That first night I spent with Lola in my arms was possibly the best night of my life.

Actually, fuck “possibly.” It flat out was.

I didn’t stop with that first time, of course. After we caught our breath, I rolled her on top of me and let her ride me, moving slow at first until she came screaming, bouncing up and down on my cock as I filled her up all over again. I took her again after that, against the wall of the shower, before we slid into bed and I wrapped her in my arms.

Sweet, exquisite perfection.

We slept in. Actually, we slept in so much that when we both opened our eyes and saw the time, Lola yelped as she jumped from the bed. She was one of Princess Callie’s bridesmaids, of course, and apparently, there was a schedule.

“Hang on,” I growled, stopping her at the door and pulling her into my arms. She grinned, blushing as she fell into me.

“I’m going to be late,” she whispered.

“Ask me how much I care.”

She giggled, biting her lip as she playfully punched me. “Hey, it’s one of my best friend’s wedding, and it’s…” She made a face.

“To King Milton,” I finished, making the same face as her and making her giggle all over again.

“Alright, get,” I grumbled, playfully smacking her ass as she turned for the door. “But don’t be surprised if I find you and kidnap you later.”

She gasped dramatically. “A kidnapper? Uh oh, are you going to tie me up?”

She immediately blushed as soon as she said it, and my cock jumped at the thought.

“Only if you say please, baby girl,” I purred, pulling her into me and kissing her deeply.

* * *

Later, after she’d gone to meet with her friends, I got dressed and headed down to the lounge where I knew breakfast and coffee was being served to overnight guests. Hayden and Sven were arriving that day, but I knew Cole had arrived the night before.

“Morning sunshine.”

My friend winced as he looked up from his coffee before he realized who it was and grinned at me. “Hey, man.”

Cole had one of those reputations that always seemed to follow him — rebel, bad boy, trouble-maker, partier. The tabloid stories of him and various women — married or otherwise — or of his late night exploits and debauchery were a mile long, and legendary. Thing is, most if not all of them were bullshit or a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. But that didn’t seem to matter to my buddy. He actually seemed to revel in the negative press.

Of course, all the visible tattoos and that cocky attitude didn’t exactly do that rep of his any favors. Neither did the mean looking hangover it looked like he was nursing.

“Rough night?”

He frowned into his coffee. “Something like that.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry, by the way. I was gonna let you know when I got in last night—”

“Don’t worry about it.” I shrugged. “I—”

Fuck. I wanted to tell him. Hell, I wanted to tell the whole fucking world about Lola — to bellow it from a damn mountain top. But Winston’s words echoed in my ears. The warning about Shana and her vicious law team and private eyes wasn’t bullshit, and I knew it. And I knew what her having any scrap of evidence to work with could do.

“I had some work to do,” I finally mumbled out. A waiter strolled over and I ordered a black coffee.

“What the hell did you get up to last night?”

Cole shook his head. “Long story, man.”

“I’m all ears.”

He chuckled. “Later. When I can fucking think straight.”

He pushed his fingers through his dark hair, his sleeve pulling up and flashing some of his ink just as two ladies in waiting walked by, making them gasp and then quickly mutter disapprovingly amongst themselves as they briskly walked away.

I grinned. Yeah, that was us. It was why I was friends with the men I was friends with. None of us really fit the mold with the whole “royalty” thing. Well, I didn’t exactly have tattoos on my neck and my hands like Cole did, or other ink that couldn’t be hidden like Hayden. But I had my own “non-royal” traits. My thing with fixing up old cars and getting my hands dirty, for one. Or that I’d served real time in the military during one of the inter-kingdom wars twenty-five years before when I was a young man. It's not like there were a lot of royals who’d served active duty or had ever seen combat.

So, really none of us were the shining example of proper royalty. Maybe Sven, just because of the stern way carried himself, but even still.

Cole sighed, his fingers still rubbing his head, when I noticed something — something that triggered something I’d almost forgotten. My brow furrowed, my mind ticking as my eyes narrowed on the newer looking ink on his forearm.

A red rose.

“You got some new ink I see.”

Cole arched a brow at me, his eyes studying my face for half a second before he relaxed.

“Oh, yeah. You know me, can’t get enough.”

I nodded, but inside, I was connecting the pieces. I’d seen another tattoo just like that one — also new. Also on someone who’d brushed it off when asked. It’d been the night I’d stormed into Lola’s room to find her naked from the shower. I’d gone downstairs later, when she was watching her movie with her friend, and I’d found myself lingering by the half open door to my home theater.

It’d just been for a second, but I knew what I’d heard. And seen.

Yeah, I’d seen someone else with a new rose tattoo squirming to get out of talking about it alright.

…Lola’s friend Faith, the Princess of Devoney.

“So.” I smiled benignly at Cole. “Where’s your usual harem that follows you around?”

He rolled his eyes. “Fuck off, man. That’s all gossip magazine bullshit rumors and you know it.”

There he went, stepping right into my trap.

“Rumors are typically born from reality.”

He frowned, shrugging. “Yeah? Which rumors are those?”

“The ones involving Princess LaFleur having the same fucking tattoo.”

Cole’s jaw went tight, and his eyes snapped to mine. His hand curled into a fist on the table top, and I smiled as I watched his lips pull back in a snarl.

“Watch it,” he growled. “I could say the same thing about you and rumors.”

It was my turn to bristle.

“Such as?”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

“Careful, Cole,” I growled.

“You and Lola?”

My teeth flashed, and my scowl was deep as I leaned across the table and narrowed my eyes at him.

“You need to—”

“I need to what? Be Blind?” He shook his head. “C’mon, man. Don’t come in here trying to hang me on some rumor when you’ve got your own skeletons. I see how you look— hey!” He held a hand up as I started to stand. “C’mon, sit. I’m not fucking judging, Xavier, I’m just saying I notice. Sven and Hayden do too, by the way, and they’re probably going to give you more shit about it than me.”

I sat, grumbling, my hands tightening to fists as my pulse roared.

“I’m not wrong, am I?”

I glanced at my friend. I didn’t say anything, but then, I didn’t have to. It wasn’t that I couldn’t keep a poker face, it’s that I just didn’t care to any more. Not when it came to her.

“Well, shit,” he whistled, shaking his head. “I guess I don’t have to tell you that people will talk.”

“Fuck people.”

He chuckled, raising his coffee cup in a toast. “And that is why we’re such good friends, old man.”

“Oh now you’re just asking to get your ass kicked.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Look, I’m just saying figure it out before it gets figured out for you. You know?”

* * *

An hour later, I was back in my quarters, pacing the room. I moved past the bed, my fingers trailing over the sheets where she’d become mine. I imagined I could still feel the warmth of her, even if I knew it was long gone. And then I tried to imagine never feeling that warmth again, and something tightened in me.

I didn’t have to think. I didn’t have to plan it out, or weigh my options. Figure it out, huh?

…Winston, my lawyer, picked up on the second ring.

“How’s the royal wed—”

“I need you to draw something up for me. A document. Immediately. I’ll email you the details.”

I hung up before he could say a word, dropping the phone on the side table as I let my fingers trace where she’d slept again.

Oh, I’d figured it out alright. And I knew exactly what I wanted.