Royal Rock:A Bad Boy Royal Romance(7)

"I'll be some foreign queen brought in to make the king look better."

"You'll have a comfortable life. Your children will be royalty."

"And what will I be?" I asked her, turning away. "I'll be nothing."

"Don't talk that way," Lucy said. "Do you know how many people would give anything for this opportunity?"

"They can have it," I said. "I'm not interested."

"Stay and hear them out. Get to know the king. Who knows, maybe you'll like him."

"I won't. He's an arrogant ass. I want to get out of here."

"Too bad," she said.

I turned back to her and gaped. "What?"

"I said, too bad. Your father and I already decided that we're staying and seeing this through."

I didn't bother saying a word to her. I simply walked past her, out the  door, and down to their room. I knocked until my father opened up and  let me inside.

Their place was as lavish as mine was, but I didn't take the time to really pay much attention to the details.

"Tell me it isn't true," I said to him.

He frowned. "I take it Lucy told you about the marriage thing."







"Dad, how could you?"

"Hold on now. I'm not actually marrying you off or anything like that. All I said was we'd see what you thought."

"Lucy tells me we're staying."

He sighed. "Well, part of the deal is we have to stay for these two  weeks before you can decide. If we leave now, you lose your chance  forever."

"So then I lose it."

He shook his head. "No. You're staying."

"What?"

"Listen to me, Bryce. Maybe you don't want this after two weeks, and  that's fine. We'll leave. But this is an incredible opportunity for  you."

"How can you say that?"

"Because it's true." He sighed, taking off his tie. "I want what's best for you."

"What's best for me is leaving."

"I think you're wrong."

I turned and stormed out of the room. Lucy was in the hallway and tried  to speak, but I glared at her. She was smart enough to shut her mouth. I  unlocked my room's door with my palm print and then slammed it behind  me.

I threw myself onto the bed, not sure if I wanted to scream or to cry.

Here I was, stuck in a foreign country, and the king wanted to make me  his bride. Maybe that didn't sound so bad, but to me it was like a death  sentence.

I wanted to be a nurse. I wanted to work with people, to help them. I  wanted to be my own person, not some figurehead queen that only needed  to pump out babies for his royal asshole.

And everyone knew it but me.

As I went to settle into my bed, I heard another knock at my door.  Wondering when the hell this night was going to end, I got up and  angrily pulled the door open.

Nobody was there. Alone on the ground was a box wrapped like a present. I looked up and down the hall, but nobody was there.

Curious, I picked it up and carried it inside. I sat down on the couch  and slowly unwrapped the box. The paper was thick and expensive, and the  ribbon was beautiful and soft.

Inside was a plain white box. I slowly lifted off the lid and sifted through the white tissue paper.

I bit my lip at what I saw. Sitting in the box was a pair of boxing gloves and a pair of black lace panties.

That asshole. He thought this was so funny. I nearly threw the box  across the room, but there was a card at the bottom. I grabbed it and  turned it over, reading it.

"Bryce, sorry if I shocked you. Here's a little token of my friendship. Trip."

I was angry, I was humiliated, and I was strangely excited.

I didn't understand it. I was angry and wanted to leave, but I also  couldn't stop thinking about Trip and his cocky smile. I wondered if he  had picked the panties out himself, and if he had pictured me wearing  them when he put them in the box. Whether I wanted to admit it or not,  he was handsome as hell, by far the best-looking man I'd ever met.

But that wasn't enough. Funny gift or not, I wasn't going to be some  breeding cow for him. Maybe I was stuck for two weeks, but that didn't  matter.

The king was never going to have me.





TRIP





I held the paper loosely in my hands, a smile on my lips. I couldn't help but love the headline.

"FIERY FOREIGNER SMACKS KING!"

The photograph was of Bryce in the act of slapping me in the face for my  original comment. The article went on to detail how a sumptuous  foreigner had slapped the King, seemingly unprovoked. They speculated on  some possible reasons and actually weren't so far off when they  suggested I had whispered an insult in her ear.

It hadn't been an insult. More like a promise, if anything.

As I tossed the paper aside and sipped my morning coffee, I wondered how  Bryce had reacted to the present I had sent to her room. The boxing  gloves were antique, but the panties were brand new, chosen specifically  for her. My cock had been hard as hell as I'd put them in the box,  picturing her perfect ass wearing nothing but them.

"Your Highness."

I looked up from my breakfast. Max was standing by the door. I didn't  bother trying to correct him about my name, since I knew he wasn't going  to listen no matter how many times I commanded him to call me Trip.

"What's up, Max?"

"You have a cabinet meeting at ten and a meeting with Lynette at eleven."

"Cancel them."

"Sir, they're important meetings."

"Clear my morning, Max. I have more pressing matters to attend to."

He sighed. "The girl, I assume."

"That's right. I have two weeks to make her my queen."

"Is that wise, Your Majesty?"

"I don't know. Since when did I worry about what's wise and what isn't?"







"Since you became king."

"Fair point, but there's something about her."

"The people are impressed."

"Yeah, well, Starkish people would love a woman who slaps their king, especially since he isn't the king they really wanted."

"They will come around. Give the people time."

I shrugged, sipping my coffee. "Doesn't matter. I'm what they fucking have, right?"

"Of course, Your Majesty."

"Besides, Bryce might be good for Starkland. Get an outside perspective."

"Is that what you need?"

"Possibly. I never know what I need until I have it."

Max nodded. "Sir, might I speak freely?"

"This isn't the military, Max. Say what you want."

"I'm worried about this girl. She doesn't seem very fond of you."

"No, she doesn't."

"Maybe it would be better to marry a Starkish woman. One who actually cares about you?"

"You might be right, Max."

"But I take it from your tone that you don't agree."

I leaned back in my chair, shaking my head and smiling. "Listen, Max,  ever since I took the throne, this whole damn job has been one crisis  after the next. It's the rebels, it's my successor, it's the economy.  This is the first thing I've been excited about."

"You haven't been king long, Your Highness. And nobody said ruling was easy or fun."

"You're very right, Max, which is why maybe finding my queen should be those things."

He sighed. "Very well. I see your point."

"Clear my morning."

"As you wish."

I stood up, grinning at him. "I have important business to attend to."

He sighed, shook his head, and left my room.



I WALKED down the halls shadowed by my usual guard detail.

"Al," I called out. He stepped up next to me.

"Yes, Your Highness?"

"What do you think of our guest?"

"Which guest, sir?"

"The girl. Bryce."

"She seems nice, sir."

I laughed. "You wouldn't say otherwise, though, would you?"

"I would be honest with my king."

"Of course." I laughed again. "And what do the people think of her?"

"I've heard mixed opinions." He cleared his throat. "Men seem to respect her. Women seemed to be jealous of her."

"Good. I can work with that." I dismissed him with a wave as we approached her door.

I took a deep breath. I couldn't help but imagine her answering the door  wearing nothing but the boxing gloves and the panties. I knocked once,  hoping she would, and hoping the guards had enough sense to stand back.

She opened after a second. I felt a little disappointed to note that she  was wearing a pair of tight black jeans and a gray hooded sweatshirt.

"Your Majesty," she said, although it sounded sarcastic.

"Good morning, Bryce," I said.

"What can I do for you?"

"I'd like to give you that tour."

She sighed. "Do I have much choice?"

"You always have a choice. You can sit here in your room all day, bored,  or you can come spend the morning with the most interesting king in the  world."

She cracked a smile, but it was quickly gone. "Okay, fine. Let me get my shoes on."

She walked back into her room and went over to her shoes.

"I'll show you the throne room first," I said.

"Throne room? You actually have a throne?"

"Of course. We don't really use it anymore, though. Turns out a King sitting on a throne doesn't really play that well anymore."