by Kat Mizera
I glanced at him. “Are we ever going to talk about that?”
“You want to talk about my sex life?” He turned to me with guileless blue eyes that were just like my own.
I scowled. “Come on, don’t do that. You were married to a man and I had no idea you were gay. That’s not fair. I’m not some judgmental asshole you couldn’t share with.”
“I’m not gay,” he said quietly. “I’m bi. And I didn’t know I was bi until after you’d gone into hiding. Then some shit happened and I wound up exploring that side of myself. When I met Jesper, things snowballed out of control. I shouldn’t have married him because even though I care about him and the kids, he’s not the love of my life. But I was vulnerable and lonely and he was someone from home, from my life before Anwar took almost everything I cared about.”
“So…Jesper was a one-off?”
Daniil gave a half-shrug. “I don’t know. But there hasn’t been another man since him and I’m not attracted to any I’ve met so far. Maybe that’ll change going forward, I’m not trying to hide anything, but right now my interest has all been in women.”
“Fair enough.” I glanced over at Lennox.
“She’s lovely,” Daniil said after a moment. “I like her. Is it serious?”
“I think so. She’s pretty great. It’s hard, though. We barely spend any time together that isn’t working or in the bedroom.”
“You should remedy that.”
“When?” I looked at him. “We’re busy. It’s not just me. She works as many hours as I do, and with the kind of work we do, it’s not easy to just take a day off. When we’re in Limaj, it’s essentially twenty-four seven, though we sleep, of course.”
“I can step in for a couple of days right now, while we’re here in Vegas. Take her away, spend time as a couple. You have to. It’s not right to treat her like a convenience—let her know how you feel. Because if it gets to the point of marriage, no matter how small your role is in the royal family, she has to be prepared for it.”
“Oh, I think after today, she’s prepared. Veronique made a nuisance of herself.”
Daniil made a face. “She’s a menace. Why doesn’t her father rein her in? Yes, I know how sexist that sounds, but she’s literally crazy and makes him look bad on a daily basis. Why not have a talk with her or threaten to cut off her funds if she doesn’t knock it off?”
“Obviously, she’s not our daughter,” I laughed.
Daniil grinned. “Thank god.”
Damn, I’d missed this. I hadn’t spent a lot of time with Daniil prior to our self-imposed exile, simply because of our age difference and us being at university at different times and such, but there were always events. A family gathering, a holiday, something that brought us together multiple times a year. Daniil, Vardan and I would sit and drink, even when Daniil hadn’t been old enough, and talk until late in the night. About life, love, women, everything. Sometimes our father would join us, and those were the moments I’d clung to when life had been at its darkest.
Now that I was living in the light again, I still craved this closeness with my brother and sister. Erik was another brother to me, and our relationship transcended cousins or best friends, but Daniil was still my actual brother.
“So, are you going to do it?”
“Do what?” I’d forgotten what we were talking about as I’d slid down memory lane.
“Take Lennox away for a few days. Take her to New York, to a Broadway show and such. Visit the 9/11 Memorial—do normal vacation-y things. It’s important. Trust me. I didn’t nurture my marriage at all, and though my feelings for Jesper might not have been what they should have been, it might have worked had I tried harder.”
I hesitated but nodded. “That’s a wonderful idea, and you’re right—I should. Let me talk with Erik and Joe, make sure we can both be away.”
“Also, have you shown her Gustafhaven?”
I chuckled at the nickname for our family home. It had been my parents’ official residence until they’d given it to Vardan when he’d gotten engaged. They liked the ease of living at the palace and had a summer home in the south of France that they visited regularly. Giving Vardan the house we’d jokingly nicknamed Gustafhaven—after our last name and a fun play on words—had been a logical step. When he’d died, as next in line, I’d inherited it. Uncle Ben had done his best to assure it had been protected to the degree it could be during Anwar’s reign, and though some of the valuables inside had been taken, almost everything was intact. Vardan’s clothes were still in the closet of the master suite and there was a pile of wedding gifts that had never been touched in a corner of the guest room. He and his fiancée had been planning to marry in two months, but hadn’t lived to do so.
“No,” I said after a moment. “In fact, I’ve only been there once. The memories…the essence of our parents and Vardan was almost tangible. It freaked me out a little.”
“I get it. I couldn’t bring myself to go in, though I’ve driven past a few times.”
We shared a knowing glance.
“Are you two reminiscing about things that make us sad?” Elen asked, dropping onto my lap.
I smiled at her. “We were. But it’s okay. I was thinking of showing Gustafhaven to Lennox.”
She smiled too. “Oh, that’s a wonderful idea. Perhaps the two of you could fill it with little Gustafbabies and bring it back to life.”
We all laughed. Everything growing up had been Gustaf-something. Gustafhaven—which had irked my father to no end, though he came around eventually—Gustafdinner, Gustafholidays, etc. And now Gustafbabies. For some strange reason, that didn’t bother me in the least. In fact, it had a nice ring to it. Though I had no idea where Lennox stood on that subject. Did she even want kids? At this rate, even if we were to start trying immediately, I’d be forty before we had any kids, and part of me thought that was old.
“You’re not too old,” Elen said softly, kissing me on the cheek. “You’re young and strong and healthy. And you’ll be a great dad.”
I shifted uncomfortably. I’d given up on kids and marriage a long time ago, but now that it seemed possible again, I honestly didn’t know what to think or how to react.
“You’ve stunned him into silence,” Daniil laughed. “Trust me, brother—being a father is great.”
“I’m sure it is, but as you well know, the lifestyle we live isn’t always conducive to parenting and family life. I’d hate to bring kids into the world while I’m working a hundred hours a week and never see them.”
“At some point, something has to give, because that’s not sustainable long-term.”
“My feet are killing me.” Lennox dropped into the chair next to mine with a grin.
“I can massage them for you later,” I told her, leaning over for a kiss. My need to touch her seemed to be never-ending, because I kissed her all the damn time. Luckily, she appeared to like it.
“Sounds like a plan.” She gave me a flirtatious wink that made me chuckle.
30
Lennox
I slept soundly that night, surprised to see it was almost noon before I stirred. Sandor was sitting up in bed with a cup of coffee, doing something on his laptop, and I frowned.
“Why did you let me sleep so late?”
“We went to bed late,” he said. “And obviously you needed it.”
I sighed. “I can’t remember the last time I slept until noon.”
“Me either. I’ve only been up about half an hour.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “You want some coffee?”
“I can get it—” I began.
“I’ve got you.” He got up and poured me a cup from a carafe on the bedside table, handing it to me as I sat up.
“Thank you.”
“I have a proposition for you.”
“Okay.”
“Would you like to go to New York for a few days? Just the two of us?”
“I… How can we get away like that?”
“I spoke to Joe and Chains and e
verything is handled on this end. Things are a lot more mellow when we’re in Vegas, so I thought the timing was good for us to spend some quality time together away from work.”
“Are you sure?”
“About which thing?” he asked, sitting next to me. “That things are more mellow here or that the timing is good for us?”
“Both?” I took a sip of coffee. “I mean, you have to admit you’re a control freak. You trust Joe and Chains to take care of the family so we can get away?”
He reached for one of my hands. “It’s hard, for sure, but I can’t be in charge of everyone, night and day, every day. Right now, Erik and I haven’t even defined my place within his organization, so I can take some time off if I want to. I haven’t taken a real vacation in nearly thirteen years. I went on vacation with Casey and her family, of course, but I was still on alert, protecting everyone, so it wasn’t the same.”
“Wow.” I wound my fingers with his. “Then yes, let’s go. I haven’t been to New York in a long time and I’d love to spend time together not working.”
“Bring those heels,” he whispered. “I really liked seeing you in them.”
“You’ll be massaging my feet,” I told him with a grin.
“Deal.”
We left for New York two days later, on his uncle’s private jet since his uncle and aunt had decided to come too. Though we wouldn’t see each other on the trip, we would travel there and return home at the same time, which was convenient. I loved not having to go through regular terminals and wait in lines. I could get used to this part of living with royalty.
The limo dropped us off at our hotel first as Uncle Ben and Aunt Kari continued on to theirs. They were staying at the Waldorf Astoria but Sandor had booked us at the St. Regis. He said he liked the location better and he didn’t want to be at the same hotel as his aunt and uncle because he wanted to avoid inadvertent opportunities to hang out. We needed alone time, he’d said, and I agreed with him.
“Welcome, Your Highness.” The clerk at the desk addressed him formally, catching me off guard, but Sandor just smiled and handed him a black American Express card. I’d never seen him use a card before—he usually paid for everything cash—but it made sense that he’d need a card for a room at a place like this.
Our room was huge, with twelve-foot ceilings, chandeliers, and a fake fireplace with a marble mantel. Bathrobes hung in the bathroom, the fixtures all gleamed gold, and the room appeared to be stocked with every toiletry I could think of. This was extravagance I wasn’t used to, but Sandor didn’t even bat an eyelash, using the bathroom and then coming out and settling on the couch in the sitting room area.
“What would you like to do today?” he asked me. “It’s not even three o’clock, so we have a couple of hours to kill before dinner. Our reservations are for seven.”
“Do I have to get dressed up?” I asked him.
“Only if you want to. I’m a prince—no one is going to tell us what to wear.”
“Well, yeah, but I want to look right. I don’t want to wear jeans if every other woman in the place is in a dress and heels.”
“It’s a dress and heels kind of place,” he said. “Is that okay? I plan to wear jeans and a sport coat, but not a suit.”
“I don’t…have anything like that with me,” I admitted softly.
“Then let’s go shopping. Bloomingdale’s should have something for you.”
“How about the big Macy’s in Herald Square? I’ve never been and I read about it all the time.”
“Sure.”
I was a little freaked out because I rarely spent money on clothes and I’d never shopped at a Bloomingdale’s in my life. At least I’d been to Macy’s on occasion, so I felt more comfortable there. New York prices couldn’t be that extravagant there, could they? I couldn’t let him buy me clothes, but I also didn’t want to embarrass him. Not to mention, I was thirty-two years old and maybe it was time I added something other than jeans and cargo pants to my wardrobe. I had a boyfriend now and there were no rules that said I couldn’t be a tomboy most of the time and a girlie-girl some of the time.
We took a cab uptown and I felt like a little kid as we got out. The Macy’s was huge, unlike anything I’d seen in the malls I’d been to over the years. It was a little overwhelming as we walked in and were immediately assaulted by case after case of designer handbags. It occurred to me I couldn’t use my denim cross-body purse out to dinner tonight if I was wearing a dress and heels, so I headed for one of the counters, looking for something appropriate. Black? Small? Jesus, I sucked at being a girl.
“This one,” Sandor said gently, pointing out a flat Michael Kors clutch that was big enough for my phone, credit cards, some lipstick and keys.
I tried to surreptitiously check the price but he just pushed my hand away. “You wouldn’t be buying this stuff if not for me, so let me get it.”
“Oh, no, really, I can’t—” I began.
“Okay.” He took a breath. “I guess it’s time to have the talk.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“My mother, Uncle Ben and their other brother, Uncle Isak, owned the rights to most of the oil in Limaj. Forty percent of the profits go to running the country, the rest is ours. When King Isak started making moves toward a more conservative, theocratic government, Uncle Ben and my parents moved all of our family holdings to the U.S. and the U.K., and put the bulk of our money into either Swiss bank accounts or investments. All of us kids had large trust funds. When my parents were killed, all of their oil holdings came to us kids. The way it was set up, Anwar couldn’t keep them from us, and the money was funneled directly to our accounts.
“When I went into hiding, my share of the money went to Daniil and Elen, who of course, kept it for me, and invested it with their own. Now that I’m back, they’ve transferred my money to my own accounts and I’m…beyond wealthy. We’re talking many, many millions. If it was up to me, we’d be over in the Prada and Gucci stores, buying you one in every color, but I know that would make you uncomfortable. This bag is maybe two hundred dollars. Truly, let me do this for you. I understand it will take some getting used to, and I’m not trying to make you feel bad, but it will make me happy to shop for you. I’ve never done it. I barely shop for myself. So please, do this for me and be gracious. Please.”
I didn’t know what to say but yes. I should’ve known he was that wealthy, but I hadn’t, so it was mind-boggling. But money didn’t change who he was and I already knew the man, which made his net worth a cool, but completely unimportant, bonus.
“Okay,” I told him, “but then can we look at all the purses? I’ve never shopped without a budget before.”
“Absolutely.”
31
Sandor
Shopping for Lennox was a new experience for both of us. She’d always had a budget and I’d never had a girlfriend serious enough to take shopping. She didn’t try to act coy by looking at prices, but rather took her time to find something that was good quality and would last. We probably spent a little too much time with the purses, but then I got her into the clothing department and she tried on a handful of party dresses. One was the stereotypical little black dress. Short, formfitting and low-cut, showing off her incredible legs and slender physique. It was simple but stunning on her, and I couldn’t wait for her to wear it tonight.
The second dress was pink. A pale, baby pink made from soft, shimmery material. It was longer, falling to mid-calf, but with a slit up one side. It was the perfect dress to go dancing in, something that moved as she did, and the color somehow softened her. She’d been on the fence about it, but I loved it and insisted she get it. We also found shoes to match, a pair in black and another in a slightly darker shade of pink. Even if she only wore them to bed, I loved her in heels and they worked with the dresses.
The whole thing probably made her a tiny bit uncomfortable, but she was a good sport even though we had to rush back to the hotel so she could change in time for our reservation.
When she came out of the bathroom in the black dress, with incredibly high black heels, her hair falling in gentle waves around her shoulders, we almost didn’t leave. She seemed to get more beautiful as we spent more time together, and though that didn’t make sense, I didn’t question it. I was crazy about her and didn’t want to overthink things. I did that with pretty much everything else and this little getaway was about discovering who we were together, beyond work and the royal family.
“Is it okay?” she asked softly.
“Okay?” My voice was a little hoarse as I drank her in with my eyes. “It’s sensational. You’re beautiful, Lennox.” I shouldn’t have kissed her because she’d just put on lipstick, but I didn’t care. Our mouths moved together easily, and by the time I’d finished making love to her mouth, she was a little glassy-eyed.
“That’s not fair,” she whispered. “You got me all hot and bothered.”
I just smiled. “Go fix your lipstick.”
The next two days were two of the best of my entire life. It was a mini-vacation, stolen time with a woman I’d started to have strong feelings for, but it was much more. We had fun. Actual fun, talking and laughing in ways I never remembered enjoying with a woman. With anyone, really, not since childhood anyway. In the back of my mind, I’d wondered if we were as compatible as I’d thought we were, if we would have anything in common beyond work and sex.
It turned out that though we didn’t have a ton in common, we had a mutual love of adventure. She was happy to wander through unfamiliar neighborhoods, window-shopping and taking fun pictures of the plethora of wonderful architecture all over the city. She talked me into going ice skating in Central Park and I got her to go to the top of the Empire State Building. She said she wasn’t a fan of sushi, but agreed to go to a place I loved, since sushi was one of my favorite things, and tried everything. In the end, she wound up loving it, which made me happier than such a small thing should have.