Princess Arabelle

Hutton Everest is trying to kill me one suit at a time. Seeing that fine wool fitted to his athletic build is a glorious way to die.

The melted chocolate of his eyes causes my body to quiver under the intense gaze. There’s no question who my body belongs to, and my heart made up its mind back in Austin. I’m tempted to run into his arms and jump on him, mount him, kiss him all over, and mark that man as mine for everyone to see, but I have to be sensible. Act with propriety, as is expected of a future queen.

He speaks with my parents briefly and then heads my way. With a glass of wine in my hand, I’ve had the luxury of enjoying a few minutes of solitude by the fire. I’m happy to have him invade my space. “Princess Arabelle,” he greets, kissing my hand, then quickly placing one on the underside of my wrist. The gentle gesture always makes me weak in the knees. “You’re breathtakingly beautiful.”

Reaching up, I’m about to touch his tie but think better of it. Too many witnesses, and I’m so close to New York I can taste it. I’m not blowing it now. “You look incredibly debonair, Mr. Everest.”

“You clean up nicely, but I prefer you dirty.”

I giggle. Giggle like a schoolgirl. He does that to me. “My sister doesn’t. She told me I smelled after spending time with you. I should say she didn’t know we had been together or what we had done, but if I could, I would wear your scent all over me for days.” I sip my wine, not ashamed at all.

As he tucks his hands in his pockets, I wonder if he struggles not to touch me. Is he as weak to me as I am to him?

My mother joins us, her hands clasped in front of her. “Good evening, Mr. Everest.”

“Good evening, Queen Aemelia,” Hutton replies with a bow. He’s so charming.

I can tell my mother thinks so by the way she smiles at him. It’s a less-guarded grin reaching her eyes. She says, “You have quite the cheerleaders in your corner regarding the communications package and media deal.”

“Is that right?”

“Jakob has been very impressed with your innovative way of approaching our needs.”

His eyes glance at me. “I try to meet any needs before they arise.”

“It seems. Then our lovely Arabelle will be joining you in New York City to be our eyes on the ground.”

“I’m looking forward to showing her around. It’s quite a large operation.”

My mother replies, “I’m sure she can handle it.”

He smirks. “I know she can handle large operations.”

And I die . . .

With interest, he angles more toward her. “I’m curious what you want Princess Arabelle to see while she’s in the city. I like to be prepared. The corporate office might be uneventful unless . . .” He looks at me with the kindness of someone looking out for me, someone who cares about my well-being. My insides warm, and I know it’s not from the fire. “Seeing employees hard at work is of particular interest. Our network is housed in New Jersey, but since the princess has an interest in communications, I think she’ll enjoy seeing the studio we’re building in Brooklyn. It’s a fifty-million-dollar project that will be finished next year. It will also be where our media broadcasting division will be moved. So when we sign the deal—”

“If,” the queen corrects.

He chuckles, charming her like he did me. “I prefer when.”

“I’m sure you do, Mr. Everest.” Her tone is playful, matching her expression.

“There’s never been anything built like this. It’s under lock and key, protecting the top-secret technology. It’s quite a sight.”

“I’m sure it is. I look forward to my daughter reporting back.”

He says, “I think this trip will be quite productive,” and glances at me. “Hopefully helping the committee decide.” The queen looks pleased. Score one for Hutton and me. “Mr. Everest.” Looking toward the grand hallway, she adds, “Dinner is ready. Shall we?” When she levers her hand toward him, he picks up on the signal and offers his elbow. What he doesn’t realize is she’s just made a bold statement, elevating him to the next hierarchy of royal prestige. No one can walk in front of her, except her guards, but not just anyone can walk next to her either.

“I’d be honored, Queen Aemilia.”

Hutton looks at me and offers his other elbow, but I shake my head subtly. I stick to protocol and stay three feet behind her, following them to the dining room.

He escorts her to the head of the table and then with swagger makes his way to my seat, reaching it as quickly as I find it as if he already knew where I’d be. “You’re very good, Mr. Everest.”

“So I’m told.”

“Again, and humble.”

He pulls my chair out for me, and I slip my hands under my dress to straighten before I sit. He leans down as he scoots me in, and whispers, “It’s hard to be humble when one is built to please a queen.”

“I hope you’re referring to a future queen over a sitting royal.”

Laughing, he says, “Only a future and forever queen for me,” making my body tingle. He’d helped me work up quite the appetite earlier, but all I can think about is getting back in bed with him.

When he sits across from me, I start laughing. Margie says, “What is so funny, Princess Arabelle? I could really use a good laugh today.”

The guests, all seated, turn to me as I look at Margie. “Just happy.”

She flattens her napkin on her lap, eyeing me. “It’s wonderful to see you so happy again. Any particular reason?”

I’d shoot her a glare, but everyone is silently waiting for an answer as if I’d discovered the fountain of youth. My mother says, “My Arabelle always did love to travel to far-off lands.”

My father interjects, “Even if in her own head.”

I feel the pressure of Hutton’s shoe against the tip of mine. When I look up, I’m met with the kindest eyes I’ve ever seen. My mouth opens, but I catch myself before I speak.

He loves me. I feel it. I can see it. Does anyone else?

My mother continues as if my father never spoke a word. “She’s always wanted to travel to New York.”

“Yes, Mother, I can’t wait.”

“I’ve been cleared to travel with you.” Margie is smiling as if she just won some grand prize—pretty on the surface and fake as fuck underneath.

“Oh, I assumed you’d be too busy working.”

“Never too busy for you, Princess.”

The soup is served like it’s my saving grace. My gaze dips to the bowl in front of me. To the server, I whisper, “Thank you.” The knot that’s suddenly formed fills my stomach, making me worry. I’ve been so naïve. I need to stop acting like a princess and start thinking like a queen. Did I ever really think I’d get to spend this trip alone with him? Will Hutton and I have time alone, or will I be babysat the entire time?

Think like a queen.

Margie doesn’t control me. And if I’m careful, she won’t ever know a thing. I’ll formulate a new plan by morning.

Hutton says, “Trust me. It’s going to be an amazing trip.”

Through the courses, I start to realize Margie has no power over me or Hutton or our relationship. It doesn’t matter if we had a fight. I know when it comes down to our friendship that she’ll back me. Ultimately, she wants what I do, and that’s what’s best for our country and for me. If that’s Hutton, which my heart believes it is, then she’ll support us.

She just doesn’t realize that I’ve already fallen for him.

Fallen for him.

With my heart lumped in my throat, my gaze travels to the man on the other side of the table from me. Fallen for him . . . I haven’t fallen for Hutton Everest. I’ve crashed and burned for him.

I now wonder . . . did I subconsciously believe he could be the man who might sit next to me on the throne one day? I’ve always known the type of man I should marry—and that it was part of being queen—so had I already noted those qualities of respect and leadership in him from the beginning? The qualities I want in my life permanently.

Giving.

Caring.

Patient.

Loving.

Kind.

Respectful.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen him treat anyone with disrespect. I laugh to myself, inwardly rolling my eyes. The only exception is me when he’s pushing my buttons. I love the way he challenges me.

He doesn’t treat me like a princess he has to bow down to. He treats me with honor while also treating me as an equal.

“Did you save room for dessert, Princess?”

When my eyes meet his, I feel the heat from our connection rising inside and coloring my cheeks. “I always save room . . . for dessert.”

Magnetic.

He commands a room like no other man has tonight. Everyone is drawn to the dark-haired knight. Even his biggest rival is fascinated by Hutton’s charisma. He’s entertained us and has conversations with my father, the prince, and competitors as if they’re longtime friends, holding his own.

Hardworking.

Intelligent.

Supportive.

Maybe he’s not fully adjusted to the idea of me being a royal, but even as Ally, he was proud of my accomplishments. He’s the type of man who wouldn’t lose sight of who he is, and he’s not threatened by who I am.

“Arabelle?”

I turn to the sound of my name. My father says, “The duke asked you a question.”

Shifting to look toward the other end of the table, Duke Dick says, “I was asking if you were free for a stroll around the gardens after dinner.”

My eyes glance to my father, my stomach starting to sink. My father replies, “I informed him that you’re free to speak on your own behalf.”

“Am I?” The question is met with ire in my father’s eyes. Turning away to avoid him, I swallow hard and try not to look at the only ones I want to see. I know the answer to the question asked of me. I just don’t want to say it because, despite my father claiming I have free will, I know better. “Yes, sir.”

The duke says, “Splendid. As soon as Queen Aemilia is finished, we can head out. It’s supposed to be a full moon tonight.”

My mother stands, cheerily. “I’m finished. Please don’t let me keep you.”

Staring at Hutton’s hands, I keep my eyes locked down.

His fingers twitch, and then they’re gone, a napkin tossed in their place.

I’m dragged out from under the table by the chair being pulled back suddenly. What the hell? The duke holds out his hand for me. “Princess Arabelle.” A demand, not a request.

I don’t want to do this because I know what this is leading to. If the scene hadn’t been set for a proposal, my mother’s happy tone was a giveaway. Reaching up, I set mine in his, and it’s wrong. All wrong. Cold and kind of clammy. Thin and bony. Weak, like his personality.

When I dare to look up, Hutton’s eyes are caught on my hand that Dick is holding to help me up. Even though I whisk it away, Hutton says, “Please excuse me,” and walks out of the room, heaviness in every step. The other guests follow as if there’s entertainment in another room.

I can’t imagine Hutton will go to his room, but maybe his anger gets the best of him. I just hope he’s not angry with me.

Laughter echoes through the grand hallway where the dinner guests take their drinks and wander across to the library where this evening began. The duke stands, waiting on me, appearing pleased as punch as I get my glass topped to the brim with red wine before I leave with him.

I don’t take the offered elbow. Not his. I walk with my wine and my head held high, trying everything I can do to deter him from doing what I think he’s about to.

We walk through the arched doors to the veranda. The sky is clear. The moon is full and bright. The only chill in the air is the vibe I’m sending into the world. This better be snappy. I have an angry alpha to tend to . . .

Dick says, “You look lovely tonight, Arabelle.”

“Thank you. I prefer Princess.”

“Yes.” He chuckles. “You’ll make a beautiful queen. Speaking of, I spoke with the queen and prince this morning before I took our guests to Sutcliffe Castle.” He walks ahead of me, which in itself is considered ill-mannered, and I chug a good fourth of my wine before he turns back. “They said they would speak with you.”

“They did. I’m going to New York on Friday.”

“Oh.” His expression sours. “I was not informed of this decision.”

“Why would you be?”

“Well, I thought we’d start making the proper arrangements.”

He makes it sound like a funeral. It feels like one to me. “The only arrangements I’m making are for this business deal to close so we can move on in life.”

Dick says, “I agree. Put the pieces in place so when our engagement is announced, they’ll be ready for our first official appearance. Something about the Everests rubs me wrong.” Ironic because everything about Hutton rubs me right. “I’m leaning toward Yamagata.”

There’s so much I want to say about what he just did, but I need to get myself out of this situation. “Please be open-minded when it comes to the deal. I’ll send back a report with my thoughts, so everyone has all the necessary details to make an informed decision.” I take two gulps, not being ladylike at all in my rush to get out of here. “As for us, that’s tabled too. My parents advise. They don’t force.”

“But, Princess, this match was made the day you were born.”

Holding one hand up, I shake my head. “I will not be bartered or given in trade for the highest dowry. I’ll rule as I live—with thought and care. It’s the same for who I choose to marry.”

He scoffs. “You act as if your choice—love—plays a role in this decision.”

“For me, it does.”

“Tread lightly, Princess. You don’t have many offers on the table.”

He makes my blood boil. Remembering what Hutton told me about the manner in which the duke spoke to the staff makes me angry all over again. He doesn’t respect them, and he’ll never respect me either. Fuck him. He needs a swift reminder. Preferably to his little dick. Fuck him. “What are you saying? That no one wants me? You’d be wrong, sir.”

I turn away to go inside, but he snatches my arm, and I’m pulled back against him—his mouth to my ear—so fast that shock stiffens my muscles. “You’re as spoiled as your reputation.” His fingers dig into my arm. “You’d be lucky to marry into the Vaughns, Belle. So consider this my formal proposal.”

Yanking my arm from his clutches, I stay close to make sure he hears. “Speaking of treading lightly, watch how you speak to me, Duke, or that might be the last time you retain that name.”

I put my back to him and start up the stairs to the veranda. On the third step, I turn back, and say, “Just in case I wasn’t clear enough for you, the answer to your proposal is a resounding and permanent no.”