Royally Endowed(58)

But if there was a baby, I would take care of her, give her whatever she needed, be all she needs.

There are abilities I’m skilled at—familiar with—fighting and fucking, battles and weapons, sensing danger, and knowing how to keep those in my care safe from harm.

But love . . . I’m ignorant of it. The word has never passed my lips, and the feeling is as alien to me as the sentiment.

What I do know, what I’m sure of, is that I would die for Ellie. Kill for her, live for her. The vow echoes through me with every beat of my heart. She is the most important person in my life. She has been from the beginning, and she always will be. There will never be another.

I don’t know if I’ll be any fucking good at love. I’m not quite sure how it’s done. But, for her, I’ll learn.

And I’ll do my damnedest to get it right.





We lie on our sides, resting but not spent, stroking each other, looking and smiling at one another. I used to think the phrase “gazing into each other’s eyes” was stupid. Fake. I mean, really, what man does shit like that?

Now, apparently . . . I fucking do.

And it’s not dumb or artificial at all. Because Ellie is mesmerizing. Her face is an ever-changing landscape of expressions—each one cuter, sexier, more enchanting than the last. Her lips have a thousand different smiles and her eyes sparkle and swirl with infinite shades of blue.

If I manage to die gazing at Ellie Hammond’s face, I’ll go out a happy man.

“When did you know? The very first time?” she asks.

I play with a strand of her hair, brushing its softness against my fingertip, thinking way back.

“It was at the museum, I think. When you flirted with me . . . and I thought, if this girl were a bit older, I’d be all over her.”

Her eyebrows reach for the sky. “That long? I never knew.”

“I didn’t want you to know. I thought if I pushed it away, ignored it for long enough, it’d go away.” I kiss her nose and whisper like a conspirator. “It didn’t.”

“Did you know that I liked you?”

I chuckle. “Aye. Your poker face is . . . well, you don’t have one.”

Ellie sticks out her tongue—that cute fucking tongue that’s teased me for years. I chase after her mouth and I suck on her tongue when I catch her, kiss her. Then, laughing, I say, “I figured it was just a crush. A girlish fancy that would fade when you grew up.”

Ellie leans over me and pecks my nose, whispering in the same secret tone, “It didn’t.”

“No.” I run my hand through the damp strands of her hair. Relieved—relieved and . . . wonderfully content.

“So what happens now?” she asks.

I open my mouth to answer, but there’s a knock at the door.

“Ellie? It’s me—are you up?”

It’s Olivia. The doorknob jiggles and thank fuck it’s locked, or this would’ve been an eye-opening visit for the Duchess. I tilt my head towards the toilet and Ellie nods.

A minute later, I hear their conversation through the door.

“Is everything okay?” Ellie asks.

“Yeah, I just . . . wanted to see you. I had a bad dream. Nicholas is still sleeping; I didn’t want to wake him—I had to make sure you’re okay.”

I hear Ellie move out into the hall, probably to embrace her sister. “I’m okay, Livvy. I’m so, so sorry. I won’t scare you like that again, I swear.”

“I love you, Ellie.”

“I love you too.”

Then her tone turns teasing. “And I love both of you . . . even if you turn out to be little Ernie and an Omen demon baby.”

Together, the sisters laugh.

When I hear Ellie close her bedroom door, I step back into the room.

“Coast is clear.” She grins, turning the lock.

I fall onto the bed, moving to the center, pushing a hand through my hair and watching her walk towards me.

“I have to tell Prince Nicholas,” I say on an exhale.

Ellie slips her robe off and joins me on the bed.

Pouting.

“You don’t want me to tell him?” I ask her.

She crawls over to me, her lovely arse in the air. “No, I understand the situation.”

The thing is, I don’t think she does. She doesn’t realize the complications—or the changes that will have to be made.

But I’m at peace with it—I’ll do what has to be done, as long as I get to keep her.

Ellie trails feather-light kisses along my ribs. “Maybe you could wait on thinking about Nicholas . . . until your semen isn’t still trickling out of my body?”

I choke out a laugh. “Fuck . . . the things that come out of your mouth.”

She smiles slyly and kisses lower—down my abdomen, around my navel—and lower still.