The Bad Royals Box Set: The Complete Royally Unexpected Series, page 94
My tongue slides out to moisten my lips, but my mind feels completely empty. I scramble to think of something to say—anything.
Anything at all.
Earth to Margot? Where have you gone? Say something!
Where did my brain go? Did it go on a long journey with that droplet of water? Why am I suddenly mute?
The Prince clears his throat. “I’d better…”
“Yeah,” I say, averting my gaze. “I’ll see you…”
“Thanks…”
“Uh-huh.”
We stumble over each other’s words until the Prince coughs into his fist and turns around.
I cringe hard, releasing a breath as soon as I hear his bedroom door close.
Why am I like this?
I swear, I’m the worst famous person in the world. I somehow missed the classes on poise and grace, and hung onto my core awkwardness.
Hunter used to say it’s what made me relatable, and part of the reason that I’ve been as successful as I’ve been. People see me, and they recognize themselves.
I just wish people didn’t love a cringey, awkward mess. Do normal people knock things over every single day? Do normal people think Dante of Freaking Argyle is actually Todd the Plumber?!
Just another thing for my anxious brain to obsess over in the middle of the night, I guess. Add it to the long list of material that I already have.
A few months ago, Ivy and I ended up on a yacht with Prince Beckett, Prince Luca, and a bunch of celebrities. I fell in the water, and Ivy had to jump in to save me. It was all over the news for days. I laughed it off, but I died a thousand times every time I saw a photo of me flailing in the water.
That little episode has been playing on repeat in my mind every night, so at least now I’ll have something new to cringe about when I can’t sleep.
My phone chimes from the living room, and I release a heavy sigh.
It’ll be some notification of another news story about me.
Hunter used to tell me that all publicity was good publicity. Now, I just find it all exhausting. It makes me wonder what else Hunter did to keep me on top. What other crimes were committed in my name?
My phone lights up again, and I turn away in disgust.
I once compared being famous to being locked up in a high tower, with no doors or stairs leading up to the top. I can see life as it’s lived for everyone else—for people like Ivy and her friends, Giselle and Georgina. They can lead normal lives. They can go through their happiness and sadness in private, finding joy in whatever pockets of life they choose to look.
I don’t even know how I got up here. The tower is luxurious, don’t get me wrong. I’m grateful for all the money that I’ve earned, and all the boxes of gifts that I’m sent every single day. I’m grateful for the fast track at the airport, and the private cars and jets that take me wherever I need to go.
I’m not wanting for anything…
…except genuine connection.
The only people I can truly trust are Ivy and my hair stylist Melissa. Ivy was the only one who was strong enough to walk away from me when I was being self-destructive. Melissa is the only person, other than Ivy, who was fully supportive of my three-month retreat.
Ivy ended up poisoned because of her connection to me.
Because of me.
Another ding sounds from my phone, and I march over to it with a huff. Without looking at the screen, I turn it on silent and put it on a high shelf.
I can’t look at it right now.
Ever since I’ve gotten back to Farcliff, the media have all wanted a piece of me. I’m supposed to do an exclusive exposé with one of the main media outlets in Farcliff next week. The ‘tell-all’ interview that will have people salivating at the thought of my shortcomings.
My publicist has been contacting me non-stop. My most lucrative brand sponsorship—with a haircare company, on account of my trademark blonde locks—is on the rocks. I touch my head, itching at the base of my hair extensions.
All I want to do is rip them out. I’d get rid of my blonde hair in an instant, but that would mean risking my image and my career.
I have to do the tell-all interview, prove myself worthy of being sponsored, and then life can go on as normal.
Except for this little problem growing in my uterus. I won’t exactly be the model spokeswoman for mental health, recovery, and redemption when I have Prince Beckett’s baby growing inside me.
No—calling my child a problem is wrong. My baby is a gift. This baby gives me more strength than I can say, and provides me with a ladder that I can use to climb down from the tower where I’ve held myself captive.
With a child, I’ll be a mother. Nothing else. Not a famous actress, not a former model, not a celebrity or a socialite.
I’ll be a mom.
What’s more beautiful than that?
I slink out the front door and let my feet take me to the edge of my property. I peer through the fence at the world beyond, wondering what it would be like to be normal.
What if I didn’t have the weight of the world’s expectations on my shoulders?
What if I hadn’t been made to provide for my entire family when I was just a kid?
What if I’d had a normal childhood?
I glance behind me at the big, luxurious house, and I sigh.
I wouldn’t have all that. There wouldn’t be two princes living with me, and Ivy would never have met the love of her life.
As trapped as I feel, I have to stay grateful.
Ivy got off the hamster wheel. She’s chasing her dream with the bakery. She isn’t attached to me anymore, and she’s living her life the way she wants to.
Maybe I can do the same.
My hand slides over my abdomen, and a smile drifts over my lips.
This baby will change everything.
4
DANTE
Luca emerges from a bedroom across the hall at the same time as I walk out of mine.
I nod to him. “I need to talk to you.”
“News from Argyle?”
“More like lack of news.”
Luca grunts, gesturing down the stairs. He leads me to a small study at the back of the mansion. There are messy stacks of papers on a desk beside a photo of Margot and Ivy when they were little girls. I pick up the photo, staring at the open-mouthed laugh on Margot’s frozen face.
There’s a lightness in her eyes that I didn’t see in her today.
That’s what growing older in the public eye does, I guess. Dims your smile. I’ve seen it in Theo, in Luca, and even in Beckett. They’ve all spent their lives in front of the cameras, under intense scrutiny, and they’ve all become more guarded than they were before.
I saw it in my parents. It tore my mother and father apart, and it might be the reason my mother, the Queen, went to look for love in other places. Like the King’s brother’s bed.
Shaking my head, I bring myself back to the present. Now is not the time to dwell on the past. I put the photo back down and turn to look at my brother. Luca arches an eyebrow.
“So? What’s the news?”
I take a deep breath. “Beckett is still in the wind. Theo has upped security at all the airports and ports, but he could have slipped away from Argyle already. The truth is, we don’t know where he is.”
Luca nods. Our half-brother was here in Farcliff with Luca, and we’ve just discovered that he attempted to swap out Luca’s painkillers for dangerously powerful drugs. Had Luca taken them, he would almost certainly have overdosed.
“Still no idea why he wanted to kill you?” I ask.
Luca sighs, slumping down onto a chair. “When he attacked me…” He shakes his head. “He just said he’d been jealous of me. Said he loved Cara and thought she would start seeing him after I was injured. He didn’t like seeing me with Margot.”
“But you were never with Margot.” My voice is hard. I frown, not liking the pang that shoots through my chest.
Luca shakes his head. “Nah. It was all just publicity, like I was supposed to do. Ivy’s always been the one.”
I nod, the tension in my shoulders easing.
Am I jealous?
“Theo wants me to bring you home,” I say after a pause.
Luca arches an eyebrow. “Are you Theo’s little lapdog now? You go and fetch for him?”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t be an idiot, Luca. You’ll be safer in Argyle. The systems we’ve developed are world-class. Here in Farcliff, we’re exposed.”
“I can’t leave Ivy. Beckett knows how much I care about her, and if he really wants to hurt me, the easiest way to do it is through her. I have to stay.”
“So, bring her. Let’s go back to Argyle together.”
“Why is it safer there?” His eyebrows draw together. “If they think Beckett is still in Argyle, wouldn’t it be safer for us to stay here?”
“We don’t know where he is, Luca,” I explain. “And we don’t know who to trust here.”
Luca lets out a sigh, shaking his head. “No. I’m not going back. Ivy just re-opened the bakery. We have to stay. And if she’s here, I’m here. That’s non-negotiable. Let Beckett come here and try to kill me again.”
I turn away from him, crossing my arms. Staring out the window, I try to find the words to explain what I’m thinking. Luca spent five years away from Argyle. I went from having my best friend and brother at my side every day, to not even seeing him once.
After the accident that broke his back, Luca spent years recovering in Singapore. He refused to let us come visit him.
I missed him. Now, I want him to come home.
But when I look at my brother again, I see a different man. He picks up the same photo that I’d been looking at, and his eyes soften.
I know he’s not looking at Margot’s laughing face. He’s looking at Ivy.
Luca’s in love.
My brother has always been fiercely loyal. He loved Cara, now our Queen, from the time he was five or six years old. Growing up, I always thought they’d end up together.
When she married Theo, I thought Luca would never come back home.
But he did. He loves Argyle. He loves our family…
…and now, he loves Ivy, too.
I have to respect that.
I nod, making a decision. “I’m staying too, then.”
Luca’s eyebrow arches. “What?”
“I’m staying with you.”
“Wouldn’t you be safer in Argyle?”
“Maybe,” I say. “But I…I care about you, Luca.” A lump forms in my throat. It’s not often that we talk to each other like this, but I need to get the words out. “I missed you. And I’m not going to leave you here on your own to fend for yourself. At least if I’m here, we can both watch over the bakery. We can keep an eye on each other’s backs for any sign of Beckett. I can help.”
Luca gulps, standing up. He stares at me. “You would do that?”
I chuckle. “I’m not that much of a hermit.”
“You haven’t spent more than a few days away from Argyle since you were ten.”
I grin. “Okay, maybe I am that much of a hermit. I just don’t like being in the public eye. It’s not for me.”
“The media in Farcliff are vultures. If they catch wind that you’re here…”
“I’ll take that chance. I’ve spent the past couple of decades staying out of the public eye. I think I can do it here, too.”
“You’d do that for me?”
I nod, not trusting my voice. I’ve spent so much time away from Luca that it feels right to stay here with him. He needs me more than Theo does. Our King is surrounded by the castle walls and thousands of palace guards.
In a way, I feel like Luca deserves Ivy’s love. He should stay here and be happy with her, if that’s what he wants. He went through the most horrible accident I could imagine, broke his back, learned to walk again, was betrayed by the woman he loved, only to find someone who he loves even more.
I’ll stand by him.
Before I can react, Luca wraps his arms around me in a bone-crushing hug. He lifts my feet off the ground—not an easy feat, considering I’m an inch taller than him—and sets me back down with a thud.
When he pulls away, Luca’s eyes are misty. “Thank you, Dante.”
“I’ll call Theo to let him know.”
I give him a smile and turn toward the door, pausing when I reach it. I glance over my shoulder. “You got any clothes I can borrow? I only brought one sweater, and I don’t think it’ll do much against the cold.”
Luca laughs, nodding. “Yeah, but you’d better not stretch it out. I’ll get someone to buy you a winter wardrobe.”
“Thanks.” I grin at my brother.
When I walk out of the study, I let out a sigh. Something significant has shifted. I’m stepping out of my cocoon to be here. I’m going out on a limb to stay by my brother’s side, and it might mean facing the public scrutiny. It might mean being photographed and talked about—especially considering I’m living with one of the most famous celebrities in the Kingdom.
But Luca’s worth it. He’s my brother, and I’ve been away from his side for too long. If my job is to keep him safe, then I’ll have to do it from here.
I walk down the hallway just as the front door opens. Margot steps through, locking the door behind her. My eyes sweep over her curves, and I long to tangle my fingers in her long, golden hair.
Maybe a small part of me wanted to stay for her, too. It’s been a long, long time since I’ve met a woman who can make me feel the way she does.
As if she senses my stare, Margot turns around and meets my gaze. Heat floods my body from my head down to my toes, swirling around my chest and landing somewhere in the pit of my stomach. My veins ignite, and every bit of my body wants to get closer to her.
The actress gives me a small curtsy as she blushes.
I frown. “What are you doing?”
“Curtsying, Your Highness.”
My frown deepens. “Curtsying? Your Highness?” I fight the grin off my face. “Ma’am, you have me mistaken for someone else. I’m Todd. I just fixed your pool pump.”
5
MARGOT
I would laugh harder if I wasn’t so mortified. I giggle, covering my eyes with my hand.
“Don’t make me re-live that,” I groan.
The Prince chuckles, walking toward me. “You don’t have to curtsy every time you see me, Margot. I’m living in your house.”
I drag my gaze up to meet his, and a dagger of heat pierces my stomach, staying lodged deep in my center. Gulping, I nod. “Okay.”
The Prince nods to the door behind me. “Everything okay out there?”
The way Prince Dante’s eyebrows draw together makes me feel like he really cares. His shoulders straighten, and as he closes the distance between us, I feel safer than I’ve felt in a long time. The persistent, nagging feeling that something bad is going to happen fades away, and I’m able to breathe easier.
I nod. “Yeah. I just needed some air.”
“I’m not that bad, am I?” Prince Dante’s eyebrow arches. “I hope you won’t need air every time you talk to me.”
I blush. I didn’t realize I’m a blusher, but apparently the Prince brings out the worst in me.
“You’re not bad at all.”
The Prince’s eyes linger on mine. His tongue slides out to lick his lips, and my heart stutters. Raking his fingers through his hair, Prince Dante lets out a sigh.
Does he know how incredibly handsome he is? Every movement he makes is strong, purposeful, magnetic. Every look he gives me sends lava coursing through my veins. Every time I catch a whiff of his cologne, my heart skips a beat.
It doesn’t even look like he’s trying, but pretty soon I’m going to need a ‘Wet Floor’ sign whenever I’m around him.
The Prince clears his throat. “I hope you don’t mind, I spoke to Luca. Looks like I’ll be spending more time than anticipated here in Farcliff. There are…things…that worry us, and it’s best for me to stay here.”
“Beckett?” I ask as my heart sinks. Any reminder of the father of my child sends dread creeping into my heart.
Prince Dante’s shoulders fall. He nods. “You know about that?”
“I only know that he tried to hurt Luca—Prince Luca, I mean—but not much else.”
Prince Dante grins. “You can call him Luca. I do. You can call me Dante, too. If I’m living under your roof, I think it’s only fair we be comfortable with each other.”
My blush deepens. The thought of being comfortable with Prince Dante has crossed my mind more than once in the past hour.
Where did I put that ‘Wet Floor’ sign, again? Might as well get it ready.
“How long will you stay?” My voice squeaks, and I clear my throat to cover the noise.
“As long as I need to.”
There’s only a foot of space between us, and I desperately want to erase it. My fingers itch to feel the curve of his shoulders. To sink into the hard brawn of his muscle. To feel the heat of his skin under mine.
Swallowing the thoughts down, I force a smile. “I should go to bed. Please let me know if you need anything.”
The Prince nods, and I sidestep my way around his broad body, feeling his gaze on my back as I make my way up the stairs.
Turns out, I was right when I thought I wouldn’t sleep tonight, but I’m not reliving any mortifying incidents from the past ten years. I’m just replaying the sight of Prince Dante standing in my kitchen in nothing but a towel. When I close my eyes, I imagine how it would have felt to catch that adventurous drop of water with my tongue.
That thought alone keeps me awake most of the night.
When I get up, Luca and Ivy are already at the bakery. I retrieve my phone from the shelf in the living room, sighing when I see thirty-two missed calls from my publicist. As I stare at the screen, the phone flashes and her name appears. I press the green ‘answer’ button.
“Hi, Felicity.”
