t like Fin to hold back, which meant the news—whatever it was—wasn’t good.
“Is there something else?” Liam asked.
“As your friend, I feel obliged to point out that the situation with Elena isn’t going to end well. You’re getting too involved.”
Liam waved Fin’s concerns off. It was his own fucking business and he wasn’t about to let the crown dictate his choices. Even if Fin was right.
He was getting too involved with Elena. It was impossible to deny after the night they’d spent together. The line between business and pleasure had been incinerated.
Completely. Irrevocably. Orgasmically.
And he wasn’t about to bloody apologize for it.
“Liam.”
He sighed. “What do you want me to say, Fin? Elena isn’t like any woman I’ve ever known.”
“Which is exactly why you shouldn’t lead her on.” There was no judgment in his tone but neither was there approval. Not that Liam had expected it. They both knew how the world worked.
“What would you have me do when her presence, her sass, the utter rightness of our connection is like a lifeline amid the chaos and stress of my daily life?” He closed his eyes and exhaled. “When I’m with her, I feel more myself than I have in ages. I don’t have to put on royal airs or pretend to be anything other than who I am.”
Elena didn’t expect him to behave like a prince, or put the well-being of the masses before himself. She only expected him to be himself.
It was fucking amazing.
He’d meant everything he said to Elena. He cared about her, and he wasn’t about to give her up. Not now.
“You aren’t like other people, Liam.” Fin at least had the decency to look apologetic. “You don’t get to have a fling. The whole world is watching. The crown is watching. Christ, it was bad enough when you were pretending, but now…”
Liam’s temper flared. “Don’t you think I know who and what I am? My whole life is about obligation.” Liam clenched his fist, his knuckles going white with tension. How the hell did Fin know he’d slept with Elena anyway? Were Jack and Ethan reporting in to him or had he done something to give it away himself? Not that it mattered. It was none of Fin’s—or anyone else’s—business. “I love my country, but what happens in my bedroom is private.” Fin opened his mouth to argue, and Liam silenced him with a glare. “I want to explore this relationship with Elena. Maybe fate put her in my path for a reason.”
“Yes, well, your parents aren’t content to wait on the hand of fate. They sent this.” Fin pulled a file from the stack in his arms. It was thick and black and entirely ominous. The file landed on Liam’s desk with a loud slap. “This portfolio contains dossiers on every eligible woman—Valerian or otherwise—who would be an appropriate match.”
The meaning was clear. Only the women in this file would ever gain the crown’s approval. And Elena’s name would never appear in this file. It didn’t matter that she was kind and compassionate. Or that her gentle heart and endless humor were the perfect complement to his own jaded spirit, because she lacked the pedigree expected of a future queen.
It was absurd. Antiquated. Outrageous. He didn’t need to open the file to know that not a single woman on the list could hold a candle to Elena. He didn’t give a damn if she could trace her family tree back five centuries or five decades, she was the one he wanted. No one else.
Liam blew out a breath. His mind was made up. His parents might not approve of his relationship with Elena, but he was going to see it through. All his life he’d put the needs of his people, of the crown, before his own.
No more.
He wasn’t going to give Elena up without a fight. He deserved a chance to explore the first honest thing in his life. And his relationship with Elena, despite its unusual beginning, was pure. Their attraction, their chemistry, the way he couldn’t stop thinking about her even now. It was like nothing he’d ever experienced, and he had no doubt that if he yielded now and chose a bride from the file, he’d never experience it again.
Elena was fire and passion. Creativity and determination. Hell, she was everything he hadn’t known he’d been missing. Everything he hadn’t known he wanted—or needed—in a partner.
Until now.
The Royal Marriages Act might dictate who would share his crown—someday—but it couldn’t dictate who would share his bed or his heart. Not now, not ever. It was an imperfect law, one that needed to be eliminated, not that his parents and their traditional beliefs would ever agree. But that was a problem for another day because, while he cared about Elena, he was far from ready to marry.
There was still time. He’d figure it out—later.
Chapter Fourteen
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Lena asked, turning to Liam as she wiped her palms on her ripped jeans. They were parked outside Tía Rosa’s house, and her cousins were already spilling out onto the front sidewalk. “It’s not too late to change yo
ur mind.”
They could still make a clean getaway. She’d apologize to her aunt later.
The corners of Liam’s lips curved upward, a smile slowly spreading across his handsome face. “And disappoint your aunt? Absolutely not.”
Coño. Why did the man have to be so stubborn?
Lena sighed. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“How bad can it be?” Liam asked, reaching over to massage her thigh. “It’s your family.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
In the front seat, Jack and Ethan exchanged a look that suggested they’d had enough awkward meet-the-family experiences to know exactly how bad it could be.
At least they weren’t going in blind.
She doubted Liam had ever been chased off a front stoop with a baseball bat or jumped a fence to avoid an overprotective cousin or been whacked on the head with a wooden spoon by an abuela who’d caught her favorite granddaughter making out with the neighborhood bad boy after curfew.
If he had, he’d have worn sneakers instead of soft leather loafers.
To be fair, he had dressed down for the occasion, ditching his usual suit for khakis and a polo. Not that it mattered. The man could wear a garbage bag and he’d still look like a walking orgasm.
“Might as well get it over with,” Lena muttered as Jack and Ethan climbed out and opened the doors for them, putting an end to all thoughts of orgasms.
Liam gave her a wicked smile, revealing his dimples. “I’ve been looking forward to this all week.”
“Hold that thought,” Lena said as a stream of aunts, uncles, and more cousins pushed through the front door to greet them, Ella and Dante leading the way.
“Prince William!” Ella said, dropping into a wobbly curtsy. Beside her, Dante bowed low. “Welcome to casa de Rivera.”
Liam took their antics in stride, easily returning the greeting while she had to smother a laugh with her hand.
“Thank you for having me,” he said. “It’s been ages since I had a home-cooked meal, and I am honored to be included in your family gathering.” He turned his attention back to Ella, offering her the flowers he’d brought for Tía Rosa, though he held on to the bottle of wine. “I brought these for your mom. Perhaps you could help me put them in water?”
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