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“Follow me.”
“I can’t, father. I’m going on holiday to New York City in a couple of hours, and I have to-”
“Now.”
My father, King Nicholas the III, didn't even look to make sure I was walking behind him down the hall. In addition, to being my parent, he is my monarch, and his word is literally law. So, naturally, I don’t have a choice.
I shuffle behind him, hands in the pockets of my designer jeans. I’d just gotten home after a night out. I’d spent hours in the club, and then afterward, I went home with a girl whose name I couldn’t quite recall. Amber? Ashley? I suppose it really didn’t matter. I won’t be seeing her again. When it came to women, I had a strict catch and release policy. She was the latest in a long line of one-night stands, and that’s just how I like it...
What can I say? I get bored.
After the conquest, why stick around? I never lie to them or promise them forever, and yet it is still easy for me to seduce women. They practically threw themselves into my arms. I might not be the future sovereign, but I’m a bloody prince, after all. I’m sure they all thought they would be different. One day, I’d make one of them my wife, but I had no intention of letting anyone control me.
The hallway was long and solemn. Portraits of my ancestors line the walls, grim-looking men and women who did their duty for God and country.
And I’m allergic to responsibility.
I knew exactly where we were going, too. The vault. Behind the steel door was a treasure trove of antiquities—priceless works of art, family heirlooms, and the crown jewels. My older brother, Thomas, would inherit all of this, along with all the crushing obligations.
I never envied him. Or wanted it for myself.
As far as I was concerned, I had the better deal. While I have wealth and power, I don’t have to any commitments. I’m free to enjoy myself on taxpayer’s dime.
The king clears his throat, staring at me with such crushing disappointment.
I wince.
My father is a stern man with graying blond hair, bright blue eyes, and an athletic build. People often remarked that we looked the same, but it was the only thing we had in common. My father prefers to spend time in his beloved library, surrounded by first-edition books, while I like a party. Father is cold and brooding, and I enjoy a good laugh. He puts the country before everyone and everything else.
And I am my number one priority.
He runs his fingertips over the crown, after he removed it from the glass case. It is hundreds of years old and only used for ceremonies. It is made of pure gold, encrusted with jewels, and I’d heard once that it is nearly eight pounds, which is an enormous weight to place upon your head. In more ways than one.
“You need to take your duties more seriously.” Father wasn’t looking at me now, as if he couldn’t stand the sight of me.
“I know.” I sigh. We’d had several variations of this same conversation for years. I always promised to do better, but somehow, I never did.
“I mean it this time, Benjamin.”
“I know, sir.”
“Your behavior is an embarrassment to not only our family, but our country.”
How can anyone be embarrassed? The world hardly knows Muravia exists. It’s a tiny European country with an antiquated monarchy. And it’s not like I’m doing something terrible.
“Yes, I’m a grown man who spends time at local pubs and goes home with pretty girls. The scandal!” I lift my chin, daring him to contradict me.
“What about your girlfriend? Elizabeth?”
“She’s not my girlfriend.” Actually, I didn’t know how to define my relationship with Elizabeth Winters. It was very casual. I had no delusions about her motive either. While Elizabeth was wealthy and privileged, she was also a commoner. She wanted a title and Elizabeth thought I was her ticket to getting one.
“She’s attended numerous functions with you.”
“Yes, Elizabeth is a convenient plus one.” She was photogenic, well-bred, and considered an appropriate marriage prospect. It kept marriage-minded women away from me.
“You need to grow up, Benjamin. Your brother is only two years older than you, but he’s far more mature.”
“I’m just blowing off a little steam. Everyone does.” I hated being compared to responsible, perfect Thomas, who always did what he was told.
Since I graduated from college, I’ve been a little adrift, perhaps. I hadn’t decided what to do with my life. Eventually, I would figure it out and settle down, but it would be years from now.
“I never acted like you.”
“You were going to be the next king. I’m not.” I’d seen the hell Thomas had been put through. He’d been by my father’s side since he was a boy, learning about the country, handling state affairs, training to be the monarch.
He folds his arms over his chest. “While you won’t be sitting on the throne, you still have obligations.”
“Charity events and garden parties? What’s the point?” Most of the time, I felt like a prop. I dressed up in my finest and smiled for the cameras at one event or another. It is so dull, it’s tedious even thinking about it.
“If you don’t find meaning in your duties, change them, Benjamin.” He never uses my nickname. Father is formal at all times. “Perhaps you should be searching for meaningful employment, instead of wasting your nights in the clubs.”
I open my mouth to defend myself, and then shrug. Why bother? He’s already made up his mind. I’ve been convicted and sentenced, without a chance to plead my case...
He huffs a breath. “I worry about you. You’re on the wrong path.”
“I’ll eventually get where I’m supposed to be.” At least, it’s what I always tell myself.
“Will you? I’m not so sure.”
“I'm sorry I'm such a disappointment,” I say bitterly. Thomas is the heir, and I’m the spare—the golden child, and the black sheep. I’m just playing my role, the one I’d been assigned at birth.
“You are.”
I flinch.
“But only because you have such potential, Benjamin.” His tone softened. Slightly. “I’d hate to see you squander it.”
I clear my throat, preparing to change the subject. “Have you seen Gran? I thought she was going to be at the palace today for tea.”
I wanted to say goodbye before I left for the States. The Dowager Queen was the only one of us, I could stand. She was getting on in years, and in the early stages of Alzheimer’s. Gran also had a heart condition, and I knew she wouldn’t be around much longer. I made it a point to spend time with her as often as possible. She’d always been kind to me, more of a mother than a grandmother.
“I believe she’s with her physician,” Father said. “He’s running some tests on her. Poor old dear.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Please give her my apologies and tell her I’ll bring her back a souvenir.”
“I will.” Father nodded. “Are you ready for your holiday?”
I’m going to America for an extended trip. I’m grateful to get out of Muravia, because I need to think and clear my head.
“More or less...” The servants had already packed my belongings and placed them on our private jet. I don’t know how people could fly commercial. I like being able to leave whenever I like.
He places his hands on my shoulders, squeezing them, and looks me in the eye. I can’t break his gaze.
“When you get home, I want to see a change in your attitude—a real one, this time. You won’t put me off with false promises and vague hopes. You have a duty to your family, your country, and its people. It’s high time you accepted your fate. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.” Although, I had no intention of keeping my word and we both knew it.
“Will you keep a low profile at least?” Father rolls his eyes heavenward, as though praying for salvation.
Not bloody likely. “I’ll do my best.”
“Whatever would the paparazzi do without you?” he asked dryly. “Selling your photos has probably put all their children through college.”
Let’s hope those shutterbugs never have to find out.
***
The club was packed.
I’d arrived in America the night before and slept off the jet lag in my hotel suite. Although, I barely remembered the flight over here. I’d had too much champagne on the jet, and I’d been hungover. Not to mention, I’d been sexting with a girl who gave me her number the other night. She hadn’t been the one I slept with, but I intended to remedy that when I got back from my trip. If I wasn’t bored with her by then.
But this evening, I’m raring to go. My security detail was gathered around the edges of the room, watching me, but not cramping my style. They saw to my safety, but they could be a real pain in the arse with all their protocols and procedures.
I had a unique opportunity. This isn’t an official visit, with photo ops, interviews, and press conferences. The press hadn’t been briefed on my arrival, and I won’t be meeting any dignitaries. This meant I could do whatever the hell I wanted while I was here, a rare opportunity.
And I intend to enjoy every single second of it.
That’s when a woman caught my eye. Her long brown hair fell to the small of her back. She danced in a group of girls, swaying her hips. She had dark, almond shaped eyes, fair skin. I put her age around 21 or 22. She’s beautiful in a natural way. The women I normally see wear a lot of makeup, expensive designer gowns, and never have a hair out of place. This girl seems free, a kindred spirit. Completely oblivious of the people watching her, she was moving with the music in a way that mesmerizes me.
For a long time, I simply watch her, drinking in the sight.
Just as I was about to approach, a guy came up behind her. He loops an arm around her waist and pulls her into his hips. For a second, I thought she was spoken for, but she slaps his hand away. It wasn't much use; the guy was twice her size, and he doesn’t take the hint.
Before I could intervene, she stomps on his foot, elbows him in the rib cage and steps away from him. The groper shakes his head, as though dazed. A bouncer, who must have witnessed the scene, grabs his shoulders and escorts him from the building.
The dark-haired beauty smiles, laughing quietly to herself. Her bravery is amazing and I can’t help but be in awe of how she handled the guy by herself. I know of grown men who would’ve been afraid of him.
Before anyone else can interrupt us, I walk over and offer her my hand.
“I was coming over here to rescue you, but you took care of it.”
She shakes my hand, and my fingers linger. “Yeah, I am not the damsel type.”
“No, you really aren't, and I mean that as a compliment.” I normally deal with the upper levels of society, women who never lifted a finger to help themselves. They had staff to run their errands, their households, to cater to every whim.
“Thank you.”
I realize I’m still holding her hand, and she hasn’t pulled free. Perhaps the attraction is mutual.
“Do you want to dance?” I ask.
“Sure, why not?”
I nod to the DJ and, thanks to the cash I gave him earlier, he starts a slow song. It is a move I’d picked up months ago. This way, I get to have her in my arms. Much more intimate. It’s step one of my seduction plan.
She narrows her eyes. “How did you do that?”
“A Jedi mind trick?” I pull her into my arms. She feels good this close to me. I have a strange thought. It’s as if she was made for me.
She laughs. “Oh, where are my manners? I’m Izzy Stewart.”
“Is that short for something?”
“Isabelle, but everyone calls me Izzy.”
“I’m not just anyone, Isabelle. Or everyone else.” The words simply pop out of mouth before I can hold them back. For some reason, I want her to know I’m different. Special. Again, this is new territory. I’m usually easygoing, charming women into my bed without much fuss.
“And what is your name?”
She doesn’t know? I blink, momentarily stunned. Somehow, Isabelle doesn’t recognize me. I suppose I shouldn’t be that shocked. After all, the Muravian Royal family isn’t as famous or infamous, as our British counterparts. And, suddenly, I’ve felt freer than I ever have before. She didn’t know me, didn’t want anything from me. As far as Isabelle knew, I was just a guy in the bar.
“I'm Ben.”
“Ben what?” she asks.
“Just Ben.” A fun fact about royalty. I don’t have a last name. Instead, I have three middle names and titles.
She grins. “Pleasure to meet you, Just Ben.”
“Likewise.”
One of my bodyguards, approaches, but I shake my head, glaring at him. I didn't want any interruptions. This game would be over as soon as one of them called me Your Highness.
“What's with the entourage? Are you famous or something?” She nods to the big burly men in black suits. They stick out like a row of sore thumbs in the throng of half-naked people surrounding us.
“Maybe.”
“Is that a yes or a no?”
“Guess.” I grin, teasing. I’ve learned to never be too forthcoming with women, making them work for it. They like the banter, the seduction and the temptation.
Isabelle cocks her head to one side, considering me. “Are you an actor?”
“Something like that.” That’s not far from the truth. I’ve been acting the part of a prince my whole life. In fact, it was a full-time job.
“You’re trying to be mysterious.” Isabelle narrows her eyes at me.
“Am I succeeding?”
“Yes. Come on, tell me.”
“Not yet.”
Her lips settle into an adorable pout and I want to kiss her so badly, I can hardly stand it. So, I give in. I lean forward and capture her mouth, one hand on either side of her head, holding her still for my kiss. She sways closer, with a little moan.
When I pull back, her eyes are closed, and she slowly opens them. Her pupils are dilated. There’s a flush on Isabelle’s cheeks. Oh, she’s definitely into me. In a couple of hours, she’s going to be in my bed. I can feel it.
I can take or leave women, but Isabelle intrigues me. The magic will probably wear off once I sleep with her, but I’ll enjoy it while it lasts. The DJ starts another fast song, but I want to get to know her better, slip into the next stage of this seduction.
“Come on, come with me.” I take Isabelle by the hand and escort her into a darkened corner at a table near the back of the club. It’s secluded, and my bodyguards form a horseshoe around us, their backs to us, as they survey the room.
“Would you like a drink?” I ask.
“Yes. White wine, please.”
I nod to one of the guards who walks over. I order wine and a scotch and soda for myself. One of the perks of being royalty is, I never have to carry a wallet and I have a team who takes care of things for me. When he returns with our drinks, I raise my glass.
“What should we drink to?” I ask.
“To new beginnings?” she offers.
We clink our glasses together and I watch her carefully, gauging Isabelle’s reactions. She’s relaxing a bit, getting comfortable with me. Excellent.
“Talk to me. I want to know everything about you.”
She glances at my security guards doubtfully. I’m used to this amount of people surrounding me. I imagine it must be strange for her. What would it be like to have that kind of freedom? To go someplace all by yourself whenever you wanted?
“Don’t worry about them. They’re paid very well to pay selective attention to their surroundings.”
Lord knows, they've seen and heard all kinds of things around me. They all signed non-disclosure agreements, so they are discreet. I can only imagine what would happen if they sold their stories to the paparazzi. And my father was worried about my current press clippings! If he only knew the full story!
She shrugs. “It’s just a little weird.”
“I’m sure, but don’t leave me hanging. Tell me something. Anything.”
She bites her lip for a minute, considering the question. “Well, I just graduated from college with a degree in psychology and a mountain of student loan debt.”
I wince. I’d gone to Cambridge and my schooling had been paid for. Starting your life with a pile of student debt must be awful. Funny. I don't usually think about the privileges I enjoy.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I knew what I was getting into.” She squeezes my hand and I don’t let go. Touching her feels so right. “I’m excited about my future. I’ve been applying to jobs, and I’ve gone on a couple of interviews, but I haven’t found the right one yet.”
“I’m sure you’ll find something perfect. Who wouldn’t want to hire you? From what I can tell, you’re smart, capable, friendly.”
“Thank you.”
I move in to kiss her again and she melts against me, wrapping her arms around my neck. I trail a hand up her inner thigh and she doesn’t protest. When I pull back, we are both breathing heavily. I’m hard and swollen in my jeans, I could barely think straight. I need to get her back to my hotel, now.
I’m about to ask her back to my hotel, but I couldn’t find the right words. This is an important moment and I don’t want to screw it up.
“I know this is kind of fast, but would you like to come back to my place?” She looks at me under her lashes.
“Oh, Isabelle, I thought you’d never ask.”