Royal Catch, page 12
My father’s voice is hoarse. “End the games. Make the right choice, Gabriel.” His eyes drift closed. “Running out of time,” he murmurs before falling asleep.
My mother leans back in her chair and closes her eyes. She probably hasn’t slept much, vigilant on my father’s behalf whenever he’s doing poorly. I give her shoulder a squeeze. She puts her hand on mine and gives me a squeeze back before releasing my hand.
Now is not the time to rebel. I know what I must do—marry the bride they’ve chosen for me, to bring my father peace. I stand, bow my head to them both, and take my leave.
I pace the long halls of the palace, restless energy driving me. I know my duty, my responsibility, but I cannot reconcile myself to it.
An hour later, I find myself at Polly’s room. I try the door and it’s unlocked. I step inside to a quiet room. The light is on, but no Polly. The bathroom door is open. She’s probably the type to leave it open, having no sense of modesty or propriety. It tickles me because it’s so wrong, so the opposite of everything I’ve known. She’s the rebel I could never be.
“Polly?”
I hear a squeak and then she appears from the floor beside her bed, wearing some fantastic workout clothes, a neon blue sports bra and tiny black spandex shorts. “Hi! I was just doing my planks. It clears my head and tones my core.”
My gaze drifts to her flat toned belly, and my mouth goes dry. My fingers tingle with the urge to touch her.
“You’ve got the sexiest bedroom eyes I’ve ever seen.” She closes the distance, hips swaying, mesmerizing me.
I pull her into my arms and kiss her with all the intensity of what I’m feeling. A long while later, I release her, my eyes locked on hers, wishing things could be different, wishing there was another way. “My bride has been chosen for me. Francesca.”
She looks away, her voice quiet. “I figured. She’s the only one left.”
“Besides you.”
She backs away. “Now, we both know that’s a nonstarter. I could never be queen of Villroy. I don’t fit in here.”
“You will be someone else’s wife one day. Some lucky man.” She’ll marry someone from her kingdom probably. Or maybe she’ll be stuck in a soulless alliance of kingdoms as I am. This all feels wrong.
I sink heavily to the bed and rest my elbows on my knees. “I cannot let my father down. He’s suffering and needs peace of mind.” And then I think of what my father truly needs, what we all need, a way forward for Villroy. Fresh blood with fresh ideas, as my mother said. For the first time it occurs to me that Polly’s rebellious nature, her free spirit, could actually be an asset. Something to embrace not restrict.
I straighten as this new idea takes hold. “Maybe the fact that you don’t fit the mold is a good thing. You could help make some much-needed changes around here.”
She stares at me with so much longing in her eyes I feel hopeful. She understands what I’m asking. If she would agree to be my wife, I would fight for that right. But then she looks away, her lips pressed into a flat line.
“Polly.” I hate the desperate tone in my voice. I have never sounded desperate in my life. Nothing has ever mattered as much.
She sits next to me and gives my arm a reassuring squeeze. “Francesca is smart. She was the only one who could figure out the economic puzzle clue. I’m sure she can help with whatever you need. She’s a good choice.” Her voice is strained. She’s trying to do the honorable thing and set me on the proper path.
“She’s the king and queen’s choice. Not mine.”
She leans her cheek against my arm, wrapping her arm around mine and entwining our fingers together. “Thanks for your help, Gabriel. I appreciate it, and the funds from today’s challenge will be put to good use. I called home, and everything is all set. It might save a life.”
I jolt. “Are you in danger too?”
“No, someone close to me. She’s not about to die, but she needs my help to live. I can’t tell you any more than that.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “You’re a good person. And I’m the worst kind of person because I don’t want to give you your freedom.” I drop my hand and turn to her. “I want you to stay.”
She slowly shakes her head. “I’m not what you need. Deep down you know that; the king and queen know that. Give it some time and you’ll forget all about me.”
“I won’t. Polly, I will be king and I need—”
“Someone else.” She lets go of my hand and shifts away. “You will do your duty because you’re an honorable man. It’s in your DNA.”
“You would refuse me?”
She takes a deep shuddering breath and looks at a point over my shoulder. “Yes.”
I cup her cheek, turning her to me, and find her eyes shiny with unshed tears. This isn’t easy for her either. Real emotion is banked deep in there, whether she’ll admit it or not.
I’m not sure who moves first, but we’re drawn together. I slowly lower her to the bed, our mouths fused together, her arms wrapping around me. At least we can have this. For just a little longer.
~ ~ ~
Anna
I’m compartmentalizing, which I’m aces at. There’s Anna’s life back home as a beautician, and then there’s Anna’s fairy-tale life living it up in a palace, stealing kisses (and getting dirty) with the crown prince. It’s Saturday night and my flight is booked for Monday morning. I’m pretending I’m an honored guest of the royal family this weekend. It’s the only way I can enjoy my remaining time here without having a breakdown.
I head to the dining room to meet Gabriel and his younger siblings for dinner. I’m sure they’ve been summoned for their opinion on the potential brides. Francesca will also be there. Knowing the decision has to be her allows me to completely relax about meeting so many royals at once. Everything has been taken care of for Polly, which is a huge relief. The needed funds were transferred to her private foundation. She’ll direct the funds as needed for a primo lawyer. At some point I’m sure someone will notice the money has gone to a lawyer in Florida, but she hopes to be on the move again far away from Florida before that happens. I’ll miss her, but I feel good about my part in helping her live life on her terms.
Gabriel is waiting for me, standing tall and proud just outside the dining room. This is a man who would never slouch. He’s impossibly gorgeous in a crisp white dress shirt, gray dress pants, and black leather shoes. My cheeks flush and all of my nerve endings tingle like I touched a live wire. It’s like my body remembers the sensation of his touch, and just seeing him can have an effect on me. I’ve got it bad. It’s horrible.
I work to keep it light. “Hello, handsome. Am I the first one here?”
He smiles at me warmly, and my pulse thrums through my veins. “Emma and Phillip are in there. Still waiting on the others.” He leans down to kiss my cheek. “You look beautiful.”
I can’t help my wide smile. I’m wearing a green sleeveless dress, low cut, belted waist, and it barely covers my ass. I think it looks fab, but it’s not royal material. Gabriel appreciates it because he appreciates me. Another time, another place, another life, we might have had something. “Thank you.”
He escorts me into the room, his hand on my lower back. I stop short and whisper to him, “You shouldn’t touch me in public. It’s not fair to Francesca.” Thankfully, she’s not here yet.
“I don’t care.”
He’s playing this wrong. He’s going to screw up everything for something that could never work. He doesn’t know who I really am. This place prides itself on long family lines dating back to the Vikings. I read up on it in the royal library. The Rourkes have a proud history, a foundation set in stone, literally, with the first round Viking fortress. The remains of the fortress are not far from the palace, a constant reminder of their heritage. And as much as I’ve always longed for that kind of foundation, I know I don’t belong here.
I rush ahead of his hand and smile at his siblings. “Hi, I’m Polly. Nice to meet you.”
Phillip—the royal hottie, I recognize him from his many online pictures—stands to greet me. He takes my hand in a warm clasp. He resembles Gabriel with his thick dark brown hair, beautiful blue-green eyes, and square jaw, except there’s an open friendliness to his expression. Maybe Gabriel would’ve been more like Phillip without the pressure of being the heir.
“I saw you when you first arrived,” Phillip says. “You were so entranced by Gabriel you didn’t even notice me in the entrance hall.”
My eyes widen and I do a quick mental rewind. He’s right. I took one step into the palace and latched onto Gabriel in his tux. He was such a gorgeous mesmerizing presence that I was only dimly aware of the other people standing behind him, fading into the background.
My cheeks flush hot and Phillip chuckles. We both turn to Gabriel. His eyes are warm on mine, a smile playing over his lips. I can’t help my goofy smile back. He’s still mesmerizing.
“I’ve heard quite a lot about you, Polly,” Phillip says.
I reluctantly turn from Gabriel. “All good, I hope!” Highly doubtful. The queen probably raged about my impropriety.
Phillip smiles, but doesn’t comment. Instead he gestures toward Emma, who’s sitting across the table from him. Emma looks like a proper princess—long dark brown hair parted nearly in the middle, big innocent hazel eyes, cute perky nose, full pink lips. Her dress is modest, a pink short-sleeved sheath.
She smiles at me, remaining seated. “Hello, Polly, I’m Emma. We watched some of the competition on video this morning. You’re quite the athlete. Are you supremely motivated to win the right to marry stuffy old Gabriel?” She winks at Gabriel.
“The fact that the competition was filmed was supposed to be a secret,” Gabriel replies in a mild reprimand to Emma. He must really love his little sister, because he’s usually much gruffer with everyone else. Not so much with me anymore. Sex will do that to a man, soften him up. Actually, more like harden him. Stop thinking about sex with Gabriel!
Emma slaps a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide. “I’m so sorry.”
“No harm done,” Gabriel replies. “Polly knows. Just don’t mention it once Francesca arrives.” He pulls out a chair for me. “Polly.”
I take the offered seat, and he sits at the head of the table on my right. Emma is across from me. Phillip switches seats to sit next to me, which draws a frown from Gabriel.
Gabriel turns to me. “Emma has had an arranged marriage since she was sixteen. They’ll marry soon after her twenty-fifth birthday, only a few months from now.”
“Are you serious?” I can’t help my astonishment. I could see it with the heir, but further down the line they’re still being forced into arranged marriages?
Gabriel is matter-of-fact. “It’s the preferred way. The recent bridal competition has been very much the exception. My siblings are not required to agree to the arrangement. They can ask for a more suitable candidate. Emma agreed without question to the husband chosen for her. She’s always been the most proper of princesses.” His speech is more proper now. I wonder if it becomes more casual the more comfortable he is. With me, in the dark of the night, he sounds different—warm, casual, dirty. My favorite.
“I do my duty as I should,” she returns.
“We’re quite alike in that way,” Gabriel says, his eyes warm for his sister.
“The only two in our generation,” Phillip says. “Everyone else turned an arrangement down. You two really took to the proper protocol, didn’t you?” He turns to me. “Emma’s not even close in line to the throne. She just loves rules and the sense of carrying on tradition.”
Emma levels Phillip with a hard look. “Without rules the world is chaos. Our traditions are what sustain us. Villroy has a revered history, and that continuity won’t be lost on my watch.”
“Do you agree, Polly?” Phillip asks.
The truth is I can see both sides. There’s freedom in making your own decisions, but there’s also something beautiful about taking your place in a revered history. That sense of rooted tradition on Villroy must give them a built-in sense of their place in the world. Then I think of Gabriel and shape my answer in a way that will set him on the right path.
“I suppose rules and tradition can be important.”
Phillip’s eyes dance with good humor. “And are you a rule follower?”
I snort-laugh. “No.” Oops! Too much me. “I mean, yes. I’ve been raised to follow the royal protocol of my kingdom.” I have to remember to stick to the princess script.
Phillip smiles at me. “But it’s not easy, right?”
I laugh. “Right.”
“So tell me all about you. Were you raised in the US?”
All eyes are on me. I can’t screw this up for Polly this late in the game. The less I say, the better. “Partly.”
“And why is that?”
I stick with one-word answers. “Education.”
Phillip nods once. “Our sister Silvia studied in the US. You must’ve been there quite a while to pick up the accent.”
“Mmm-hmm.” I focus on arranging my napkin in my lap and order my cheeks to stop flushing hot. This is the first time I’ve had to answer so many direct questions about Polly.
The door to the dining room opens. Saved! The arrival of not one, not two, but three handsome princes is a welcome sight. They’re dressed similarly in button-down shirts and tailored pants, all of them with the same thick dark brown hair and tall muscular build. One has a neatly trimmed beard; the other two have sexy scruff.
“There’s the royal bachelor, star of the Rourke reality show!” the one with the beard exclaims, pointing at Gabriel. He holds a pretend microphone out to him. “Who will you choose, Polly or Francesca?”
Gabriel glares at him. “Idiot. That was supposed to be a secret. Luckily for you, Polly already knows. Do not mention anything about the reality show in front of Francesca. She’s due any moment.”
Beard man grins down at me, completely unrepentant. His eyes match Gabriel’s aquamarine color. “Sorry and hello, Princess Polly. I’m Lucas.” He shakes my hand and turns to Gabriel. “We all watched the show earlier when we visited Father. They forgot to have a rose ceremony, though.”
“Enough,” Gabriel says.
Lucas salutes him and turns to me, hitching a thumb toward his newly arrived brothers. “The ugly one is Oscar; the crafty one is Adrian.”
Oscar flashes a smile, and he’s stunningly gorgeous. Honestly, if I were picking, I’d say he should be called the royal hottie in the press. Gabriel is obviously the most gorgeous, but he’s above all that kind of nonsense.
Oscar takes my hand and kisses the back of it. His aquamarine eyes are warm on mine. “I can only hope one day to transform from ugly duckling into a swan. So nice to meet you, Polly.”
I actually blush. “Thank you. You too.”
Adrian greets me warmly—hazel eyes on that one—before taking the seat next to Emma.
I turn to Gabriel and whisper, “Why did he call Adrian crafty?”
“He’s a card shark.”
“Ah.”
“Silvia just arrived,” Lucas tells Gabriel. “She went straight to Father.” That’s his youngest sister, Adrian’s twin.
Gabriel inclines his head.
“That’s everyone, right?” I ask Gabriel. “Where’s Francesca?”
“I don’t know.” Gabriel signals to a servant to check on her.
An uneasy feeling goes through me. What if she bailed? Or fell ill? I don’t think I can be the sole focus of five princes and a princess without slipping up somewhere.
Lucas grins at Gabriel, his teeth a flash of white against his dark beard. “I can’t believe you of all people went along with this competition. Temporary insanity? It’s the only reasonable explanation.”
“It was the least I could do for our father given his condition,” Gabriel says.
“I thought we weren’t to speak of it to outsiders,” Emma whispers.
All eyes turn to me. I look to Gabriel.
Gabriel exhales sharply. “I’ve shared with Polly because she’s going through something similar with her father.”
His siblings offer quiet sympathy to me. I nod, blinking rapidly as I think of Mike.
Gabriel continues. “This competition has brought him some happiness in his last days. I’m sorry I shielded you from that truth. He doesn’t have much longer.”
Suddenly the importance of Gabriel choosing the right bride hits me. I knew his father was in bad shape, but I hadn’t realized he was in his last days. No wonder they had this crazy competition, narrowing us down within a week. He must choose Francesca. Bile rises in my throat. I knew he’d marry another, but the reality of it so soon is hard to stomach.
“What?” Lucas exclaims. “I visited with him earlier, and he didn’t say a word about it. In fact, he was joking with me.”
“He shields you as well,” Gabriel says. “He wants you to enjoy your life. I want you to have a chance to say goodbye.”
The room goes quiet.
“Is it really his last days?” Phillip asks. “Is that what the doctor said?”
“The doctor says there’s nothing more that can be done,” Gabriel says bluntly. “He’s definitely worse, in more pain, sleeping more, wasting away.” His voice catches, and my own throat tightens in sympathy. He clears his throat. “We need to make arrangements for the future of Villroy. We must be prepared.”
Another long silence as the painful truth sinks in. I’m glad his siblings know. For too long, Gabriel shouldered the burden alone. Now they can comfort each other.
Lucas gestures over to me. “I suppose you’re part of the future arrangements. Gabriel has confided in you. He doesn’t confide in anyone.” That last part comes out bitter. I can’t blame him. It must suck to be left out of something so important.
I shift in my seat, my chest tight because I know I’m not part of Gabriel’s future. “Actually, Francesca is a wonderful candidate. I’ve told Gabriel he should choose her.” My voice cracks, and I cover with a big fat lie. “I wish them both the best.” What I really wish is that Gabriel weren’t the crown prince tied to duty and obligation. I can’t look at him, though I feel his eyes on me.
