Royal Mistake #6 Page 5

  “I know, I spoke with her…” Andrew’s gaze turns to mine. “I…I spoke with her before I left the hospital, Victoria.”

  I stare at him for a second. “And?”

  His brow furrows. “And you aren’t jealous?”

  “Why would I be jealous, Andrew? Didn’t you just ask me to marry you? And didn’t I say yes?”

  “Yes.” He gives me a weak grin. “Yes, you did.”

  “A decision that might have been…rash. For lack of a better word.”

  William’s eyebrows shoot up into the air again and he backs away from us slowly. “I…I think I hear Mother calling for me. I’ll see the two of you later.” He rocks back onto his heels for a moment before he turns and bolts down the hall.

  Andrew turns to me, pulling my hands into his. “What do you mean, rash?”

  “I…I wasn’t thinking. I mean—I was thinking. For myself. Not about what’s best for you. Or for your people.”

  “We did already discuss this, Victoria. The people of this country will come to love you, just as I do.”

  “And what about the people of King Maximilian’s country?”

  His eyebrows draw together again and he tilts his head. “What of them?”

  “Will they come to love me? Will you breaking your betrothal to Justine solve the land disputes between your father and King Maximilian? Because I’m pretty sure it’s going to make it worse.”

  He shakes his head. “It will do nothing of the sort.” He drops his arm from around my waist, moving it again to pull my hand into his. “Losing the scepter made things worse. Telling King Max it wasn’t mine to give or gamble away absolutely may make things worse. But you…” He shakes his head, the smile never leaving his lips. “You are the best thing that could happen to the country of Montovia. And you are the best thing that has happened to me. That must count for something, right?”

  “I…suppose.”

  He gives me a smile I can see is forced. “Good. Now, we need to return to the palace so you may change into something more formal before we receive our first guest as a couple.” He spins me to face him, sliding his arms around my waist before he dips his head to my ear. “And, Victoria, I imagine we might have a bit of time before he arrives to find our own way of celebrating our engagement.”

  Andrew

  Part of me is still so happy I can hardly think straight. Victoria is going to be my wife. That one fact has completely changed my world, opened my eyes to possibilities I never dared imagine.

  The other part of me knows these next few months will be difficult. And not just difficult—but a true test of this relationship and our commitment to each other. This was never going to be easy—we’re from two different worlds, and it isn’t lost on me that life here will be something of an adjustment for her—but I’d hoped we’d have a little time to bask in our happiness before tackling our first major challenge.

  And King Maximilian will definitely be a challenge.

  Still, I have every intention of holding my ground and standing up for my betrothed. It was my actions that put us into this position, and I have every intention of taking responsibility.

  Right now, though, I refuse to succumb to worry. We’ll face Maximilian when he gets here. In the meantime, I want to celebrate with Victoria. I won’t let a surly king ruin this beautiful day.

  We take a car back to the palace. On another day, I might have recommended we walk, but I’m not sure exposing her to public scrutiny right now would be the best option.

  When we return to the palace, I walk her to her room. I can see the worry on her face, and I want nothing more than to chase it all away.

  “Don’t fret,” I tell her. “We can conquer anything together.”

  “I have no idea what I’m even supposed to do,” she says. “I’ve never formally received anyone, let alone a king. Are there rules? Traditions I should know about? I don’t even know if I’m supposed to fucking bow.”

  “We’ll discuss everything,” I tell her. “But don’t worry—no one expects you to know everything right away.”

  “Not even King Maximilian?” She spins and looks at me. “You don’t think if I fuck up somehow he’s going to hold it against me? He’s already pissed. From what you guys have said about him, I suspect he’ll take every opportunity to use my inexperience against me.”

  “I will handle King Max,” I assure her. “On another occasion, I’d even be happy to let you stay in your chamber while the meeting took place. But I refuse to act like I’m ashamed of you, Victoria, especially in front of him. You are going to be my wife, and I couldn’t be prouder.”

  Her frown deepens. “Won’t he just think you’re rubbing it in his face? You just humiliated his daughter on live television.”

  “I stand by my decision,” I say. “And the only way through this is to continue to do so.”

  We’re at her door, but rather than go into her room immediately, I raise my hands to her face, gently cupping her cheeks.

  “I love you, Victoria,” I say softly. “I love you more than anyone and anything else in this world. Perhaps I shouldn’t admit such a thing, but I’d humiliate a thousand women on live television if it meant getting closer to you.”

  “Definitely keep that sentiment out of the press,” she says.

  “You are everything to me,” I continue. “I refuse to let anything come between us—and yes, that includes Maximilian. We belong together, you and I. And I always feel stronger when you are by my side.”

  She looks up at me with wide eyes. “I’m going to fuck this up somehow. I know it.”

  “You’re going to be wonderful. I know it.” I dip my face closer to hers.

  “I don’t even have anything to wear,” she says.

  “We’ll borrow something from my sister,” I murmur. “I’m sure we can find something that fits you.”

  “And the etiquette—”

  “As I said, I’ll go over everything with you. You’ll be brilliant, trust me.” My lips are even closer to hers now, but before I can kiss her, she pulls away.

  “I’m not cut out to be a royal,” she says, and I see the panic in her eyes. “I’m not.”

  “I believe your friend Elle said the same thing,” I tell her. “And yet now, at least from where I stand, she couldn’t be happier.” I straighten slightly. “Trust in your gifts, Victoria. You have many talents, and you’ve already won over my family.”

  “Not your father.”

  “My father will come to love you in time.” Please let him survive this ordeal. “And you cannot be blind to how my mother and siblings feel about you. You have a certain charm about you, Victoria. A genuineness that wins people over. My mother trusted you when we only knew you as a reporter, and her judgment is never wrong.” Though I wonder sometimes, considering she married my father.

  I push a bit of hair out of Victoria’s face. For a moment, neither of us speaks. Her eyes are full of fear and uncertainty, and I want nothing more than to bring back the pure joy I saw in them only an hour ago when she agreed to be my wife.

  “I need to get you your ring,” I say softly, taking her hand. “There are several in our treasury—heirlooms from several generations back. My mother once told me I’d have my pick of them when I decided to wed, and I always wondered how I’d choose between them. All of them are quite valuable, and all have a special place in my family.” I raise her fingers to my lips. “Now that I’ve found you, though, I know exactly which one belongs to you.”

  I see curiosity flicker in her eyes. “Which one?”

  “That, my love, is a surprise.” I brush my lips against her knuckles. It’s strange to think of a ring suiting a person, but the more I come to know Victoria, the more I come to see her everywhere—in trees, in the sky, and yes, even in a ring.

  I drop her hand and lean into her again, touching my lips lightly to hers.

  “We still have some time before our guest arrives,” I say. “What say we celebrate our engagement?” I kiss her m
ore fully this time, letting my mouth slide over hers until she clings to the front of my shirt.

  After a moment, though, she pulls back. “There isn’t time—”

  “There’s plenty of time for you,” I return. “Always.”

  I kiss her again, and this time she doesn’t pull away. Her arms slide up around my neck as my tongue slips into her mouth.

  No one will take this away from me. Not my father or King Maximilian.

  I grab the door handle behind her and twist it. Together we tumble into her chambers without even breaking our kiss.

  The moment the door is closed behind us again, my hands are on her clothes. I undress her in a matter of seconds, and her hands are hard at work on my clothes, too. In record time, we’re naked and clinging to each other.

  Her skin is so hot beneath my hands. I pull her hard against me, bare skin against bare skin, and I groan at the feeling of her hard nipples pressed against my chest.

  “I love you,” I tell her as my fingers tangle in her hair. “I’ll never stop loving you, Victoria.”

  “I love you, too,” she says.

  Our mouths find each other again, and I start to back her toward the bedroom—only I’ve forgotten that we’re in her room, not mine, so in my distraction I lead her the wrong way. I don’t realize my mistake until her back hits the window.

  A wise, patient man would recognize his mistake and correct course—but I’m neither of those things right now. All I know is that I want Victoria and I don’t want to wait another moment to join with her.

  Without warning, I grab her and lift her up. Her legs go around my waist, and her arms tighten around my neck as I press her back against the window. A small voice in the back of my mind points out that this is highly improper, that anyone passing by below might look up and see what we’re doing—but I don’t care. I need to be with her. Now.

  It only takes a moment of repositioning, and then a jerk of my hips—and then we’re joined again, intertwined as we were meant to be. She gasps as she sinks onto me, and I fight back an animal-like moan.

  She’s mine. Forever.

  Fuck those who would tear us apart. Fuck foreign kings and stupid drunken bets and everything else in this damned world. I won’t let them take away the joy I find in this woman—the joy we find in each other. She is truly my other half.

  I drive into her again and again, trying to show her with my body the things I still can’t quite put into words. She knows I love her, but what we have goes so much deeper than that. It’s physical, emotional, and spiritual—something as pure and true as life itself.

  I never imaged it could be like this. That I’d find someone who could both tear me completely apart and put me fully back together again. I no longer belong to myself, or even to Montovia—I belong to her, completely.

  My grip tightens on her as my body starts to tense. Her whimpers are turning into louder cries, and I know she’s getting close as well.

  My mouth finds hers again, moving roughly across her lips. I want to help her over the edge, but I’m not sure I can hold out much longer. All of this is beyond my control now—I can only be pulled along by this violent tide.

  But then she groans and stiffens against me, and a second later I feel her body tighten around my cock. My own release comes quickly, and I growl and dig my nails into the skin of her back as I empty myself into her.

  My muscles tremble as I carefully lower her to her feet. We’re still leaning against the window, but neither of us can seem to find the strength to pull away from each other—or to stand upright without any support.

  I lower my head and kiss the bare skin of her shoulder.

  “That was a fine start to our celebrations,” I murmur. “But I expect to continue this later tonight.”

  “Okay,” she says breathlessly.

  I kiss the base of her throat, then up the side of her neck. When I reach her ear, I pause.

  “You’ll do wonderfully today,” I murmur. “And just remember—I have your back every step of the way. We are stronger together.”

  She nods before letting her head fall forward to rest against my shoulder.

  I could stay here like this forever, just holding her. Feeling her warm, sweat-damp skin against mine. Sensing the tickle of her breath as she struggles to breathe normally again. She’s softness and fire, sweetness and passion, energy and light. She’s everything.

  But as much as I’d love to spend the rest of eternity right here, it won’t help her to upset King Maximilian. There are still many things that must be prepared before his arrival.

  “I’ll go find an appropriate dress for you from my sister’s wardrobe,” I tell her. “And order us a quick meal. As much as I’d love to spend the rest of the afternoon in your arms, I’m afraid we have a very long day ahead of us.”

  Victoria

  Andrew presses a kiss to my cheek. We hastily pull our clothes back on before he pulls me into his arms again.

  He holds me for a moment before he whispers into my ear. “When this day is over, Victoria, I promise you nothing short of a full night of celebration.” He kisses my temple before he pulls his head back far enough to look into my eyes. “You have made me the happiest man on earth. And I intend to show my gratitude to you for that in every conceivable manner.”

  I can’t help but smile at the thought. It isn’t until he leaves a few moments later that the reality of what’s happening begins to sink in.

  I’m not even sure how this happened. I love Andrew—more than I’ve ever loved any man. But I can’t believe I let myself actually accept his proposal—at least, not in the middle of this mess. How the hell am I supposed to receive a king with him? He seems pretty confident that it’s not a big deal, but he’s been doing these things since his birth. The most formal thing I’ve ever been to before today was a movie awards show. And that might be formal for Hollywood, but it’s hardly as formal as doing whatever the hell it is royalty does.

  What did I get myself into?

  Part of me knows I can’t keep second-guessing my decision to say yes when Andrew asked me to marry him. I did it. I said the word, even though it was my heart talking and definitely not my head. It’s probably not too late to back out, though I know doing it now would break Andrew’s heart. Hell, it would break my heart. I’m not sure I could live without him at this point. And I know I definitely don’t want to.

  I’ll figure out a way to get through this, even though it’s scary as fuck. Being out of my comfort zone is supposed to build character, right? Having to stand next to Andrew this afternoon as we receive the archrival of the Montovian royal family should definitely be character building for me.

  If I keep my mouth shut, I won’t screw anything up for him. And I can do that. I’ll just stand by Andrew’s side, pretending I’m not horrified at the idea of having to do be a demure prop of a fiancée for the rest of my life—because it really is only temporary.

  Yeah. Because at some point, I’ll be a demure prop of a wife…

  My heart sinks to my toes. This is not what I wanted from my life—to be a sidekick or whatever. I was going to do things. Real things. Write important stories as I traveled the world to uncover them. Meet important people and tell about their lives. Report on life changing world events as they happened.

  The vision for my life was definitely not standing next to a man and smiling at some visiting king who probably thinks my value is somewhere between dirt and a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe.

  I have to get out of this somehow. Remind Andrew that I have bigger fish to fry than King Maximilian. Not that I don’t understand why this is important to him. I get that he wants him to give the rights to the royal scepter thing back to Montovia, and he wants it back without having to give up anything in return. I also understand that Andrew thinks he has the law on his side now, whatever the hell that means. And he thinks he can tie all of this up in a pretty bow, even though Princess Justine is the one who has taken the brunt of the humi
liation in this entire scenario—a woman who never had anything to do with any of Andrew’s idiotic schemes.

  She shouldn’t have had to suffer for it. Part of me is thankful I wasn’t born a royal—that I had no one telling me who I should marry for the betterment of my country. But then again, maybe it takes the pressure off, too. And it isn’t as though any of the royal families suffer—they want for nothing. Maybe being betrothed is a small price to pay for living that lifestyle.

  My thoughts are interrupted by a knock at the door. I’m a little surprised Andrew feels like he needs to knock at all, especially now. I walk over to open the door for him to tell him that, but he isn’t standing on the other side.

  My lady’s maid smiles and edges around me into the room with several dresses in her arms. “His Highness asked that I find a few things from Princess Sophia’s wardrobe that would be appropriate for your reception this afternoon.” She motions with her head to the garments in her hand. “If you don’t care for any of these, Her Highness has many more to choose from.”

  “I…I’m sure these are fine.” I follow the woman into my bedroom and watch as she hangs the dresses on a rack near the full-length mirror on the wall.

  Her voice sounds purposefully cheerful—almost phony. She flashes me a wide smile. “I’ll be happy to help you dress.” She clears her throat. “Ms. Simpson.”

  “Victoria. Please, there’s no need for formality—”

  “On the contrary.” Her grin seems almost plastered on her face. “There was much discussion this afternoon as to what how we should refer to you—”

  “And by we, you mean—”

  “The servants, of course, Ms. Simpson.” She pauses, but the smile never leaves her face. “Several members of the staff believed that now that you and His Highness are officially engaged—”

  “News travels quickly around here, doesn’t it?” I lift a brow. “I wasn’t aware there had been a formal announcement. He only even asked me a little while ago.”

  She bobs her head a few times, motioning to the dresses again. “We should get you dressed. I think the black gown would be most appropriate, but the navy or gray would also look splendid on you.”