Loving the Crown Read online

  Loving the Crown

  Violet Paige

  Head Over Heels Press

  Contents

  You should receive a copy of Loving the Crown. If you have received this copy, please contact Amazon.

  1. Liam

  2. Gillian

  3. Liam

  4. Gillian

  5. Liam

  6. Gillian

  7. Liam

  8. Gillian

  9. Liam

  10. Gillian

  11. Liam

  12. Gillian

  13. Liam

  14. Gillian

  15. Liam

  16. Gillian

  You should receive a copy of Loving the Crown. If you have received this copy, please contact Amazon.

  Copyright © 2018 by Violet Paige

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Chapter One

  Liam

  The whistle was loud and shrill. I looked toward the flag and saluted. My chin lifted in respect. My eyes emotionless. My family crest billowed in the wind. Standing in formation with the other men in the Royal Navy, I blended in. It was doubtful anyone would point to my row and call out the Prince of Galona. No one would shout out the irony of saluting the Marquis colors. No one would laugh at the twisted humor on display. I was camouflaged in my uniform.

  The commander gave the final salute and we disbursed, scattering in all directions on the ship.

  In an instant, I was no longer one of the guys. Royal agents waited for me at the bottom of the gangplank.

  “Your Highness.” They nodded.

  I considered pivoting back to the ship and requesting the commander add my name to the next deployment. I knew something was fucking wrong with me, if I’d rather go to war than to the palace. Maybe it was the beast inside me. The bear who was always fighting against the humanity.

  “Sir, we need to move quickly,” the lead agent whispered. “This way.”

  I had barely stepped two feet outside the gate. Once a month I reported to the base to fulfill my obligation to the Navy. It was a tradition my brothers and I followed after my father. Somehow, our sister skated away without even having to join the Women’s Brigade.

  “What is it?” I groaned. One weekend a month wasn’t enough of an escape.

  “The car is over there, Your Highness.” He nodded to black vehicle with tinted windows next to the boardwalk.

  I shook my head. “I’m taking a walk before I head back to the palace,” I explained.

  The men I had trained with over the weekend walked past briskly. On this side of the ship, I was no longer one of them. It fucking pissed me off. What did I expect? We lived in a monarchy-ruled country with a council that only had a partial say in the government.

  On this side of the water we didn’t run in the same circles. We didn’t drink the same liquor. We didn’t fuck the same women. Our lives were night and day.

  It wasn’t like we could go to a pub for a few rounds. I’d be flanked by agents. They’d have questions about the palace. They’d get drunk and ask about my sister. Undoubtedly some douche would make a comment about one of my brothers. No. On this side, a line was drawn. I was royal and they were commoners.

  I watched as some of them paired off with wives or girlfriends. They had lives on this side.

  Mine was staring me in the face and she wasn’t a pretty blonde. Mine was two irritated agents waiting for me to follow royal protocol.

  “Sir, the king is out of town. You’re needed at the palace.”

  “I know where my brother is.” He was in London with his wife for the next week.

  “Then you know you’re needed in his absence.”

  I shrugged. “If you could wait for my service to end then I believe you can wait as long as I need.”

  The taller thinner man, Charles, cleared his throat. “We have orders.”

  “We all do, don’t we? Unless Galona is under a nuclear threat, thirty minutes won’t make a difference. Are we under nuclear threat?”

  They stared at the sidewalk. “No, Your Highness.”

  “Of course not. I’m sure my brother is already aware of whatever the problem is. I’ll be headed this way.” I pointed to the courtyard across the street. There was a park before arbor of trees opened into another town square.

  It was the oldest part of Freychon. The cathedrals had stood for hundreds of years. But on a Sunday, just before the sun disappeared behind the country’s great landmarks, it was quiet. There was an eerie silence that fell between the massive stone pillars and the cobblestone pavement.

  It was the kind of quiet I needed before rushing back to the palace. Before being thrown into whatever crisis was waiting for me. It calmed my bear. Every once in a while, he needed a reminder that life wasn’t always hectic and fast-paced. Every second didn’t have to be filled with crisis and war.

  I jogged across the asphalt. If the security agents wanted to tail me, that was their decision. I wasn’t going back. Not yet. I fucking dared them to try to force me into the car.

  Chapter Two

  Gillian

  “This is only going to work if you run full sprint through the corridor. We have exactly ten minutes to capture this before I lose the light I want for the shoot. The sunset is gorgeous. I wish you could see what I see through the lens. This is truly an epic shoot. Nothing like it.”

  I nodded. “I’ve got this. Run with the stake, pass the columns, and jump into the fountain. Before we lose the sun,” I added.

  Lance Franks nodded. His sandy blond hair shook around his ears. He had directed the last five episodes. He was new to the show, and this was the first time we had traveled to a foreign location. But he swore, we needed gothic European beauty for this scene.

  Now that we were here, I believed him. Freychon was gorgeous. We’d be in town two days and I was already in love with the city. I couldn’t get over how beautiful everything was. Not that I didn’t love our studio in Atlanta, but there was something magical about this city.

  I hadn’t really wrapped my head around the fact that we were traveling for the show now. Using the backwoods of Georgia wasn’t an option for Lance. He was a purist. A true artist.

  With a more influential director came a bigger budget and more creative leeway from the studio. Our viewership had started with a small cult falling, and a year later we were the highest-rated show on television.

  “Ready, G?” he asked, squaring a glimpse of the setting sun between his hands.

  “Ready. Let’s do it.” I smiled.

  I clutched the wooden stake in my hand, twisting my head to see my co-star behind me.

  Tom grinned, showing his pointy teeth. He was the kind of actor who kept them in longer than necessary. He was method through and through. “You have to fun faster than me, Gennie.” He winked.

  I’d been working with a new trainer for months. I was pretty sure I could kick Tom’s ass, no matter how many rippled muscles he had. In this scene, my job was to outrun him and his fangs. I had to save the ass-kicking for tomorrow when we tumbled in an ancient tomb under the church.

  The stunts were low-key enough I could do them myself, but I prepared myself physically. It was grueling and exhausting.

  “Action,” Lance called.

  As soon as he said the word I pushed off the pavement and began to run. I sprinted with graceful steps, outrunning the vampire on my high leather boot’s heels. My wardrobe was tight leather, while Tom looked like he had hopped out of an Abercrombie spread.

  Tom screamed for me to
stop. I turned, feeling the adrenaline rush of the scene. He kept to the shadowed side of the corridor, while I focused on running in the light. It was part of the vampire lore. My character was trying to lure him into the sun, while at the same time he was trying to drag me back to the shadows.

  The first time I had read the scene in Atlanta, I had fallen in love with it. The imagery. The light and dark symbolism. The sequence where I had to fight for my freedom. It was the perfect scene for the season finale. Perfect.

  I only had a few more feet to run before I turned the corner and landed in the center of the fountain. I hurled myself forward, knowing Tom was within inches of catching me.

  But as I rounded the stone building, the sun blinded me. The rays were over the roof, piercing my eyes. I squinted as the tears streamed down my face. Shit. I couldn’t see anything.

  I kept running, hoping I could pull this off. We were losing the red and gold hues. I pushed forward. I had seen the fountain, so I knew there wasn’t far to go. I prayed I’d see it again if I could just adjust to the sun.

  I launched my body, but immediately regretted it.

  “Ouch,” I cried as I hit a solid wall of muscle. Instead of landing in the center of the fountain with a magical stake, I toppled into it taking a passerby with me. Shit. The scene was ruined.

  My shoulder ached and my hair was drenched. What was left of my eye makeup ran down my cheeks.

  “Fuck. What the hell?” the deep voice groaned underneath me.

  I sputtered as the fountain water went up my nose, burning in places that felt horrible.

  “Oh my God,” I moaned. I wasn’t sure if I had broken something or not. There was a slow burn in the upper part of my arm.

  “Gennie, what happened?” Tom asked from the side of the fountain.

  “Yeah, Gennie,” the stranger echoed.

  I rubbed my eyes, making it harder to focus, but I caught a glimpse of sapphire blue eyes and dark wet hair.

  I felt Tom’s arms circle me as he pulled me from the fountain and onto the cobblestones. Lance ran over, mixing swearing with concern. “Fuck, are you ok? Fucking shit. We’re done for the day. But how are you, G? Fuck me.”

  I rubbed my arm. I hadn’t gotten my bearings. How had everything gone so wrong? I was running through the beautiful light and now I was a damaged drowned rat.

  I spun as the man in a military uniform climbed from the fountain, stepping one drenched shoe and then another on the dry side of the ledge. He shook his hair, letting the water splay like he was some kind of sex god surfacing from the ocean. And holy hell. He might have been.

  I tried not to gawk. I tried to keep my expression unreadable. I was used to actors. Tom was more popular than I was. Girls giggled every time he walked by, but he was nothing compared to the man I had tackled into the fountain.

  “Your highness. Sir.” Two men rushed into the middle of our circle. “Are you all right? We need to call an ambi.”

  I blinked. Did they say what I think they just said?

  “I don’t need an ambi, but maybe she does.” He pointed to my arm.

  Within seconds the men pulled out phones and called for an ambulance. I was still learning the Galonian slang.

  “Someone should take a look at that.” It was as if the seas parted for him when he walked toward me. The crew backed out of the way, including Lance and Tom.

  I blushed. “I think it’s ok.”

  “Can you wiggle your fingers?” he asked.

  I winced through the pain. “Sort of?”

  “That’s it. I’m taking you myself.”

  “Oh no, no, no,” I protested.

  “It will be twenty minutes before an ambi is here. Charles, get the car. We’re taking Miss—”

  “You are not going to take Gillian Sparks anywhere.” Tom must have found his balls. “Who the hell are you, anyway?”

  “Tom,” I spoke through clenched teeth. “Shut up.”

  “We don’t know this guy. He could be a set stalker.”

  “Set stalker?”

  “Tom, he’s not a set stalker. Calm down for a second. We all need to calm down.”

  Lance paced in a circle behind us. He mumbled something about trying to recreate the shoot tomorrow after the fight scene. He had already moved on from the current crisis. I realized that was a casualty of working with a creative genius. He didn’t spend much time in reality.

  “Your highness, Charles is pulling up with the car now.”

  I swallowed. I heard the words, but I still hadn’t processed them. This man was no Vampire Heart super fan. He was royal.

  Chapter Three

  Liam

  I’d already forgotten about the royal emergency. What happened in the square was more important than anything the crown needed. When I looked into her eyes, I knew. I fucking knew something I’d never known before.

  The woman meant for me, and me alone.

  These idiots weren’t going to take care of her. I was.

  “Ms. Sparks?” I held my hand toward her. “Your car is here.”

  We were both soaking wet. She was fucking gorgeous. Her cheeks glowed and her lips were wine red. I had to fight the urge to reach for her and take her in my arms.

  She looked at the crew around her before stepping forward. “Maybe you should tell me who you are before I get in a car with you.”

  “Don’t insult His Highness like that,” Romero barked.

  Her eyes widened. “I see. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s all right. They get paid to say that.” I grinned. “Shall we?” I led her to the car. Charles and Romero were on either side. There was a new energy surging inside me.

  Maybe they were too dumbfounded to speak. I had seen it happen before, but no one on the set followed us, or even asked which hospital we were headed toward.

  I made sure Gillian was in the car safely, before walking to the other side. It was hard to slide with wet clothes. I had a bag in the trunk. I could change at the hospital, once her arm was attended.

  “Sir, we still have the other matter at the palace.” Charles turned from the front seat to remind me.

  I immediately raised the glass barrier between the seats. This was my priority now.

  “Do you want something for the pain before we arrive?” I pulled a bottle of bourbon from the travel bar.

  She shook her auburn head. The water droplets slid down her neck. I followed one all the way between her breasts. “No. I think I should wait and see what the doctor says. Thank you, though.”

  She clutched her arm higher.

  “Here.” I pulled my jacket from my arms. “This might help some.” I wrapped it against her arm and tied the sleeves together, applying pressure to where she was hurt. I let go to see if it would hold. “Any better?”

  She nodded. “Thanks.”

  “I take it you’re an actress?” I asked.

  “That obvious?”

  I shrugged. “The cameras gave it away.”

  She laughed. “And I take it you’re in the royal family?”

  “You noticed that?”

  She bit her lip playfully. “The Your Highness gave it away.”

  I chuckled. “What are you filming?”

  She settled into the seat as we approached a red light. “It’s the season finale for Vampire Heart. But you can’t tell anyone.” She tilted her chin toward me.

  “Should I lie and tell you I know what that is?”

  Her mouth dropped open. “You’ve never heard of the show? I guess that’s actually refreshing. I rarely go anywhere without someone wanting a selfie.”

  “I don’t watch much TV to be honest. Occupational issue.”

  “And your occupation is?”

  The scratchy military-issue T-shirt clung to my skin. I peeled it over my head despite the gasp from Gillian.

  “I can’t remember the last time I sat this close to someone who didn’t know I was Prince Liam of the House of Marquis.”

  “A prince? Really?”


  I pressed my lips together. “Afraid so.” I withheld the apart about how we were destined to spend our lives together. She wasn’t in any kind of shape to hear that information right now.

  She grimaced. Her pretty eyes closed.

  “You don’t like princes?”

  She shook her head. “No. Sorry, just my entire shoulder feels like it’s on fire. I think it’s getting worse.”

  “We’re almost there. It’s only a few blocks around the corner. I’ll make sure you see the family doctor.”

  “Family doctor?” She held her breath.

  “The royal medical team is the best in the country.”

  “At this point I’d see a medicine man. I just want to know what I did to my arm. It has to be better by tomorrow. Now we have to re-shoot the fountain scene, and I have a fight scene at the cathedral.”

  “They have been known to work miracles, but you’re probably going to have to take a few days off.”

  “No. I can’t do that. We can’t afford to delay the last day. The amount of work that has gone into this—I can’t even begin to explain to you what it takes. The finale is set in stone.”

  “Nothing is set in stone.”

  We pulled up to the curb.

  “I need a shirt before we go inside,” I explained.

  Gillian cleared her throat. “You don’t have to go in. I can take it from here. Really. I’m sure I’ll be fine. I appreciate the ride.”

  “I’m going in.” There was no way I would leave the mate I had just found.

  I reached through the cubby hole in the back of the seat, searching for my bag. I gripped the tag on the zipper and pulled it closer. My hand landed on one of my weekend T-shirts with the Royal Navy crest. I’d change my pants inside. I wasn’t going to walk the hospital with soaked trousers.