Chapter Fifteen
“What the hell , Parker?”
I’m leaning against the hood of Finley’s car. He’s such an obnoxious show off that he drove his fucking car to the clubhouse, rather than taking one of the chauffeured estate cars like every other guest would have. I’m sure he thought it would impress Sera and buy him a few minutes alone with her. Fuck him and his obnoxious car. I hope my ass is leaving a big fat dent.
I let Finley get closer before speaking. When he’s about five feet away and can clearly see my dead-serious expression, I lean forward. “I want you to stay the fuck away from Seraphina.”
He snorts. “Like I give a shit about what you want. Get the fuck off my car.”
I stay seated and stare at him, my gaze unwavering. “I’m not joking.”
When Pierre, my security chief, informed me that Finley had made dinner reservations at the clubhouse for himself and Sera, I asked him to keep an eye on things and let me know when their dinner was almost over so I can make sure Finley doesn’t get another second alone with her. It’s hard to tell what sort of ungentlemanly and possibly illegal things he has planned for Sera.
The manager of the clubhouse has been instructed to keep Sera occupied inside with idle chatter for a few minutes once she emerges from the ladies’ room. Meanwhile, I’m having a little chat with Finley outside. It can go nicely, or I can smash his face in, whichever he’d prefer — I don’t give a shit at this point.
“Get over yourself. She asked me out.”
“I don’t know what you did to make that happen, but don’t flatter yourself. It’s certainly not because she likes you.”
“Whatever you need to tell yourself, Parker. I know you’ve got a little thing for her. Everyone knows, it’s written all over your face.”
I keep staring. “Does that get under your skin?”
“You think I care about your stupid little crush? It means nothing. It’s pathetic, actually. I’ve got news for you — her parents and advisors? They approved me . Not you.”
“Only because they haven’t figured out yet what a snake in the grass you are. Just give it time.”
“What are you going to do? Go run and tattle on me?”
I shrug. “They might be interested to hear what I have to say.”
“As if anyone will believe what you say, Prince Playboy . Your reputation is in the gutter.”
“That’s exactly why they’d believe me. Who would know better about the little underworld you live in?”
Finley clenches his jaw. “You don’t know anything.”
“The women you’ve paid off to not bring charges? Yeah, I know about them. And your partnership with Johnston in that drug ring you two were running at Cathridge? I know about that, too. Shall I go on?”
“Good luck proving any of that.”
I stare at him, so tempted to mention the growing pile of evidence accumulating in my office safe and the secret investigative ministry I’ve convened, but I won’t. As much as I want to rub it in his face, I’d be a fool to give him a chance to spin more lies and cover his tracks before the ministry has finished their inquiry into his heinous crimes.
“I don’t have to prove it,” I say instead. “No one cares about proof, Finley. How do I know? Look at the headlines about me — judge, jury, and executioner, right there.”
He sneers at me with a satisfied smile. “You’ve gotten what you deserve.”
I shrug. “Maybe. But I would never stoop to your level, Finley. You’re a whole fucking different breed, aren’t you? I don’t force myself on women, you fucking slime . Or threaten to have naïve college freshmen falsely arrested and kicked out of school unless they agree to be drug mules. You’re the real danger around here, but I’m the one branded the troublemaker. So the word of the Crown Prince of Scandal, the most notorious royal in all of Ostwyn — that’ll count for something in this situation, don’t you think?”
“You wouldn’t,” he snarls.
“No? What do I have to lose, exactly? As you said, my reputation is already fucked. And even if it wasn’t, I’d set myself on fire to keep Seraphina out of your reach.”
“You say one word to Sera or her parents, and I’ll demolish you.”
Within a split second I’ve leapt off the car, and my right hand is around Finley’s throat, squeezing so hard I’m almost lifting him off the ground. My fingers are digging into his skin, the tendons in his neck straining under my hands.
“Don’t you ever fucking threaten me, you piece of shit.”
He makes gagging sounds, and his face turns red, but I hold tight for a few more moments and let him squirm, his hands clawing at my fingers desperately, before I finally let him go. He trips over his own feet and almost falls but finds his balance at the last minute and leans over, gasping for air.
“You’ll pay for that, Parker,” he rasps.
“It’s time for you to leave.”
He straightens up, his face still flushed and deep red marks on his throat. He tugs his suit, smoothing the lapels flat, and glances at the entrance of the clubhouse then back at me. “No, I’m waiting on Sera.”
I step toward him, and he flinches, stumbling backward a few paces. “She can make her way back to the palace without your help. You think for one Goddamn minute I’m letting her get back in that car with you? Get the fuck out of here Finley, you’re done.”
He hesitates, his eyes shifting between me and his silver coupe. I shake my head in disgust but turn and walk ten feet out into the parking lot, away from him, away from his car. When I turn back around, he’s still standing on the damn walkway.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake . I’m all the way over here, asshole. Just get in your car and leave.” I wave a hand at his car and wait expectantly.
He scampers over to the driver’s side, eyes trained on me the entire time.
“This isn’t finished,” he yells over the roof of his car. “I know how to make you pay, Parker.” Then he hurriedly climbs in and slams the door shut.
A second later, he revs the engine to life and peels out. I watch him drive up the hill and turn right onto Estate Drive — heading away from the palace. No doubt going to join his frat buddies at a bar somewhere and spin lies about me.
Just as his tail lights disappear out of sight, I hear the heavy doors of the clubhouse thud shut and look over to see Sera standing on the walkway, staring at me.
“Parker?”
I walk up to meet her. “Wow, you look amazing .”
She’s wearing a stunning red dress with a flared skirt in a retro style, like one of those flirty swing dresses from the 50s. It highlights all her curves in a way that just makes me want to rip it off her and kiss her from head to toe. My mouth is actually watering as I soak in every little detail of her, as if she’s a piece of cherry candy wrapped in shiny cellophane, and I’m dying for a taste of something sweet.
Sera tucks a strand of hair behind her right ear and blushes modestly. “Thanks.”
She looks way too good for Finley — too good for me, too, if I’m honest. But that shy smile, it makes my heart skip a beat. I’m living for that smile these days.
“Where is Finley?” Sera looks past me to the parking lot and frowns. “His car is gone.”
“Oh, he had to leave.” I give her a reassuring smile. “But I’ll make sure you get back safely. I’ll call for a car right now.” I pull my phone out of my pocket, but she puts her hand on mine.
“Don’t. It’s a lovely evening, why don’t we walk?”
The doors of the clubhouse burst open, and half a dozen people spill out onto the walkway, laughing and talking loudly. When they see me, they immediately get quiet and walk by us single file with their heads down. I automatically square my shoulders and straighten my spine, just as my predecessors have done for a millennia, as I modestly accept the respect of my subjects.
“Your Grace,” the first gentleman says, looking up briefly to nod at me.
I nod back. “Did you enjoy dinner?”
A blonde-haired woman gives a small curtsy as she walks by. “Yes, we did, Your Highness, thank you.”
They proceed out to the parking lot, and I turn back to Sera.
“I’m sorry, you were saying…?”
“Let’s walk back to the palace.”
“I have a better idea.”
“Oh?”
Car doors open and shut behind me, and I look over my shoulder, watching as two cars pull out of the parking lot. All clear. I step closer to Sera and rub a finger against the smooth red fabric hugging her stomach.
I lean into her and whisper, “You look so delicious right now, all I can think about is lifting that dress up.”
She bites her lip and looks up at me. “And doing what?”
“Kissing every inch of those sexy legs.”
Sera nestles closer to me, her breasts brushing my chest, the full skirt of her dress pressed against my legs. “And then what?”
“Licking your sweet pussy until you come on my face.”
A shiver runs through her, and she smiles wickedly, leaning into me harder. “Let’s get somewhere, fast ,” she whispers, a naughty gleam in her eyes.
Chapter Sixteen
“I know a place, just over this hill. Let’s go,” Parker says, nodding to the knoll rising steeply on the other side of the parking.
We start walking quickly across the parking lot, into the grassy hillside beyond. When we reach the soft grass, I pause for a second to slip off my heels and grasp them by the straps in one hand while Parker takes my other hand in his. We walk up the incline, leaning into it, our feet slipping now and then against the steep bank. Parker holds my hand tight, ensuring that I don’t fall, and finally we reach the crest of the hill.
At the top, I glance around. To our right, in the distance, is the palace, aglow with dozens of lights from the windows and exterior sconces. In front of us, several hundred feet away, is the silhouette of a large building and beyond it, a faint shimmer of rippling light — the boathouse and the lake.
“What do you think?” Parker asks.
I give him a sly look. “I think… you need to get me naked as soon as possible.”
“Well, stop standing here talking to me and start moving that fine ass toward the dock, my Lady.” He slaps me playfully on the rear, and I squeal.
Just then, a large raindrop splatters me on the nose, and another lands in my eyelashes.
Parker looks up at the sky. “We have about three seconds before we’re soaked.”
“First one to the lake gets to call the shots!” I yell. I don’t wait for his response. I take off running down the slope as fast as my legs will carry me, the hem of my dress kicking up in the breeze, my shoes bouncing wildly by the straps in my hand.
It’s only seconds before Parker passes me, shooting toward the water’s edge like a missile. But a moment later, he slows down, turns, and jogs back.
“I don’t care who calls the shots,” he laughs, grabbing my hand. “As long as we’re together. Come on!”
The rain is pouring down on us now, and we’re flying down the hill hand in hand, Parker leading the way, my bare feet digging into the wet grass. We pass the boathouse on the left and head straight to the dock.
“What are we doing?” I ask loudly when we finally stop on the large wooden platform, straining my voice to be heard over the roar of rain. “The boathouse is right there, it’ll be warm and dry.”
He grabs my face and kisses me, his lips firm and urgent against mine. I start to sink into his embrace, but he pulls back, looking into my eyes as the rain beats down on us.
“I want to be alone with you. Really, truly alone. Just us.”
He crouches at the edge of the dock, quickly untying a large rope. He unties a second rope and throws it onto the deck of a small boat. “This one isn’t fancy,” he yells over his shoulder, “it’s just a small weekender, but it’s reliable.”
Parker reaches his hand out and steadies me as I hop onto the boat. He’s right behind me and already has the engine going by the time I stumble to a seat.
He grabs a life jacket from a bin under one of the seats and hands it to me. “Put this on and then hang on, okay? These seats are slippery when it’s raining.”
I nod solemnly and slip the lifejacket on quickly, buckling it and tightening the straps before wrapping my hands around the metal railing next to my seat.
He puts the boat into gear, backing slowly away from the dock. Drops of water are hammering against my face, but I can’t take my eyes off of Parker. He’s standing behind the wheel as steady as a statue, expertly navigating us into open water, an intensity on his face that I haven’t seen before.
Soon, we’re clear of the harbor and zipping across the water. I cling to the railing as my hair twists into a whirlwind behind me. Once we’re going fast enough, the glass partition begins diverting the sting of the rain away from my face and I laugh with the full delight of my inner child, set free here on the lake tonight as I savor the thrill of being whisked away by Parker.
It’s just him and me.
And I want to soak in every moment of it
I briefly wonder where Parker’s supposed to be right now instead of zipping across the water with me, and if his security team is currently searching the palace grounds in a frenzy, and if Becky is waiting up for me to return from my date with Finley. But as we zip across the water I let all the thoughts go and I throw my head back, fill my lungs with the fresh, humid night air, all my worries growing distant, left behind.
After several minutes, Parker pulls back on the throttle, and the boat slows, bobbing slightly as the wake catches up with us. I glance over my shoulder, but I can’t see anything other than choppy water behind us. The mist of the rain has hidden the palace from view.
Parker drops down to cruising speed as he guides the boat through a narrow channel.
“Watch your head!” he yells.
The bank on either side is so close, the tree limbs have formed a tunnel of sorts. I duck to avoid overhanging branches that scrape against the glass partition, and a moment later, we slip through the channel, emerging into a small cove.
“Very few people ever come here,” Parker says. “This is the only boat that can get through that channel.”
When we reach the center of the cove, he presses the button to release the anchor and cuts the engine.
“Now,” he says, “I believe the rule was, whoever made it to the dock first gets to call the shots, yes?”
“Hey, you said it didn’t matter!”
He shrugs, his jaw set with determination, his eyes gleaming. “What can I say, I play dirty.”
“No fair!” I protest, hands on my hips.
In one move, he steps forward and lifts me up, one hand under my back, the other under my knees. I throw my arms around his neck and clutch him tightly.
“You better not be about to throw me in the water, Parker!”
“Oh, I’m going to get you wet all right,” he growls, carrying me into the small cabin under the deck.
Once we’re out of the rain, Parker strips both our damp clothes off and kisses me from head to toe, taking his time. Even though it’s late and the sound of the rain beating against the boat is soothing, I’m far too wound up to feel sleepy.
He rolls over on his back and pulls me to him, lifting me onto his lap, where his hard, swollen erection awaits. Instinctively, I stiffen, squeezing my thighs together to keep myself upright, and put my hands out, pushing against his chest.
“We can’t,” I say, because it’s what is required of me, but my words don’t match anything… not the thoughts in my head, not the reaction my body has to his touch, not the heat between my legs.
My ability to resist him is already so weak, and every time we’re together, it’s slipping away more and more. I don’t know how much longer I can hold out, but it’s not up to me. There’s too much riding on my virginity to give into a moment of temptation. But oh, it would feel so good to just give in…
“It’s okay,” Parker reassures me, deep sincerity in his voice. “That’s not what I have in mind.”
Dammit, Parker. Why do you have to be such a gentleman with me? Just take me, already! I’d love nothing more than to have him pull my hips down, push me onto his beautiful cock, and fuck me like there’s no tomorrow. The devil on my shoulder, that live-like-there’s-no-tomorrow part of me, really wants him to just go for it. I know all my resistance would melt away the second he slid into me.
But he doesn’t. Instead, he lowers me onto his thighs, his erection pointing up between my legs, tickling against the lower part of my stomach.
“Damn, woman. Now that is a heavenly sight.”
“Oh?” I wrap my fingers around his cock and stroke him, gliding my hands up and down his long, firm shaft. I love his cock, so thick and hot in my hands.
He moans, his fingers pressing into the soft flesh of my hips. He grasps my hips and pulls me forward, his cock sliding under me slowly, rubbing against my slippery wetness. Then he pushes my hips back and repeats it.
I get the hang of what we’re doing and begin thrusting my hips in rhythm with the movement of his hands on my hips. His shaft is hot and firm underneath me, and it feels so good gliding against my clit.
“If I can’t be inside of you, this is the next best thing.” He says, watching my face intensely.
“It’s good,” I whisper, feeling drunk on pleasure. “So good.” Moan after moan escapes me, and my breath quickens as we both pick up the pace.
He moves his hands to my ass, gripping me tightly as he lets out a long groan. “Fuck, yes,” he says, his voice deep and husky with passion, “rub your pretty pussy on my cock.”
I blush at his dirty talk, but the words send a pulse of heat right to the center of my pelvis. No toy I’ve ever tried feels as wonderful as his thickness between my thighs. Spreading my hands on his chest, I steady myself and tilt my hips forward, grinding my swollen clit against him even harder. I want to climb onto him and ride him so bad, I’m practically vibrating.
His hands move to my chest, squeezing and cupping my breasts, his fingers playing with my nipples. My breathing is ragged, and a tremble runs through me as an orgasm draws near.
Parker doesn’t miss a thing. He pulls me to his chest and whispers in my ear. “Come for me, baby.”
His hands return to my ass, and he begins thrusting his pelvis, bending his legs for leverage, as if he were really fucking me, the rhythm steady and powerful.
“Yes, yes !” My cry fills the small space, and his pace quickens. I wrap my arms around his neck and surrender to his movements as he uses his strong body and hard, hot cock to bring me to climax.
The rain has finally stopped, and the clouds have moved out, revealing a dark sky full of glittery stars. Parker had unfolded a dry tarp on the deck of the boat, and we’re lying on it, wrapped in a blanket, looking up at the heavens.
The air is cool from the rain, and a light breeze is drifting over us, but Parker’s hot body is snuggled up next to mine under the blanket. It could be snowing buckets on us right now, and I wouldn’t care.
Neither of us has said anything in a long while. The silence is comfortable, but the quiet night air is filled with a million things I want to say, but don’t dare.
I know Parker’s not the kind of guy who does romantic feelings — not the silly, sentimental kind, not the deep, forever and ever kind, and not the complicated, messy, desperate kinds. So, he definitely doesn’t want to hear about all these sticky, messy, desperate feelings I’ve been having. And I’m not supposed to be having them in the first place, so it’s best just to keep my mouth shut and not ruin the fun we’re having together.
“We should head back soon,” I whisper.
“We should,” he agrees, but he doesn’t move.
I tilt my head up to look at him. “A while longer?”
He pulls me closer and kisses my forehead. “A while longer.”
Chapter Seventeen
“Your Highness?”
I turn to my right and see an attractive, tall, blonde woman. I recognize her instantly, and my heart sinks. Dammit. Renetti Casmond, the Duchess of Havenwood. We have a history I’d rather not be reminded of, especially not now, with Seraphina in the same room.
It’s early evening, and everyone has once again gathered in the ballroom for dancing and drinks after dinner. I’ve had several out of town engagements to attend and haven’t had more than a few minutes alone with Sera since our boating adventures a few days ago, but I’m looking forward to seeing her later tonight, once the festival goers have departed and the overnight guests have retired to their own rooms.
Spencer was here briefly, but has long since departed to the study and its supply of imported liquor. He’s spent most of his time there since arriving at the palace, when he’s not off with his new-found circle of questionable friends. I don’t know what brand of trouble he’s cooking up these days, but the changes I see in him make me uneasy.
“Hello, Lady Casmond.” I summon all the manners I can and give her a half smile, which is quite generous considering the role she’s played in feeding gossip to the press about me.
“I’ve been wondering where you’ve been hiding. I’ve rarely spotted you at the festival activities.”
I nod, a smile still plastered on my face, trying to be polite. “I’ve been quite busy.”
She steps closer — too close for my liking — and touches me on the shoulder. “You know, we should arrange a time to catch up. It’s been a while since we’ve… chatted , hasn’t it? Perhaps this evening, after the dance?”
“I don’t think so.”
I know she’s hunting for something, anything juicy. She’d hit paydirt if she found out about Sera, and I won’t let that happen. I don’t need an ounce of press coverage right now, and I definitely won’t have Seraphina’s quiet life pulled into the harsh glare of the media’s spotlight because of my past behavior.
“Oh?” She runs her finger down my arm. “Then maybe tomorrow night?”
“My schedule is very full these days, Renetti.” I grit my teeth, struggling to resist the urge to knock her hand away, but that would cause a scene, and the last thing I want is to draw attention to this unwelcome conversation.
She makes an exaggerated pout, her blonde hair falling across her face as she dips her head and sticks out her lips a mile. “Well, then maybe I should just sit down here and join you right now.”
“That’s not necessary,” I say. I look away, hoping she’ll get the hint and leave. I scan the dance floor for Seraphina. Last I saw her, she was near the back, talking to several women.
The Duchess is still hovering next to me stubbornly when I see a familiar figure at a table across the room. Gigi! Known as Mrs. Abigail Amesbury to everyone else, I’ve called her Gigi since I was a toddler, back when she was first hired as my nanny and I couldn’t wrap my little tongue around her first name properly, so Abigail came out as Gigi, and it stuck. I haven’t seen her since early summer, at the Rose Gala.
I turn back to Renetti. “Excuse me, Lady Casmond, I see someone I need to speak with.”
Instead of stepping aside to let me up, she leans down to me and bats her eyelashes. “But I’m sure I can convince you to make some time for me later… maybe I should jog your memory?”
When she reaches a hand toward my lap, I stand up hastily, nearly knocking my chair over.
She recoils in surprise and blinks. “Your Highness?”
Without replying, I leave her standing by my table in shock at my abrupt departure. A year ago, I might have indulged her, as I was known to do from time to time. She’s not a bad looking woman, and I wasn’t one to turn down an offer back then. But now my interest is less than zero, and I don’t want her anywhere near me.
I circle around the edge of the ballroom and duck into an unoccupied alcove. I pull out my phone and call Pierre, my chief of security.
“Yes, your highness?”
“The Duchess of Havenwood — can you have someone keep an eye on her? She’s snooping for a story, making rounds in the ballroom. Make sure she doesn’t get anywhere near Lady Strathmore.”
“Yes, of course, sir. I’ll see to it right away.”
“Thank you, Pierre.”
I return my phone to my breast pocket and continue to the other side of the dance floor. When I approach Mrs. Amesbury’s table, I see her struggling with the silver tongs for a bowl of sugar cubes.
I take a few steps forward and scoop the sugar bowl off the table. “May I help?”
A smile spreads across her face when she looks up. “Parker!” she pushes her chair back and reaches her arms out. I dive in for a deep hug. I don’t care how improper it might be — I will always give my Gigi the biggest hug I can muster, I don’t care who’s watching.
She pats my cheek fondly when I release her from my bear hug. “How are you, dear? You look more handsome every time I see you!”
I take her hand gently and hold it warmly between mine. “You’re full of shit,” I whisper with a twinkle in my eye, “but you know I love you for it.”
She laughs and squeezes my hands. “I’ve missed you so.” Her laughter envelops me with warmth, a blanket of happiness from the simple and carefree days of childhood.
My parents are kind and gracious people, but Mrs. Amesbury was the one I ran to for comfort as a small child, and the one I turned to for sage advice as a teenager. She’s the one who read me bedtime stories and put me in my place when I misbehaved as I grew older and more mischievous with each passing day.
I stretch an arm to the dance floor. “Will you do me the honors of a dance?”
“Oh my, I haven’t danced in ages!”
“Come, you’ll dance circles around me, I know it.”
We make our way to the center of the ballroom and assume a formal stance. I gently lead her across the intricate geometric patterns of the nineteenth century floor in time with the music.
“How is Henry?” I ask.
Her eyes cloud over a bit, and she dips her chin to the floor. My heart freezes inside my chest. Surely, her husband is still in remission. If the staff kept any such news from me and I missed being there for Mrs. Amesbury, I will reign hellfire upon their heads.
“He’s hanging in there,” she says after a moment. Her tone is full of determination, but her eyes are watery.
I twirl her slowly to the right and bring her back toward me. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do? Get him into an experimental trial or arrange for treatment at a specialty center? You know that I will move heaven and earth to make it happen.”
She smiles tenderly, but I see the deep pain she’s trying to hide from me. “I know you would, my dear. But it’s not for you to worry about.”
“But I—”
“No, Parker,” she says firmly. She straightens her posture and looks me squarely in the eye, her I-mean-business look that I received many times growing up. “That’s the end of that conversation. Let’s enjoy our dance and chat about pleasant things, shall we?”
“Of course, anything you want, Gigi.” I give her a soft kiss on her wrinkled forehead and lean my cheek against her brow as we step lightly to the music, wishing I could trade all my power and riches for the ability to ensure her remaining days would be filled with nothing but joy.
“I noticed you have your eye on someone,” she says.
I pull back in surprise. “What?”
“Well, don’t act shocked about it. You weren’t being too sly about it, my dear. But I can’t say I blame you — she just lights up the room, doesn’t she?” Mrs. Amesbury looks over her left shoulder, and I follow her gaze, to Seraphina dancing with her father a dozen or so yards away.
“She does,” I say quietly.
That deep gold and amber dress she’s wearing is beautiful, but it doesn’t compare to the firelight glow of her skin when she’s naked in my chambers. And that smile, that laugh, it makes me want to be over there with her right now, her arm on mine. But I have to steal my time with her. A late night tryst in my room, a quick escapade in the library — they’re all I have, and I even those moments aren’t rightfully mine.
“Now that’s something new,” Mrs. Amesbury interrupts my reverie. “I’ve never seen that look on you, Parker. I’m quite delighted by it.”
I turn back to face her, and we spin in a wide circle in time with the music. “What look? What are you talking about?”
“Love. The absolutely gobsmacked, head-over-heels variety.”
“Perhaps it’s time to have your vision checked, because that is most certainly not the look on my face.”
“Hmmph,” she chides. “You’ve never been able to lie to me, Parker. But perhaps you haven’t admitted this to yourself yet?”
“There’s positively nothing to admit,” I swear. “She’s very attractive, yes. I can certainly admire her beauty,” I say, then lower my voice before continuing, “and perhaps want a bit of fun, yes, but it doesn’t mean anything more.”
She raises her eyebrows. “If you say so, dear,” she says, not sounding at all convinced.
“Come now!” It comes out rather loud, and I glance around, but no one seems to have paid note. I lower my voice. “How on earth could one possibly be in love with someone after only a few weeks?”
She purses her lips and looks at me scoldingly. “Parker, really. You are a man-child some days.”
“Not true,” I insist, squaring my shoulders. “I’ve had more than my fair share of female companions.”
“I’m quite aware, dear,” she says dryly. “But your… frivolities had nothing to do with love.”
I sigh. She is so impossibly difficult to argue with. “Well, I haven’t been partaking in those kinds of frivolities for quite some time. I’ve been on my best behavior.”
She gives me a smile, the kind that says I’m a complete idiot. “So I’ve heard. But that doesn’t make you any less clueless about love, dear.”
I open my mouth to argue, but no words come out. She’s right.
“You better stop standing on the sidelines just staring at her and make your move soon,” Mrs. Amesbury says. “I’m to understand this is her courting period, and she’ll be snapped up faster than a buttered bobsled barreling down a cliff in the Alps.”
I laugh. “Gigi, you really must come visit more. I miss your analogies — they were the highlight of my day.”
“Don’t change the subject, Parker.”
I’d forgotten how persistent Mrs. Amesbury is when she feels like she’s onto something — but I’m equally as stubborn and not about to back down.
“Even if you’re right, which you aren’t, I’m not an approved suitor and for good reason. Like you said, you’ve seen the headlines. Prince Scandal. The Notorious Royal. She’s too smart to tie herself to the likes of me.”
She looks over at Seraphina for a long moment, and we both watch her exit off the dance floor gracefully. “Well, you’ll never know unless you try. She’d be good for you, Parker.”
“And I’d be terrible for her. Trust me.”
She purses her lips again but refrains from further comment.
As we continue our dance, my eyes drift across the room, looking for Sera out of habit. I notice her at the arched doorway, leaving the ballroom with her attendant, Emily. Immediately, my curiosity takes over. I wonder if she’ll be alone in her room? Perhaps I can slip away from the dance soon and join her.
When the song ends, Mrs. Amesbury insists that it’s time for her to go home, and I walk her out of the ballroom and down the wide, sweeping hallway running the length of the second story. After another hug and assurances that she will stay in touch, we part ways.
When she’s a few feet away, she turns back for a moment, tilting her head toward me, her expression kind but serious. “Don’t wait too long to decide I’m right, dear.” She gives me a compassionate smile and then turns to the grand staircase.
I watch as she makes her way down the steps, a bittersweet tug of longing lodged in my throat. Longing for the simpler days of my childhood, before my love life was front-page news, before I behaved like a royal screw-up, before the never-ending demands of the crown were laid at my feet.
So much is changing, so much is out of my control.
Eager to shake off the feeling and wrap myself in Seraphina’s cheerful company and warm embrace, I turn right and head for the back stairs that lead up to her floor.
Gigi’s words echo through my mind, and the reality of how little time I have left with Sera makes my stomach clench. I rush up the steps, two at a time, desperate to claim every moment I can with her.
Chapter Eighteen
Emily taps me on the shoulder. “Seraphina, we’ve got company.”
We’re standing in the corner of the ballroom, and I’m bent over at a small table, trying to stir some sugar into my cup of hot tea without splashing it all over my dress. I look up to see a palace staff member approaching.
“Good evening, Lady Strathmore,” he says when he reaches us.
I straighten up and nod my head. “Good evening.”
“Sir Eldridge and Mr. Kingston request a moment of your time.”
I sigh. “What for, did they say?”
He shakes his head. “I’m afraid not.”
“Where?”
“In the reading room. I’ll take you there.”
“No, that won’t be necessary. I remember where it is.”
“Very well, enjoy the rest of your evening.” He bows and retreats just as quickly as he arrived.
“Well, hell ,” I hiss to Emily.
She gives me a wary look. “What do you think they want?”
I throw my hands up. “Who knows. Maybe the Historical Council discovered another letter from that old bastard, and Sir Eldridge just can’t wait until morning to present a two-hour speech about it.”
She purses her lips. “That sounds about right. Would you like me to go?”
I glance at my tea cup, wishing I had something strong to spike it with so I could gulp it down quickly, an antidote to survive one of Sir Eldridge’s never-ending speeches. “No, no. I know you’re tired — go have some rest.”
Emily squinches her mouth sideways. “Thanks. I am ready for some peace and quiet, so I’ll go back to the suite if you don’t mind.”
“Of course not. I’ll be there as soon as I’m done with this nonsense.”
“Oh?” She looks at me in surprise. “No hot date with Parker tonight?”
I smile and lean close to Emily. “He said he would come by when he’s done with his festival duties for the evening.”
“Ah, good,” she says, grinning happily. “I’ll keep the door to my side of the suite shut tight then. And wear the earplugs. You two get rather frisky, don’t you?” she whispers.
“What!” My cheeks flush instantly. I’m mortified at the idea that anyone has overheard us, and doubly embarrassed that we might have interrupted Emily’s sleep.
Emily bursts into laughter at my horrified expression. “It’s okay, Sera! I wish I had someone worth making a racket with.”
I jab an elbow into her side. “You’re terrible! Maybe I’ll just smother you with a pillow when I get to the room, and then you won’t have to worry about any noise, hmm?”
She wipes tears away from her eyes, still giggling. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be laughing, but that face! Oh my God, you are so modest sometimes, it just kills me.”
I fight back a laugh and give her a deadpan look. “I’m leaving now. And when I’m done with this meeting, I’m going to find a very immodestly large, heavy pillow.”
I clear my throat. “Gentleman.”
Sir Eldridge and Mr. Kingston glance up from their conversation. They’ve had their heads bowed together whispering furiously for several minutes.
“Can we keep this brief? I have company waiting for me.”
I’m seated in a wingback chair in the small library on the second floor, which houses an impressive collection of first editions and rare books dating back to the sixteenth century. There’s a small fireplace to my right and a marble coffee table between myself and the advisors. After greeting me they took their seats opposite me and resumed a private conversation amongst themselves, the length of which is now boarding on downright rude.
“Yes, of course, sorry my Lady,” Mr. Kingston says, settling back into his chair, and Sir Eldridge does the same.
“What is this about?” I ask.
Mr. Kingston glances at Sir Eldridge, and an unspoken exchange takes place. The senior advisor nods agreeably and turns to look at me as Mr. Kingston leans forward, elbows on his knees.
“I’m just going to lay this out straight, if you don’t mind, Lady Strathmore,” Mr. Kingston says.
“Please do,” I implore. “Just cut to the chase and tell me what needs said so we can all get on with our evening.”
“As you wish.” He clasps his hands together loudly. “The situation is as such — we have recently discovered two important pieces of information, and we’d like to share our thoughts about these things with you.”
“Certainly,” I nod. “Please proceed.”
“Now, it would behoove us to warn you that the first matter is of a personal nature, so I hope you’ll permit us to speak frankly, since there’s no delicate way to approach this.”
My stomach clenches a bit, but I grip the armrests of the chair and straighten my back. “Okay. Go on.”
“It’s come to our attention that you are involved with His Royal Highness, Prince Parker.”
My mouth drops open, and my heart freezes in my chest.
Sir Eldridge holds up a hand. “It’s okay, my Lady.”
The hell it is. I stare at the two advisors in panic.
“What’s discussed here will go no further than this room,” the senior advisor says. “We have not shared this bit of information with your parents, and we have no intention to.”
I swallow hard and take a deep breath, struggling to regain my composure. “What does Prince Parker have to do with anything? And how would it be any of your business, even if it were true?”
They exchange a glance again, and I take another deep breath to hold back the barrage of profanity I’d like to yell right now. What the hell are you looking at each other for? Just say it, dammit!
Mr. Kingston speaks. “It’s an unfortunate situation, and normally we would have no cause whatsoever to get involved with your, um, romantic, uh, activities , but we are in the middle of quite an unusual situation here, aren’t we? We are sworn to look out for the best interests of your family and the estate as a whole. Any involvement with His Grace puts things in jeopardy, as you can surely understand.”
I give them both a long stare. “How so?”
They shift uncomfortably and glance at one another again. An almost imperceptible nod of agreement passes between them.
“The chastity clause of the agreement, my Lady,” Sir Eldridge says, turning back to me. “You cannot afford to tempt fate, as it were. It would be a terribly unfortunate turn of events to arrive at your wedding day, with all of this sordid mess nearly behind you, only to be found in breach of the agreement because you are no longer a maiden, so to speak.”
I snort loudly, not caring if it’s impolite and unladylike of me. They think my worries will be over once I’m married off? It might bring security and stability to my family, but my troubles will just be beginning. I’m the one who will have to live with a man I don’t love and watch my dreams evaporate before my eyes.
“I am well aware that I must remain a virgin,” I say slowly and as firmly as I can muster without yelling. “I am not a helpless dimwit with no self-control.”
“Of course, of course,” Sir Eldridge says, lowering his voice in an obvious attempt to be soothing, but it just comes off as patronizing to my ears. “But be that as it may, there is another concern.”
“Which is?” I’m on the verge of standing up and walking out of this ridiculous meeting.
“Prince Parker is, well, he’s a very powerful man with nearly unlimited wealth, and yes, he’s from an illustrious family,” Sir Eldridge says. “But, regrettably, he has a rather notorious wild streak. And he’s had a lot of, um, bad press surrounding him.
“He’s not to be trusted, unfortunately, my Lady,” Mr. Kingston adds.
“Again, I am not a naïve imbecile.” The words leave me like steel darts aimed at their heads. “I know of his reputation. I’ve read the papers, I’ve heard the stories. How is any of it relevant to the agreement?”
“If anyone else discovers this tryst is taking place between the two of you, it will throw quite a bad light on you, my Lady, however unfair that might be. And it’s likely to cause some, if not all, the suitors to withdraw from consideration.”
I sigh. “Really? This is what you brought me here for? To admonish me for having the first bit of fun I’ve had in years?”
“That wasn’t our intention. We simply—”
“Well, that’s what’s happened, isn’t it?” I lean forward, at the end of my patience. “Gentleman, I’m a grown woman. If I’m capable enough to decide to take on the challenge of meeting this agreement’s demands — which will upend my entire life, I might add — then I am also most certainly capable of deciding how I spend my free time and who I spend it with.”
Fury is rising in my chest. How dare they scold me!
“And I’m definitely entitled to enjoy myself,” I continue, the indignation pouring out me like hot steam, “while I still can, in whichever ways I deem appropriate, regardless of whether either of you or anyone else approves of my choice of company.”
The advisors grow silent and look at me for a long moment, then at each other. Sir Eldridge sighs heavily and gestures at the coffee table. Mr. Kingston picks up a folder from the marble table and stands up, reaching it out to me.
I stare at him coolly as I take the folder.
“We were hoping not to have to show you this,” Sir Eldridge says, his voice distressed. “But, if you are not planning to dissolve your relationship with the Prince, then you need to know this.”
My hands are trembling as I open the folder, partly from anger and partly from the apprehensive expressions of the advisors, as if they’ve handed me a live rattlesnake. Inside the folder is a small stack of photographs. The top picture is of Parker and a woman I don’t recognize, sitting on an elegant couch together, his hand on her leg, her arm wrapped around his. Her wavy red hair is spilling across his shoulder, and they’re laughing at something off camera.
“What is this?” I look up at the advisors.
Mr. Kingston clears his throat and shifts awkwardly in his chair, crossing and then uncrossing his legs. “Pictures of the Prince and the company he’s been keeping lately, my Lady,” he finally says.
I slide the top picture off the pile and look at the next one. Parker and a pretty blonde woman, kissing. The palace stables are visible in the background.
I shake my head. “Current company? No, you’re wrong. These must be old pictures.”
“I’m so sorry, my Lady,” Sir Eldridge says, looking at me with sorrow, “but they are not. When we learned of your interest in His Grace, Mr. Kingston had one of the investigators follow him, from a distance and very discreetly, of course. We didn’t want to alert his security staff to our surveillance.”
I pull a third picture out of the stack. Parker and the same blonde woman, this time in front of a window. I recognize the fancy arch of the window, and the unusual angle of the stone façade — the West Wing of the palace, occupied almost entirely by the Prince’s private residence. The woman is half undressed, and Parkers hands are on her waist. I notice a small, bright red splash of color in the very corner of the photograph, something on the outer wall of the palace.
“This can’t be,” I say, but my stomach is twisting into knots, and my heart is slowly sinking into a dark abyss.
“Again, we’re so sorry to have to share this with you, but it’s our belief that His Highness is simply looking to collect, um… well, to be the first to claim the prize, so to speak.”
“What?” I look up, confused.
“There are certain men who, um, collect that sort of thing. They like to be the first through the gate, if you see what I mean.”
“It’s — it’s not like that,” I stutter, my mind running through all the times I’ve silently prayed for him to take me. He’s had ample opportunity to push me into something, but he hasn’t.
“Perhaps not yet . He might be trying to charm you, to coax you into letting him have his way with you. But of course, that would spoil everything you’ve worked towards so far with this situation.”
I don’t even know what to say to that, so I just lower my eyes back to the folder. I skim through the remaining pictures. I don’t want to believe it. But the evidence is undeniable. There he is in living color, caught on camera with no less than four different women, looking just like the Parker waiting for me upstairs — short, tousled hairstyle, fresh, clean-shaven face. Not the Parker from the photos and videos that have been splashed all over the news, with his formerly chin-length wavy locks and the shadow of three-day stubble across his face.
I rifle through the pictures again until I find the one with the stables. I stare at the background. Yellow, red, and orange — autumn leaves are on the ground in the photo. Just like they are outside, right now. I shuffle through the images until I find the one of his window, obviously taken with a telephoto lens from a far distance. That red splash of color — it’s one of the Grand Harvest Festival flags adorning the exterior of the palace, flapping gently in the breeze outside as I sit here.
My whole body shudders with pain, and I snap the folder shut as tears well in my eyes. I toss it on the marble table with revulsion.
“Is that all? Are we finished here?” I ask quietly, blinking quickly to overcome the sting of tears biting at my eyes.
“There is one more matter.”
“Talk fast, please.” I rest my forehead in my hands and avoid their gaze. I am such an idiot. I am just as naïve as they think I am. I can’t believe I let myself get swept away with Parker. And somehow convinced myself I was special, that I was different than all the women before me. That he’d really turned over a new leaf. The thoughts are running through my head so fast, so painfully loud and angry, that I miss what Sir Eldridge says. I only catch Finley’s name.
I look up at them, my eyes surely red and watery, my nose puffy from sniffling, but I no longer care. They know who I am. They know me better than I know myself. Why hide it? They’ve known for weeks I’m a gullible idiot, fueled by my reckless hormones and silly, juvenile romantic notions.
“What did you say?” I ask sluggishly, a bone-weary tiredness settling across me. I’m tired of it all — of them, of this whole situation, of this palace, of everything.
The advisors look at each other again, perhaps out of horror at me dissolving into a mess before their eyes, ugly crying right here in the middle of this library, or perhaps at surprise over my reaction to this news, heartbreak over a man who goes through women like children go through a bag of candy.
“Oh, for God’s sake — stop looking at each other and just tell me!” I shout, all my manners gone, all my patience evaporated.
I just want to get out of this room, as soon as possible. It’s getting smaller and more cramped the longer I sit here, the walls closing in, just squeezing the shame and embarrassment and heartache out of every pore in my body.
Sir Eldridge clears his throat. “I said, Mr. Crofts with the Historical Council has finally identified the current representative of Master Goutley’s agreement, just this evening in fact. It’s Finley Prescott.”
My mouth falls open. “What?”
“Mr. Prescott. You know who we’re speaking of, right? The gentleman on your list of suitors?”
I nod, blinking slowly, feeling as if I’ve stepped into a Salvador Dali painting and time is unwinding on itself, reality slanting so far sideways I can barely keep myself upright. “Yes.”
“It’s quite a coincidence, isn’t it?” Mr. Kingston says, scooting to the edge of his seat. “I mean, what a fortunate turn of events.”
I stare blankly at the advisors. Mr. Kingston’s words are jumbling together in my head. “I’m sorry, what does that mean?”
“Well, it makes things just very simple, doesn’t it?” he says, grinning broadly. “Finley Prescott is one of your suitors, and as it turns out, he’s also the heir to this agreement. This is a lovely solution to your situation.”
I breathe shallowly, a dullness setting in. Their voices are strangely muted and the colors of the room, even the flames dancing in the fireplace, are less vivid than I remember when I first came in.
I look at Mr. Kingston for a long while. His face is distorted, and his grin looks like a cartoon drawing someone slapped over his real mouth. I realize I missed what he said. “What is the solution?”
“This makes your choice easy. You won’t need to continue the courtship period any longer. You can announce your engagement, and we can get straight on with the wedding plans.”
“It does make the most sense, my Lady,” Sir Eldridge adds. “What Mr. Kingston hasn’t mentioned is the downside of this news.”
“Which is?” I’m not sure if they’re being confusingly vague or if my brain has simply stopped working under the weight of despair I’m feeling, but very little is making sense to me right now.
“The possible complications it could cause were you to choose otherwise, my Lady,” the senior advisor explains. “Such as how disagreeable Finley might become if he’s rejected as a suitor.”
“Oh.”
“I’m not saying he would, but there’s always the chance he could somehow delay verification that you’ve upheld the agreement, or he could challenge it in the court just to drag things out. So, the most sensible things, from all angles, is to simply choose Mr. Prescott.”
“I see,” I say flatly.
Sir Eldridge’s excitement seems to be rising. “The upside of this arrangement would not matter if your children default on the contract.”
A silent shudder runs through me. My children. My children with Finley Prescott . Acid turns in my stomach.
“Since if there is a default, you see,” he continues, “everything — the estate, the title, any assets — it would stay in the family, it would just technically belong to your husband instead of yourself.”
“And my parents and Spencer?” I ask coldly.
Sir Eldridge’s smile falters. “Well, my Lady, we’ve made inquiries, and—”
A jolt runs through me. “You’ve what?”
“—and Mr. Prescott would be quite happy to take the Strathmore name. He’ll be good as a second son. Especially if Spencer never settles down.”
The fight goes out of me. I lay my forehead in the palm of one hand. Of course, he would take my family name. Insta-nobility — and everything that goes with it.
“Have you enjoyed getting to know him so far?” Mr. Kingston asks cautiously.
I shrug quietly. I don’t know how I feel about anything right now. And given how overly trusting I’ve been of Parker, I clearly shouldn’t trust my judgment, anyway.
He tries a different approach. “Are there any other suitors that you like better?”
I shake my head with a deflated sigh. I don’t like any of them, not really. Parker stole my heart that very first night, when he swept me into his arms on the dance floor and then surprised me with his talents on the balcony. Truth be told, he’s had my heart since I was that gangly teenager with frizzy hair and a stick figure for a body. And he’s the reason I dated so infrequently in college — I inevitably compared every man I met to Parker, and found them all lacking.
“Then that’s settled,” Mr. Kingston says with an enthusiastic nod. “Finley is an excellent choice. Don’t you agree?”
I look down and stare at a spot on the rug, a piece of white fuzz dotting the otherwise impeccably clean oriental pattern. “Sure.”
“You should tell Mr. Prescott as soon as possible, then. We can arrange for a meeting this evening, if you’d like.” Sir Eldridge suggests.
“Okay.” I don’t recognize my own voice.
“And then you should announce the engagement later this week,” he continues, “to give as much time as possible to get the wedding planned — it should be fitting to your station, you see — and then get the paperwork and all the affairs in order.”
“Okay.”
Concern finally shines through in Sir Eldridge’s further promptings. “I know it comes as a bit of a shock, this news, but it’s a very good turn of events. The best outcome one could hope for, really.”
“You’ll have to pardon my lack of excitement. I’m not feeling very well right now.”
“Oh, of course,” Sir Eldridge says. He peers at me. “Do you need us to summon anyone? Or get you anything?”
“No. I just need to lie down. Please excuse me.”
I wobble a bit as I stand up before finding my bearings. I leave as quickly as I can without waiting for their reply. I make it out to the hallway without collapsing, but my knees keep threatening to buckle, and my whole body feels like it weighs several tons, and the air is thick, like I’m swimming through water.
I push myself to keep going. I just need to make it to my room. Then I can crawl under the covers and die. I don’t know what will kill me first — my broken heart, bleeding openly in my chest over the evidence against Parker, the depressing news that I’m going to spend the rest of my life with Finley, or the fact that my confidence is completely shattered, as if an earthquake has ripped through me.
Either way, I know I’m done for.
Chapter Nineteen
When I reach the top of the steps, Stephen, the royal guard accompanying me, checks around the corner and radios to another security staff member positioned at the other end of the North Wing. “All clear, sir.”
“Thank you, Stephen, that will be all,” I say and proceed to Sera’s suite as he disappears back down the stairs.
Sera’s suite is the first door, set back at an angle due to the Victorian design of the North Wing, which was added to the palace about 140 years ago, when the style was reaching its height of popularity across the world.
I knock quietly and bounce on the balls of my feet as I wait. Three days I’ve been without Sera, except for quick exchanges and brief, stolen kisses between my trips. It hasn’t been the same, sleeping alone in my bed without her warmth and softness for company. I need her in my arms tonight. I need to rock her body with pleasure and hear her sweet voice cry out in ecstasy, and then watch her fall asleep beside me, so beautiful.
The door opens a crack, and someone peeks out — Emily? — and then closes again quickly. A moment later, the door swings open and Spencer steps out, with Emily right behind him, who pulls the door shut behind her.
I look warily at Spencer, wondering how to play this, how to explain why I’m at his little sister’s door. Should I just invent a lie? Say I was looking for him?
Spencer crosses his arms. “You shouldn’t be here, Parker.”
“I, uh—”
“Save it. I know what’s been going on. I just heard the whole god-awful story. But it’s over.”
I cock my head. I hadn’t planned to go to lock horns with Spencer over this, and I don’t know how he found out, but the moment is here, and I’m not backing down. “I don’t think that’s your call to make.”
He nods, arms still crossed. “You’re right, it’s not. It’s hers,” he says, jerking a thumb toward the door. “And she made it.”
I look at Emily, who is staring at me with a stony expression. “What’s going on here?”
She looks away, her face drawn tight. “He’s right, Your Highness. Sera said she doesn’t want to see you anymore.”
“Bullshit. I don’t know what you two are trying to pull, but if Seraphina doesn’t want to see me, she can tell me herself.” I move toward the door, but Emily steps in front of me, stretching her arm across the doorway.
“Don’t,” she pleads. “You’ve done enough. Leave her be.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
She gives me an icy stare. “You know exactly what it means.”
“No, I really don’t.”
Spencer puts his hand on my shoulder. “You need to go.”
I knock his hand off me. “I’m not going anywhere without talking to Seraphina.”
“What part of this don’t you understand? Look, have your fun, okay? Just not with my goddamn sister.”
“It’s not like that.”
“Do you think I’m fucking stupid? What, did you sprout feelings all of a sudden? I don’t fucking buy it. I know you. I know how you operate, because I do the same damn thing — but I don’t fuck with your family, Parker.”
“I’m not playing games with her, I swear.”
Spencer rubs his face and sighs. When he looks back at me, his eyes are full of fury. “Don’t you get it? She’s getting married, Parker. Married . So, whatever this is, whether you started it, or she did, it was a game — a stupid, reckless game. And now, Seraphina’s a fucking mess over it, thanks to you.”
“What? What did I do?”
Spencer laughs bitterly. “You were just being you, Parker. That’s all. I just never thought you’d stoop this low, though, to go after my own sister.”
“I need to talk to Sera,” I insist, my hands clenching into fists. “I don’t know what the fuck happened, but if I can just talk to her, I’m sure it can be sorted out.”
Emily shakes her head firmly. “No. I’m sorry, Your Grace, but she gave me explicit instructions to not let you in.”
“I don’t believe that.” I cross my arms and plant my feet. I’m not going anywhere until Sera tells me herself.
“Your Highness, look at me, please,” Emily implores, her voice strained.
I shift my gaze to her. She looks utterly distraught, and a sinking feeling creeps over me.
She takes a deep breath, exhaling dejectedly. “I’m telling you the truth. And I need you to hear this, for her sake, okay? Sera doesn’t want to see you — not now, not tomorrow, not ever.”
I stagger backward, my heart beating erratically in my chest. The look in Emily’s eyes — the deep well of anger and sadness, it’s genuine. Something has happened to Seraphina, something terrible… and it’s somehow ruined everything.
I lean against the wall, feeling dizzy. “I don’t understand…”
“Please, Sir. If you actually care about her at all, just… just leave her alone. That’s the best thing you can do for her.”
“Come on,” Spencer says. “Let’s go.”
He clears his throat, but I don’t move. Instead, I stare at Sera’s door, willing her to open it, to pop out and yell, “Gotcha!”
I say a silent prayer. A plea for this to turn out to be a horrible joke. But the door doesn’t open, and Emily’s sniffling quietly now, sagging against the frame of the door as she looks at me with a mixture of disgust and pity.
“Fine,” I say quietly, resigned. “I’ll go.”
Spencer trails me back around the corner, his eyes trained on me intently as I press the door to the elevator. No point in sneaking about on the stairs anymore. As the elevator lights tick through the numbers to Sera’s floor, I pull my phone out and type a quick message to Pierre:
‘No detail needed the rest of the evening.’
I turn back to look at Spencer. His hard gaze softens a bit as we stare at each other.
“I hate that it came to this, Parker.”
“Me, too.” I lower my eyes to the floor, truly ashamed for perhaps the first time in my life, and this time I’m not even sure what I’ve done, but I know it’s my fault. I’ve wrecked too many things. Karma has finally caught up with me, and hurt Seraphina in the process.
“Can I ask you something, as an old friend? Why Seraphina? Why mess with her, out of all the women falling at your feet? Was it just for bragging rights?” he asks. “Or to piss me off?”
I shake my head. “No.”
The elevator dings, and the doors slide open. I stand still a moment longer, thinking about Spencer’s question.
“Then what? Just tell me the goddamn truth, Parker. You owe me that much.”
“She’s the one,” I say quietly.
“What?”
I step into the elevator. Spencer is still staring. “Are you fucking with me?”
I exhale, the air leaving my body like a deflating balloon. “I didn’t realize it at first, but I know now.”
Spencer steps forward, his head cocked at me suspiciously. I stare back, my expression flat. A heavy weight is plummeting through me, pulling on every muscle in my body like a tide of gravity flooding in.
The doors slide shut, blocking out Spencer’s questioning expression, and the elevator descends, leaving me completely alone with the maddening, raw emotions welling up in my gut.
I’m sitting on a bench under an ancient, sprawling oak tree at the edge of the East Lawn. The palace is mostly dark now and the grounds are quiet. I’ve brought along a bottle of brandy, grabbed it without thinking from the counter in the chef’s kitchen as I stumbled through the rear of the palace, desperate to get out of the building, desperate for fresh air and solitude.
But the crisp fall air hasn’t helped, nor has the brandy. A third of the bottle is gone, and I don’t feel a fucking bit better. I rub the soft petal between my fingers then look at my hand, trying to remember what I’m holding. Right. A honeysuckle blossom from the half dozen bouquets I ordered while I was away. The ones I had imported and brought to my suite for Sera — a special surprise awaiting her tonight, a way of saying how much I’ve missed her company these past few days.
All the vases are smashed against the walls now.
“Licking your wounds, Parker?”
I look up at the sound of a familiar voice calling to me from the distance, an unwelcome intrusion into my quiet retreat. Fucking Finley. Great. I look up at the Heavens with despair and anger. This, too? Kicking me while I’m down?
“Get lost, Finley,” I call back. “Go choke on your own dick.”
Instead of leaving, Finley saunters over to me. “I assume from the look of things over here that you’ve heard the news?”
“And if I haven’t? I assume you’re going to tell me, given that fake, smug-as-shit look you’re trying to impress me with right now,” I spit the words at him and tip the bottle of brandy up for another chug. I don’t even taste its citrusy sweetness now; it might as well be water, but it’s still not numbing the crushing pain in my chest, nor quieting the relentless clamor of thoughts in my head.
“Oh, it’s real.” He sighs, like he’s already bored of talking to me, and pretends to absent-mindedly pluck leaves off a low-hanging branch of the tree I’m sitting under, crushing them between his fingers.
“Spit it out, Finley.”
He smirks at me but doesn’t reply right away, just stands there gloating. He’s really pissing me off now, with this phony swagger of his.
“What do you want, asshole?”
“I’m so glad I get to witness you learning this news,” he says, practically giddy. “Sera’s chosen me.”
“The fuck she has.”
He stuffs his hands in the pockets of his trousers, and the smug grin goes from just annoying to hideously intolerable. “Oh, I assure you, it’s true. I just came from meeting with Seraphina and her parents.”
I jump to my feet, knocking the bottle of brandy to the ground. “You’re a fucking liar. I was just at her suite.”
He laughs, his voice filled with a sickening triumph. “Oh, I know. We heard you out in the hallway, causing a scene. I know it’s crushing your fragile ego right now, Parker. But she’s mine.”
“I won’t believe it until I hear it from her.”
He clicks his tongue and sighs happily. “Well, you won’t have to wait long — we’re announcing it tomorrow before the garden concert.”
I lean my hand against the tree to steady myself. It can’t be. She wouldn’t really go through with this, would she? And Finley? Of all the men clamoring after her, there’s no way she’d pick fucking Finley Prescott.
“Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you two keep sneaking off to cop a feel,” Finley sneers. “But I don’t give a shit about that, because I know she’s mine in all the ways it counts — her hand in marriage, her family estate, her virginity — it’s all mine for the taking.”
“What?”
He looks at me, and then his head tilts to the side, and glee fills his eyes. “You didn’t know about the chastity clause, did you?” He throws his head back with laughter and claps his hands together. “Oh my God, that’s fucking perfect!”
“What the hell are you going on about Finley?”
“All the messing around you’ve been doing? It wasn’t ever going to lead anywhere. That’s why your sorry attempts at seducing her haven’t bothered me a bit. See, we’ve got a little agreement — she’s sworn to remain a virgin until her wedding night. She’s all mine. I’ve made sure of it.”
“Bullshit,” I growl. “There’s no such agreement. That’s not true.”
“Ah, but you know it isn’t, don’t you?” He taps a finger to the side of his head and looks at me with mock pity. “Poor Parker, always two steps behind me.”
“Fuck you, Finley.”
His white teeth flash brightly in a snide grin. “From the look on your face, things are finally starting to click into place. That’s right, she’s been saving that tight cunt all for me.” He cups the front of his pants and tugs. “I’ll let you know how it feels.”
My hands tighten into fists, and the muscles of my legs tense. “Don’t talk about her that way.”
“Our wedding night, it’s gonna be so good. She’ll get her little virgin cunt pounded real nice.” He makes an obscene gesture with his hips and hands, jiggling his groin back and forth in the air. “I have a nice stock of pills to make sure I can ram that pussy wide for hours, Parker, hours . When that loosens up, I can just flip her over.”
“Shut the fuck up, Finley.”
“You can picture it, right? I’m gonna slide balls deep into that bitch and pound her until she can’t remember what your face looks like. She’ll spend the rest of her life on her knees, or maybe with her ass up in the air, pleasing my cock however I want. I’ll own her.”
“The hell you will,” I growl, stepping forward.
I land my fist squarely in Finley’s gut. He lets out a sharp wheeze and doubles over. I don’t hesitate, landing a blow to the back of his neck while thrusting my knee upward, smashing into his face. Then three swift punches to the side of his ribs. I hope I’ve shattered them into dust.
He staggers backward, one hand wrapped around his chest, the other clutching his nose. Blood is dripping through his fingers. “Eat shit, Parker,” he gasps.
“If you lay a single fucking finger on Sera ever again, I’ll make sure you spend the rest of your life regretting it. In fact, don’t even utter her name.”
After a moment he straights up, heaving for breath. His eyes burn with indignation, and he spits out a mouthful of blood.
He points at me, his hand shaking angrily. “Just for that, I’m gonna send you some videos of her gagging on my cock. I’m gonna make your sweet little pet my dirty, filthy whore.”
Fury seeps into every cell of my body like an all-consuming black poison. I want to utterly destroy him.
“Those are some big words, Finley. Let’s see if you can back them up.” I wave my fingers at him, beckoning him over. “Come on, bitch boy. Show me how much of a man you are.”
He lunges forward, both arms swinging at me wildly. His blows land across my shoulders as I duck and spin around out of his clumsy embrace, grabbing his right arm in the process, twisting it painfully. He cries out and swings at me with his other arm, but I block his punch and send my elbow smashing into his windpipe.
Finley gurgles and claws at my neck and my hair, trying to get hold of me. I twist, driving a hard blow deep into the left side of his chest. He coughs and shakes his head, throwing an arm toward me, but I shift out of the way, and he stumbles from the momentum of the missed punch.
He staggers a few feet, and I smash my right fist into his face as hard as I can and drive an uppercut into his jaw with my left. He wobbles backward, arms flailing at me wildly.
Swiveling on the ball of my left foot, I bring my right leg up with blinding speed and deliver a roundhouse kick to the side of his head. His knees buckle, and I’m on top of him instantly, jamming my knee into his groin as I tackle him.
When the royal guards finally pull me off him, my hands are covered in blood, and Finley is unconscious.
Chapter Twenty