Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 93840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
“No, thanks. At least not right now. Are you making something for dinner?”
She stared at me with daggers. “You ask me such things. Since when have I not fed you, Your High—”
“No! Shit. Jesus. Shhh,” I squawked, looking around. “Zip it with the honorific, please.”
Her eyes widened.
“Why are you even calling me that? You never say that shit to me,” I accused.
“Because you were acting high-and-mighty, and I was reminding you that I’ve never let a royal—”
“Zzzt,” I snapped again. “No mention of royal, please.”
“William Triannon Frederik Harald Christien, what the hell has gotten into you?”
I clenched my teeth together and thought of how best to approach the topic. Before I had a chance to say anything, my bodyguard Jon came in.
“There you are, sir. I was looking all over for you.”
I rolled my eyes. “Can we… Listen, is there any way we could all agree to put the whole…” I glanced around to make sure no one else was in hearing distance. “Royal thing away for a few days?”
They both looked at me like I was crazy.
I continued. “No ‘sir,’ no Lior, no prince or highness crap. Just Lio, plain and simple.”
“But, sir,” Jon began.
I held up a hand to stop him. “You work for me, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then you have to do what I say, right?”
“Unless what you say puts you in danger…”
“Then I insist you stop calling me anything other than Lio while we’re at Gadleigh.”
Mari looked at me with suspicion. “What’s going on? What’s gotten into you, boy?”
“I just want a break from it, okay? This is the closest I ever feel to normal. I want to leave all that shit behind for a little while.” I pulled my upper lip between my teeth for a beat. “Okay?”
Jon studied me before responding. “Yes, s… Lio.”
“Thank you.” I turned to look at Mari. “And can you tell Bert also, please? And spread the word to the household staff?”
“If that’s what you want,” she huffed. “But if I was prince of—”
I cut her off. “You’re not.”
She glared at me again. “And you’d better thank your lucky stars for that one, kid.”
I leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. “Thanks, Mari. I owe you one. Now, about dinner…”
After arranging everything, I headed up to my rooms to shower and dress.
Arthur was there, reading the paper in front of the fire while griping about the cold wind coming off the sea.
“This is why I wanted to go to the Maldives, but no, you wanted to come to Gadleigh,” he muttered. “Well, I hope you’re happy.”
“I am, as a matter of fact. Happy and hoping to get lucky tonight.”
He folded the newspaper down and stared at me. “I beg your pardon?”
“I met someone.”
He looked around behind himself as if there were sexy men hidden somewhere in the room. “Where?”
“Here. Downstairs,” I said. “You should have come with me. Maybe he would have flirted with you instead of me. You snooze, you lose.”
“I was hardly snoozing. I was working. You know, that thing some of us do for money.”
“Pfft. Working is for losers. You should quit that boring crap,” I teased. He was the most pampered man who worked in the palace, and he knew it.
“Don’t think I haven’t dreamed about it on occasion. So, who is this lucky local?”
“Not a local. He’s an American. And his name is Felix. He’s here studying the glass, and he’s cute as hell.”
Arthur rolled his eyes. “Glad you have your priorities straight, sir,” he said, before leaving my room in the direction of his own.
That’s when the stupidity of my actions hit me full force.
I’d escaped to Gadleigh to spend some serious alone time thinking through my future. The future that demanded my playing the role of dutiful king with a queen, an heir, and a spare. Not a string of secret hookups with men.
By the time seven o’clock rolled around, I was antsy as hell. My brain flipped back and forth between wanting one last fuck with an attractive man and trying to convince myself it was time to be done with foolish ways.
The fling argument was made in a voice that sounded suspiciously like Iggy’s while the foolish warning was spoken in the voice of my father.
Both voices fell silent when I saw Felix approach the kitchen. He was wide-eyed and clearly nervous. He walked into the space as if ready to ask permission simply to exist in this world. Something about him made me want to kiss his vulnerability right off his cute fucking face. I wanted to hand him the keys to the kingdom—to tell him it was my house and he was as welcome in it as anyone.
But of course, I didn’t.
“Hey,” I said, low enough to avoid startling him. “Here comes Trouble.”
He smiled shyly.
“Hey. I… um, is this okay?” He gestured to the thick dark sweater he wore, gray wool trousers, a heavy dress coat, a gray-and-black striped scarf hanging loose over his coat’s lapels, and a hot-pink beanie perched on his head.