by Dakota Rebel
I turned around and my jaw dropped. “You!”
“Me,” he agreed, shrugging his shoulders.
The handsome man from the balcony was standing there, looking just as sexy as he had the night before. Instead of a tux, he was wearing jeans and a black t-shirt. His hair was mussed as if he’d been running his hands through it for hours. And he was barefoot.
“You’re the prince of Gorgonia?”
“I am.” He walked over and held his hand out to me. “Sorry, we didn’t get properly introduced last night.”
“You seem to have found my number anyway.” I reached out and shook his hand.
“Yeah, I have guys that take care of things like that for me.”
“You have guys that track down women for you?” I felt my eyebrows raise. “Classy.”
“No!” He pulled his hand back and ran his fingers through his mop of hair. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Well, what did you mean? Why am I here? What do you want?” Questions tumbled out of my mouth as I tried to make sense of what was going on.
“Please.” He motioned to a set of wingback chairs by the window. “Sit down. I’ll have coffee brought in and explain.”
As we walked past the desk, his palm hit a bell and immediately a maid came in with a rolling cart. She placed it by the chairs, bowed and left without a word spoken.
“Wow.” I sat down and watched as he poured a cup of coffee.
“Milk? Sugar?”
“Black.” I said, accepting the mug and taking a sip while he prepared his own. It was the perfect temperature. “Dude, you’d better start talking.”
“My father passed away a few weeks ago.”
“I’m so sorry.” I looked down into my drink and wondered how I was supposed to respond to that. I mean, that sucked. I couldn’t imagine losing my either of my parents. He looked pretty young to be going through something like that. But I couldn’t help wondering what that had to do with me.
“Thank you. It was fairly unexpected. A heart attack, actually. Of course, with the king dead, I became heir to the throne.” He paused and sipped his coffee. “Except, my father added a requirement to me taking the crown. I must be married before my coronation. Saturday.”
“Okay. And?”
“And, I want you to be my queen.”
I set down my cup as my hands started to shake so badly that I worried I’d drop it on the white carpet. What in the actual fuck? Was he insane? Was he joking? Was I on Candid Camera? Was that show even on anymore? Do they have it in Gorgonia?
“Say something,” he said.
“Are you high?” I stood up, not really sure what I was doing, just needing to move. “You don’t even know me. I don’t know you. I don’t live here. Why the hell would you want me to be queen of anything?”
“You’re right. I mean, I’m not high. But the rest of it probably sounds pretty crazy. I mean, why would I pick you, of any woman in the world, to make the queen of my country? I must be nuts. And yet, here we are. I’m offering you more than I think you understand.”
“I don’t understand any of this,” I confirmed. “I’m assuming this means you plan to marry me? Do you even know my name?”
“Your name is Cora Jones. You’re here on a two-week school visa through the UNLV exchange program. You’re failing Algebra one, which I didn’t even know you could take at a college level. Your parents are George and Shelly Jones.”
“Fine. You got the bullet points from the dog hater. That’s not what I mean, and you know it.” This was completely out of hand. I’d known this asshat for five minutes and he wanted to marry me?
“Dog hater?”
“Focus!” I yelled. I flopped back into the chair. “Why on earth would you pick me for this?”
“Look, I’ve lived my entire life in this house. I was even tutored here, because I couldn’t attend regular classes. The only people I ever meet are dignitaries from other countries when I visit their houses, and people who come here. I’ve been a spoiled, pampered prince since the day I was born. You are the only person, other than Donovan, who has ever treated me like a person. Like a real man.” He blew out a sigh. “I realize that’s not a lot to base a marriage on. But Cora, it’s literally the only thing I have.”
“You’ve never left the house?” What kind of life was that? I mean, there were obviously bigger things to focus on in that moment, but it struck me as odd that he’d been so sheltered.
“I mean, I leave the house. But it’s not like I have actual friends. I’ve never dated before. My life is closed off and regimented. Being a royal is pretty in pictures, but it’s kind of lonely.”
How had he made being a prince sound like the worst gig ever? And after that sad story I was supposed to jump up and down about the prospect of joining him? It sounded like a total bummer.
“I know.” He laughed, setting his cup down and shifting in his seat to face me fully. “Poor little rich boy, right? Boo hoo, the prince has never been on a date. My life is actually really great. It’s just not social to the point that I’ve got a lot of options.”
“You’re a hot guy who’s about to become king. You have nothing but options.”
“I like you.” He shrugged, as if that rationalized everything.
“I don’t think I have enough sheep for my dowry,” I warned him.
“What are you talking about?”
“Oh, sorry. I thought you’d just transported us back to the dark ages when the monarchy could pick a woman out of a crowd and demand she marry him,” I explained. “Dude, I don’t even know your name.”
“Percy.” He said. “Prince Percy Shire, at your service.”
“Percy Shire? Are you sure you didn’t graduate from Hogwarts?”
“Very funny.”
“What house were you in?”
“Enough,” he snapped. “See, no one else would dare say something like that to me. You’re brash and honest and rude. You’re real and you treat me like a real person. If I must get married, I want someone that expects to be equals.”
“Okay, but listen carefully dude, I don’t have to get married. This is your issue, not mine. I cannot marry a guy I’ve known for thirty seconds. I just can’t.” Why was this even a conversation we were having? He had to understand how insane he sounded.
“I hear you,” he assured me. “Now hear me. I’m offering you a lifetime of being waited on hand and foot. No more Algebra. Shopping sprees and world travel and, of course, being the queen of an entire country.”
“You, sir, are looking for a gold digger. Which I am not.” Not that all that shit didn’t sound swell. Because it did. But I couldn’t do this. Could I?
“You could pretend to be,” he offered. “I’m not asking you to fall in love with me. I’m not even actually asking you to like me. I’m just asking you to use me for my money and power and prestige.”
“For how long?” I asked. If he wanted to play let’s make a deal, I could at least talk about it. I was already here, after all. And the no more Algebra sounded pretty fucking good the more I thought about it.
“Well, it’s a lifetime gig.”
“Yeah, that’s gonna be a no from me,” I said, getting to my feet again. “I can’t spend the rest of my life with a man I don’t love.” I held out my hand to him. “I appreciate the offer, Percy, but I’m not the girl for you.”
“Actually,” he said, shaking my hand firmly. “I think you’re the only girl for me.”
My heart sped up in my chest and I stared down at our hands. Why did that sound so damn sexy? Looking up to meet his gaze, a little bit of curiosity began to creep in.
Could I marry a prince? Soon to be a king? Plenty of people end up in loveless marriages. Maybe starting one that way was the secret. If we went into this with eyes wide open, would it really be such a bad thing?
“I’m not saying yes,” I warned him. “But why don’t you feed me, and we can talk about what this would entail.”
It was just food a
nd talking. I wasn’t agreeing to anything. There was no harm in discussing terms and obligations. And if, after everything was hashed out, the pros outweighed the cons…at least I could say I knew what I was getting into.
Chapter Four
~ Percy ~
“Normally there would be some kind of formal contract drawn up,” I said, as we finished our breakfast in the dining room. “Of course, in this case I can’t do that. No one can suspect anything fraudulent about our marriage. It’s going to look suspicious as it is, me marrying a commoner that as far as anyone knows, I don’t even associate with.”
“Commoner? Charming. You’re really good at this talking people into things thing,” she said, rolling her eyes.
God, she was cute. That mouth of hers, though. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to kiss it or just grab it and make her stop talking. She was equal parts obnoxious and adorable and it was driving me crazy. The more lippy she got, the more I wanted to get her married to me. She would be the perfect wife. I just knew, deep down, we were going to fall in love with each other.
In fact, I was pretty sure I already was. Not that I wanted her to know that. She already thought I was crazy. I couldn’t admit that I was starting to feel something for her on top of everything else.
“Sorry,” I said. “I just meant, I don’t want anyone trying to poke holes in our marriage. Since we can’t sign anything, we’ll need to be very specific in what we expect from each other.”
“How are you going to hold me to anything without an actual contract?” she asked, her gaze locked on mine. Her eyes widened as if an idea just occurred to her. “I know. Go get your wand! You can make me take an unbreakable vow.”
“Okay, first thing, stop with the Harry Potter shit.” She’d been doing it all morning and it was starting to wear on my nerves. But, like everything else about her, it was also kind of funny and endearing.
“Spoilsport,” she said with a pout. “Fine, we’ll go through the details and pinky swear on it like mature adults.”
What the hell was I getting myself into?
“I’m sorry,” she blurted out, before I could say anything else. “But there’s no way I can call you Percy.”
“It’s my name,” I said, rolling my eyes. There was nothing wrong with my name. It was a perfectly good, manly, classically royal name. She was being ridiculous.
“I know, but I’m going to have to give you a nickname.”
“Oh God,” I said, unable to keep the groan from my tone. “Like what?”
“I’m not sure yet,” she said, sucking her lower lip between her teeth. “I’ll come up with something though. I mean, if we do this.”
“Right. Well, can we get back to discussing the terms?”
She nodded, lifting herself up on the arms of the dining room chair to sit cross-legged in it. She leaned forward, elbows on the table, chin resting on her knuckles and stared at me intently.
“Actual first rule, and I cannot stress this enough, no cheating,” I said. “There are eyes and ears everywhere. As I said, people are going to be suspicious as it is. I won’t give anyone ammunition to consider our marriage a fraud.”
“But it would be a fraud,” she said.
“Well, it can’t look like one.” Every time I looked at her, I knew this was the right decision. But then she’d open that smart-ass mouth of hers and I’d question it all over again. “When we’re at the palace,” I continued, forcing myself to keep going. “We can keep separate rooms. But when we travel we’ll have to share a bed.”
The next point was going to be the only part I’d consider an actual deal-breaker for her. Even if she wasn’t a gold digger, as she so eloquently put it, the draw of being a queen couldn’t be completely untempting.
“We’ll have to produce an heir.” I paused, waiting for the explosion…but it didn’t come. She just kept those wide, bright eyes gazing into mine, not a tick of emotion crossing her face. Strange. “After a decent amount of time has passed, to avoid the look of a shotgun wedding, of course. If the thought of traditional conception is unappealing to you, we can use the services of a discreet family doctor to perform insemination.”
“Is all of this really necessary?” she asked. Her tone was somber and for the first time since I met her, I couldn’t read her thoughts flying across her face.
“Yes,” I assured her. “We both need to make sure we’re going into this in complete agreement of all terms. I won’t get five years down the road and have to dissolve the marriage, give up my throne, because you didn’t understand what you’d signed up for.”
“Do you understand what you’re signing up for?” she asked. “I assume this deal goes both ways. Are you really content to live in a sexless marriage for the rest of your life?”
“I’ve made it twenty-six years without sex,” I said, careful not to sound defensive. “I don’t think it will be that big of a hardship.”
“Oh.” Her eyes got impossibly wider, then her cheeks went pink. “You really haven’t had a social life.”
“No,” I agreed.
“Well, there’s nothing wrong with that. I mean, I’m only nineteen, but I’ve never…had a social life either. So, we’re quite evenly matched on that front.”
“You don’t mind?” I asked, surprise creeping into my tone. “That I’m a virgin, I mean?”
“Do you mind?” she asked. “I don’t see the big deal about it one way or the other. One moment a person is, and then a moment later they aren’t.”
I nodded, unable to tear my gaze from her face. That’s when I knew that she’d agree to be my queen. Without actually saying a word of acknowledgement, a moment passed between us. We were young, attractive, single people who were about to become king and queen of Gorgonia.
“Would you like to see your suite?” I asked, getting to my feet and holding out my hand to her.
“Yes, please,” she agreed.
I led her upstairs, pointing out various ballrooms and guest rooms as we passed, but otherwise staying silent. She’d left her hand in mine and I refused to pull away. When we got to the fourth floor, I pointed to the left side of the hallway.
“Those are my rooms,” I said. “Please remember that this castle is your home. You’re free to go anywhere you wish, except perhaps my mother’s quarters on the second floor. Though, once she meets you she’ll let you know how she feels about your presence there. My rooms are yours as you wish to use them, at any time.”
“I guess I’ll see who has the better bathtub,” she teased, squeezing my hand. “Where’s my room?”
I tugged her arm to the right, before reluctantly releasing her to open the double doors to her suite. The maids had been working on it since the night before, opening the windows, changing the linens and freshening everything up. No one had used these rooms in decades, so even though they were cleaned regularly, I’d wanted them completely move-in ready.
“This is mine?” she asked, walking in and looking around. “All of this?”
The suite was the same size as mine. With living area, office, bedroom, ensuite and walk-in closet. She’d also have an office on the main floor that connected to mine, but I figured that wouldn’t be as exciting and I could show her that another time.
“All of it. The whole castle, really,” I reminded her. “But this is your private space. I won’t come in here unless invited.”
“So, I can traipse all over your room, but you can’t do the same?”
“I suppose I could, but I won’t,” I clarified. “This is yours. I want to make sure you have somewhere that you can escape if you need to. I’m not trying to take anything from you, Cora. I hope you understand that.”
“I do, actually,” she said, taking my hand back in hers. “This is incredible.” Her gaze locked onto the wall behind me. “What’s that?”
I turned around and smiled. “That’s your closet.”
She let go of me, striding quickly to another set of double doors. Throwing them open she gasped then giggled.
“We’ll go shopping this week,” I said, walking up behind her. “You’ll need more clothes than you can possibly imagine. I’ll have a seamstress in this afternoon to start fitting you for your wedding gown and your coronation gown. And, if you agree of course, we’ll send one of the maids for your things from the Micheners.”
“Well, that settles it.”
“You’ll marry me?” I asked.
“I mean, yeah. But that wasn’t what’s settled.” She turned back around and met my gaze, a smirk on her lips. “I’ve got your nickname.”
“Do I want to know?” I asked hesitantly, unsure what she could have possibly decided.
“Well, if you want to be my sugar daddy, I guess it’s only fair that I call you King Daddy.”
“You cannot call me that,” I insisted, backing up quickly. The words had shot straight to my dick, and I couldn’t bear the thought of her knowing that.
“Why?” she asked, taking a step toward me. “You don’t want me to call you daddy?”
“Please, stop,” I begged her. I was a little afraid that if she kept pushing, I’d do something crazy like grab her and kiss her senseless. Of course, part of me was hoping she’d keep at it, so I had an excuse to.
“Percy, if we’re going to be married, I think I ought to be allowed to flirt,” she argued.
“No, because I’m not forcing you into marriage to get you to sleep with me.” This was more to remind myself than her. If she wanted to flirt with me I was fine with it. But right that moment, I wanted nothing more than to throw her onto her bed and find out what all the fuss was about when it came to sex. And I was pretty sure that neither of us were ready for that.
“I’m not offering to sleep with you right now,” she insisted. “But, while you may be fine with a completely sexless marriage, I am not. That’s not to say I want to jump into bed with you immediately, but at some point, it would be nice to have the option, you know?”
“Well, I appreciate that, actually,” I said. “But maybe we could get to know each other before you start calling me daddy.” A visible shiver went through my body and her face lit up as she noticed.