It’s one thing to fuck a woman so well that she never wants another man.
It’s another to know that her heart is yours and yours alone.
No one on earth will ever lay hands on her again. Except me.
Just as I belong to her, she belongs to me.
The only obstacle left is straightening things out with my father and Marcus. I can’t understand why they’re so adamant about sending her back to the United States. Marcus has had more than a few relationships with women from neighboring countries. It’s not as if there’s a precedent for only dating Saintland women, and I can hardly be blamed for the fact that Marcus is a daddy’s boy who will do anything he can to please my father, up to and including becoming involved with women who can bolster the Caldwell reign.
Well, Marcus will have to step aside on this one because I’m not backing down.
I’m also not going to let this situation get the best of me. With things between Jessica and me on such solid ground, I finally feel able to confront them without the fear of my anger bubbling over.
I step out of the shower feeling fresh and confident. In the walk-in closet, Phillip has already sorted out several outfit choices for the day. I roll my eyes. That man is almost too dedicated to his job. I choose a suit with a royal blue shirt and a neutral-colored tie. I won’t even antagonize my father by choosing a too-bold wardrobe. Not today.
Next step? Breakfast.
I order the full complement, and it arrives fifteen minutes later, piping hot on silver trays.
I linger over the food at the breakfast table, which is conveniently located in a nook with picture windows overlooking the garden.
Today I’m going to take my time.
I’ll go down to my father’s council chambers first thing so that we can clear the air and decide jointly on the best way to move forward.
No more shouting. No more accidental media sensations.
Then, I’ll go about fulfilling my schedule for the day. When those things are completed, I’ll be able to get back to Jessica and tell her what our immediate future holds. New confidence swells in my chest. Now that my mind is completely clear, I’ll be able to deal with Marcus and my father diplomatically and maturely, in a manner that guarantees my success.
Breakfast finished, I toss the napkin down onto the tray and stand up, brushing a few stray crumbs from my jacket.
I’m heading toward the door, shoulders back, chin up and feeling optimistic, when there’s a frantic knocking at the door.
My hand is almost touching the knob when it bursts open. It’s Phillip, white-faced, and he startles as he about plows into me.
“Your highness,” he gasps, putting a hand to his chest. “I’m so sorry—.”
“It’s all right,” I say, waving his apology away. “I’m off for a meeting with my father. When I come back, be ready to go over the day’s—.”
For the first time I can remember, Phillip interrupts me, his voice shaking.
“No, your highness. It’s not that. I’ve come—I’ve come to tell you—.”
I turn to face him, irritation rising in my chest. Could he possibly waste any more of my time? This level of calm and confidence isn’t guaranteed to last forever.
“Just tell me, Phillip,” I say, trying not to let my aggravation show as he gasps and sputters, his face still ashen. “Spit it out.”
“There won’t be appearances today,” he stammers, the words hitching in his throat. “Your highness, it’s your brother Marcus… He’s dead.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Jessica
Waking up in someone’s arms and knowing that he’s the man for you is the most satisfying feeling on earth…well, second only to the satisfying feeling from the wild things Alec and I spent all last night doing.
After we collapsed in exhaustion from our fucking delirious foray into ecstasy, I fell asleep in his arms, but not before we had talked for what seemed like hours. We talked about everything, all those little things that make up a person. Now I know his favorite candy is Daim, that he likes his movie popcorn buttered with extra salt, and once when he went fishing with his father and brother as a young child, he got his fishing hook caught in his brother’s ear. He laughed when he told me the story of the trip, but then his eyes saddened and he sighed.
“Those were the days when my brother and I used to get along with one another,” he reflected. “Marcus has been a complete ass since my father was crowned king.”
“Has he been king for a long time?”
“Eleven years now.”
I rolled over, pressing my back up against his front. “How does a person get to be king here in Saintland?”