The door slammed behind me, leaving Trinity and I alone in an empty sitting room in the palace. Her eyes roamed over the decor, the priceless art, the carefully maintained antiques, her gaze openly appraising and no doubt ticking up the sticker prices in her head.

That baby wasn’t mine. No fucking way.

The only woman I’d been inside of bare was Charlotte, which meant this conception would have to have been immaculate, and Trinity was no Virgin Mary.

“Explain,” I ordered, leaning back against the closed door and crossing my arms over my chest.

“It’s beautiful here,” she said, running her hand along the back of a settee. “Why didn’t you ever bring me here?”

“Probably because you were a vacation fuck who was never supposed to leave that resort.”

Her smile reminded me of a dog baring its teeth.

“Well, none of that matters now, does it?”

“That baby isn’t mine.”

“Are you so very sure?” She leaned over, giving me an eye-full of the curves I’d already seen multiple times.

“I’m certain.”

“But how certain could you possibly be?”

“Enough to tell you to get the fuck out and never come back.”

“But what if I carry the heir?” Her eyes flew wide in mockery.

“You don’t.” My jaw muscle started to tick.

She crossed the room, her hips swaying, and she dropped her jacket, leaving it to fall haphazardly on the floor. The curve of her belly was apparent, only affirming what I already knew. That kid wasn’t mine.

“You can have it all, you know,” she said, coming so close I was drowning in her overbearing perfume. “An heir already on the way, a centerfold Queen, and a fire in your bed every night. I know exactly how you like it, and I can tell you the frigid ice princess you hitched yourself to isn’t going to get you there.”

Frigid. That’s what I’d called Charlotte once, praying it was true, that the fantasies in my head would stop, that my nightmares—picturing her with Xander—would stop. Much to my delight, she was anything but.

“I’m married. Happily. Ecstatically.”

“Annul it.” She said it so simply as if walking away from the only woman I’d ever loved was something I’d ever be interested in.

“No. There’s nothing you could say or do that would ever make me give her up.”

“Even though I’m carrying your baby?” She put her hands on my chest.

Yeah, no.

Gently gripping her wrists, I backed her away and cleared the door so she couldn’t corner me again. The only woman who would ever have her hands on me again was Charlotte.

“I brought you back here so you didn’t cause a scene, but don’t mistake that gesture for interest in you. It was purely to get you away from the photographers, where you had even the slightest chance of hurting my wife any more than you already have.”

“Jameson—”

“Don’t. Don’t even try it. I saw that ultrasound you shoved at me, enough to see the dates on it.”

Her eyes widened, a flush coming over her skin.

“Didn’t think that through, did you? If you’re going to pin a pregnancy on a man, at least make sure the dates match up. According to that ultrasound, you were already six weeks pregnant when we hooked up. So I’m betting you knew. I’m betting you orchestrated that entire week with me in hopes I’d fall for your bullshit.”

Her mouth dropped open, and she shook her head. “No...that’s not what happened.”

“Oh, I beg to differ. Now that I think back on every time you begged me to go bare? Yeah, you figured you could do this. So a tip for the next guy, at least get a half-decently altered pic with good dates.”

“Jameson, please…”

“Oh no, you just caused a PR shit storm in the first week of my marriage. You don’t get to ask me for shit. Ever.” I opened the door, and Oliver stepped through, his eyes locked on Trinity. “Oliver will see you out.”

Without saying another word, I left the room and headed for my next appointment.

For fuck’s sake, how many times would my past come back up to haunt me? Torture Charlotte?

Damian waited for me outside our largest conference room, chatting with Anthony.

“There he is,” Damian said.

“Sorry, had some trash to take care of. Are they all inside?”

“They are,” Damian answered, his eyes trailing back over my shoulder. “But it looks like someone is about to need a few minutes of your time. I’ll head in. You handle...that.”

I turned to see Georgia storming my way.

“Is there something you need to tell me?”

“Sure, Georgia. I just got blamed for a pregnancy that’s not mine. As a matter of fact,” I reached into my suit pocket, “here is the ultrasound she gave me, and you’ll see if you check my resort dates from right before we left for the America tour, there’s zero chance that kid is mine. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“And how often am I going to have to worry about this kind of thing happening?”

I’d been patient. Held my fucking tongue. Acted like the King I was about to become, but I’d had it.

“First off, please don’t forget who you work for. Spoiler alert: it’s me. I don’t answer to you, you answer to me. And second, you don’t have to worry anymore now than you did when I was the spare and not the heir. The only thing that’s changed between then and now is that I’m about to be King. Trust me, had I known this was going to be my life, I might not have been quite as...adventurous with my sexual choices. But that’s my business and not yours because as we’ve already covered, you. Work. For. Me. So handle it.”

She was still stammering when I walked away.

Man, I was becoming an expert on having the last word.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire, I walked into the conference room that currently held the members of Parliament who had changed their party affiliation.

They all stood, and I waved my hands, motioning for them to sit down. Then I stood at the end of the table, Damian seated on my left.

“Look. I’m not going to wine and dine you or try to convince you to change your minds. I don’t have the slightest interest in swaying politics, nor is that my role as your future King. And please don’t doubt that I am your future King. This monarchy has stood for a thousand years, and it will continue to stand. I will move us into a modern era, and it’s not because you decided to take off your masks and finally come at me in the open. It’s not about the death threats sent to my wife, my sisters, my mother—his daughter,” I pointed at Damian. “I’m thankful you changed your party affiliation because at least I know where my enemies are.”

I looked at them each in turn, memorizing their stunned, red faces.

“So thank you for coming out into the open. Thank you for letting me know your true feelings. I look forward to proving you all wrong. Every. Single. One. Of. You.”

The silence was almost as satisfying as hearing the door click when I got the fuck out of there. Last word: officially mine.

* * *

Last words? Easy. First words? Impossible.

I raised my hand to knock on the door but stopped when I realized it was my own bedroom.

Don’t be a chicken.

I walked into my bedroom and felt panic slice through me at the empty bed. It was ten p.m., and I hadn’t seen Charlotte since she walked out of the cafe this morning. Had she packed up and left again?

My gaze swept the room, stopping at the sight of Charlotte curled up on the couch in the living area, a book in her lap. Relief washed over me, my legs wobbly as I walked over, hitting my knees in front of her.

“That baby is not mine.”

She didn’t even look up, simply turned the page in her book.

“Charlie.”

Another page turned, which told me she wasn’t even reading the thing.

“Charlotte Wyndham, look at me.”

Slowly, her eyes met mine. The green was vivid against the heartbreaking red rims, the evidence of far too many tears.

“That baby isn’t mine,” I repeated.

“But you did sleep with her, right?” she asked with a break in her voice.

“Yes. I’ll never lie to you about any of that.”

“When?” she acted like the question meant nothing, but her knuckles went white.

“The week before we left for the America tour. While I was on vacation.” I’d gone looking for a fling, and I’d found one. Hoping that I could fuck my way into not vomiting at the sight of Xander and Charlotte together for the entire impending trip.

“Not...since?”

I took her hands in mine, the book dropping to her lap.

“There has been no other woman since the moment I thought I had a chance with you. I told you that once, and it’s the truth.”

“How...how do you know the baby isn’t yours?’

“First, because I was always careful before you. Second, according to the dates on the ultrasound that I already turned over to Georgia, she was pregnant way before she ever met me.”

Her shoulders drooped, like the tension had drained right out of her.

“When she came at you with that sonogram...I just felt like everything was crumbling. Like our fairytale had just turned into a living nightmare.”

“It’s not,” I promised, stroking the soft skin of her cheek. “I promise you that everything is fine.”

“But is it? How many times is this going to happen? How many women am I going to have to watch touch your arm and know that they’ve had you inside of them?”

My chest tightened, and in that moment, I wanted to take everything back. Every woman I’d ever slept with, every mistake I’d ever made.

“I wish I’d known the future. I would have made so many different choices. But this is the man I am, and I can’t change the past. When you and Xander were...whatever it was you were, the jealousy ate at me every time you guys so much as danced together, and I knew you hadn’t had sex. I can’t imagine how you must feel, and I’m so sorry for ever putting you in a place where that could happen to you. I’m not Xander. I haven’t been perfect with my past, but I can promise you that I’ll be perfect for your future.”

“Perfect?” her lips raised in a slight smile.

“Okay, maybe not perfect for the world, but God, baby. I’ll be perfect for you.”

“Jaime…”

“No, let me finish. You asked me how many women there were, and I can’t answer that because I honestly don’t know. I never kept track. So that number isn’t something I can tell you. But what I can tell you? The number one. There’s only one woman I will ever touch for the rest of my life. One woman that I’ll make love to, have children with, spend every minute of my existence adoring. One, woman, Charlotte, and that’s you.”

Her mouth met mine in a sweet kiss.

“That’s all I needed to hear.”

I picked her up, holding her against my chest, and walked her to our bed. Then I slid the tie of her robe free, worshipped every inch of her skin again and again until she’d come so many times against my fingers and tongue that she was limp and sated. Then I built her back up again until her desire burned hotter than ever, and slid inside her with one smooth thrust of my hips.

“Mine,” I whispered against her neck.

“Mine,” she answered, her hands gripping my ass.

We moved together like music, like poetry, until her pleasure was mine and mine was hers. We found home in each other, and while I’d made love to her so many times before, this felt like the first time all over again.

Afterward, when I held her against me, her cheek on my chest, her breathing deep and regular with sleep, peace swept through me. Sure, this had been a minor storm in the face of the bigger one brewing, but I had Charlotte.

And that was everything.