Loving the Crown Page 3

  She looked at the guards and then me. “I guess I can let Lance know where I am.”

  I put an arm around her. “Wise choice, love. Let’s get you home.”

  Chapter Six

  Gillian

  I was shuttled out of the hospital and into the prince’s black car before I realized what I had agreed to for the night. I was too exhausted to argue anymore. He was persuasive. He was convincing. It was hard to ignore that beneath his line of reasoning, there was truth about what he said about the crew. Why wasn’t anyone here? Where was Tom? Why hadn’t Lance called? I didn’t have a single text on my phone from anyone on the set. Not a single cast member had checked in with me.

  I settled into the cool leather seats as we drove away from the hospital. I let a long breath escape through my lips. It wasn’t until the hospital was in the distance that I realized how tense I had been. Every muscle in my body was rigid and stiff. I never believed I would be able to escape the MRI. It seemed to be looming around every instruction from the nurse. I never fully trusted that she wasn’t going to lead me into one of the rooms instead of into the X-ray bay. I held my breath every time Dr. Fines walked in the room. I looked at Liam next to me. He was the only reason it never happened.

  He was the kind of man who would have loved it if I said he was my knight in shining armor. I wasn’t about to go there. I wasn’t willing to give him that small triumph—not yet.

  I looked at my phone again. It was still black. I kept the sigh inside.

  “How long have you been in Freychon?” he asked.

  “A few days. We had two days to adjust to the time difference before we began filming.”

  He nodded. “Are you from L.A.?”

  I shook my head. “No. Our studio is in Atlanta, Georgia.”

  He scowled. “I’m familiar with the U.S. states.”

  “Sorry. I’m originally from Dallas. I won’t give you the state.”

  He chuckled. “Thanks.”

  The car slowed as we climbed a hill and wound upward. It was hard not to feel as if we were driving toward the clouds, although I knew the palace sat on a wide plateau of land below the highest peaks. I had seen it from my hotel room.

  Monstrous gates opened and we rolled onto the royal grounds. I held my breath, aware of how surreal everything was around me.

  The car stopped abruptly.

  “We’re here.” Liam smiled.

  The door opened and I was offered a hand. Liam walked up behind me, carrying his bag full of wet clothes. I hadn’t decided if he looked sexier in his wet military uniform or in the tight T-shirt. It was hard not to notice how wide his shoulders were as the fabric stretched across his taut muscles.

  We had barely made it inside the grand foyer when an older gentleman pushed his way forward.

  “Your Highness.” He spoke between clenched teeth. His mustache twitched. “There is a state matter that needs your attention.” His eyes landed on me.

  “Wallace, this is my guest. Miss Gillian Sparks,” Liam answered.

  I could tell he wanted to ignore me, but the prince had put him on the spot.

  “Miss Sparks.” He bowed his head slightly.

  “Gillian, Wallace. Royal manager for the House of Marquis.”

  “Nice to meet you.” I smiled.

  “Sir,” Wallace urged. “I’m requesting your audience immediately. I’m sure Miss Sparks understands the severity and importance of your obligations to the country. It’s a timely manner—it has been since your weekend duties ended.”

  I looked between them. It sounded intense. “Of course. Just point me to the kitchen and I’ll find the ice for my arm,” I offered. I didn’t need any more fuss, especially if it was going to cause trouble.

  Liam chuckled. “I have a staff for that. I’ll make sure you’re settled before I go anywhere.”

  “But, sir—”

  Liam shot him an icy stare. “I’ll return when I’m available, Wallace.”

  The man folded his hands behind his back and took a step away from us. I knew I had caused a problem, and I had no way to undo it.

  I whispered to the prince as we walked along the marble corridor. “You should go with him. I’m fine.”

  “You’re my guest. Wallace can wait,” he replied.

  “Is this normal for how you handle state problems?”

  He pushed the lever on an elevator at the end of the long hallway. “It’s normal for how Wallace handles them. I’m third in line to the throne. This seldom falls on me.”

  “Then shouldn’t you take it more seriously?” The elevator doors slid closed as we stepped into the car.

  I could tell from the way he looked at me, I had overstepped a boundary

  “No,” he snapped.

  There was a gentle ding and the doors retracted. We walked into a beautifully lavish set of apartments.

  “This is where I live,” he explained. “You’re in my wing of the palace.”

  “Your wing?” I was astounded by the art and the furniture surrounding us. I’d been in a lot of guys’ bachelor pads and nothing looked like this.

  “My brothers, sister, and I each have our own set of apartments inside the walls. Although, my brother Corbin is in the States for a while. He commutes back and forth for business when it suits him. And by that I mean he’s rarely here.”

  “And the king?” I prodded.

  “In London right now with the queen. They travel most of the time.”

  “So you do have to step in often?”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Occasionally.”

  “I don’t want to keep you. You should go save the country instead of American actresses.” I smiled. “Just show me the way to your freezer and an ice pack.”

  “You act like I can dump you off here and walk back downstairs.”

  I felt the tingles start along my collarbone and travel to my breasts. The sound of his voice heated my chest. It was distracting enough to make me forget about the pain in my arm.

  “Of course you can,” I whispered.

  He stepped closer and it was as if the light in the room was blocked out from his massive frame. I couldn’t see anything but him. His eyes. His arms. The athletic movement of his body. I swallowed, looking into his gaze.

  He reached forward. His palm rose toward me in slow motion. Or was it just that everything had suddenly switched into a different gear? As if we were in some kind of secret room and we were the only two who could see inside.

  I didn’t know how it had happened, or if it was reversible, but I fell into the space. I lounged in the heat the nearness of our bodies created.

  Liam grazed the line of my cheek. He touched my lip before his mouth crashed against mine with the kind of intensity I’d only pretended existed. But this wasn’t a scene. This wasn’t for the cameras. It was real, and passionate. Our mouths moved hungrily as our tongues twined in rhythm.

  I gasped for breath. I wanted more. I needed it. I slung my good arm around his neck and brought him closer. Deeper.

  His hands pressed into my lower back, urging me to sink into his body. I couldn’t resist. I didn’t want to. It was a kiss unlike anything I’d ever felt. The room spun. My heart hammered.

  Liam growled lowly. His chest vibrated, and I gulped for air. I looked in his eyes for an explanation. For a reason that we kissed like that.

  He grinned. “I do have to go downstairs for a few minutes. But I wanted you to know I don’t want to go.”

  My cheeks were heated all the way to my ears. “Really. I understand.”

  “I won’t be long.”

  I nodded. “I’m fine here. I’m in a castle.” I giggled.

  “Before I go, let me get that ice for you. And I’ll send Rae in to make dinner for you. How does that sound?”

  “I had forgotten about food. I’m starving. It sounds amazing.” My stomach rumbled.

  “And you need clothes. You can’t stay in hospital PJs all night.” He winked.

  Oh shit. My c
ore twitched. I didn’t want to read between the words, but I did. If that kiss was any indication of what the prince had planned when he returned from the royal crisis, I wouldn’t be wearing anything. I bit my lip—and neither would he.

  Five minutes later, I was propped on the couch with the remote, an ice pack, and Liam’s personal chef was in the kitchen preparing my dinner. The elevator closed and the prince was gone.

  Chapter Seven

  Liam

  If I could have Wallace strangled before I made it downstairs, I would. He could fuck off. But Alaric wasn’t here, neither was Corbin, and this was my Galona while they were away. Whatever the crisis was, I had to own it. Solve it.

  This wasn’t something a bear shifter solved with brute strength. I had to dig deep and be a prince.

  My private elevator carried me to lower corridor and I walked the halls, searching for the biggest pain in my ass.

  There had been a wave of change in the palace since my brothers had married. They had turned royal protocol on its head when they choose their wives. Wallace wasn’t taking the changes well. He wouldn’t like it when he found out Gillian was an actress. In his book, royals were meant for royals. There were other who prescribed to his old-school mentality, but my brothers and I were setting our own rules. Paving our own way.

  As I opened the door to the library, I dared the old man to say anything to me about Gillian. I wanted her here. She would stay as long as I wanted her to stay in my apartments.

  “Your highness.” Wallace rose from the long table.

  “Let’s get this over with.” I huffed, meeting him head-on. “I have something more pressing waiting for me upstairs.” I fell into the hard wooden chair. It was hundreds of years old. Probably one my father had used for meetings such as these.

  “You’re referring to the American?”

  My eyebrows rose. How did he already know about her? Was her accent enough to give her away?

  “Call it a diplomatic mission.” I didn’t want to discuss her with him. Things were new. The kiss was still on my lips. I could taste the sweet cinnamon of her tongue. Hear her purr in my ear. I’d rather be there now, experiencing another one.

  “Should I tell you what I told both of your brothers?”

  “Don’t waste your breath, Wallace. Alaric didn’t take it well and neither will I. Miss Sparks is my guest. That’s all you need to know. While she stays, I want her to be treated as a princess.”

  I saw him twist the engraved ink pen in his hand. I wondered if he had the strength to snap it. With the crest of Marquis on the side, he wouldn’t dare.

  “Your king wants you to have the memostar.” He sighed, sliding a black leather case in my direction.

  “This is Corbin’s.” I stared at it. “You know my role as well as I do. I analyze data. I determine what the best course of action is for our economic plans and budgets. I consult the king. I provide analysis. I don’t need to know everything that’s happening at all times in the country. Corbin and Alaric can worry about that. I’ve never been groomed to be king, Wallace. Let’s not pretend that’s going to change today.”

  It didn’t make sense, especially since I hadn’t heard from either of them. No one in the family had said anything about it. Decisions like these took place over months. My weekend in uniform made me feel disconnected and removed from the family. I couldn’t use my cell the entire time. It usually came as a gift. Today, it seemed like it came with a price.

  “Prince Corbin has decided it will be months before he returns to Freychon. It’s no longer practical for him to have the memostar. It is the daily companion to the lodestar’s information. It’s crucial to the country’s daily operations for the second in command to have it daily.”

  “I know what the fuck it is.” I slammed my fist on the ancient table. “Why hasn’t Alaric called me? He owes me an explanation.” Part of this was family business that Wallace had no right to include himself.

  “Your Highness, you were unavailable this weekend when the decision had to be made. The agents tried to return you to the palace as soon as it was possible for the briefing we’re having now. I understand you delayed your return.” He pressed his thin lips together.

  I didn’t know if he was trying to condemn me for serving my country, or for defying his demand to return on his schedule.

  “Is my military service inconvenient to the crown?” I taunted.

  “Never.”

  “Good. Then we agree on something.”

  The memostar rested in front of me. I knew if I opened it, I would be accepting Pandora’s box. Accepting the responsibility inside it. Accepting I was no longer the kid brother prince.

  The question was—was I ready for that?

  Chapter Eight

  Gillian

  The meal Rae made for me was delicious. I’d always loved French food, and having my own personal crepe station was a decadent surprise. I could have anything I wanted. Chocolate. Cheese. Berries. It was amazing. All I had to do was say the word.

  “Anything else, mademoiselle?” he asked, hovering in the kitchen doorway. “The pan is hot and prepared for you.”

  “No. Thank you. It was wonderful.” I had eaten four crepes. Something I never would have done if it I hadn’t been starving and anxious. I had always been guilty of nervous eating. It was a bad combination for an actress.

  Most people thought I had nerves of steel, but it was the farthest thing from the truth. Walking a red carpet made my palms sweaty and my knees shake. Speaking in front of large crowds was like a punishment instead of a reward. I was the actress who needed her character for strength, not the other way around. If only they’d let me carry my stake with me, I could handle anything.

  “I’m honored.” Chef Rae bowed. “I will begin shutting the kitchen down for the night unless Prince Liam expects dinner?”

  I had no idea how to answer his question. “I-I don’t know if he wants anything.”

  “I’ll prepare a meal and put it in the oven for him.” Rae ducked into the kitchen. “Bon soir.”

  The ice was starting to burn my arm. I needed a break from the anti-swelling routine. I pushed the bag to the pillow and wiggled my fingers. They moved easily. I was still relieved the accident hadn’t been worse. What if I had run into a car? Or had hit my face on the concrete rim instead of my arm? It could have been much more severe. I could be dealing with stitches and scars. I was lucky.

  I looked around me. Instead of lying in my hotel room, I was in a palace. In Liam’s private apartments. I wondered how long it would take for me to accept this wasn’t a storyline. Tom wasn’t going to jump out the closet with his trademark fangs. This was real.

  I touched my fingertips to my lips, remembering that kiss. The kiss that had become the kiss of a lifetime.

  I didn’t know why I pretended to be unimpressed by Liam. Why I pushed away his flirtations. Why I tried to make him think I was uninterested, when I was clearly smitten like a little love kitten. He was gorgeous, sexy, and most arguably the best kisser in Galona.

  But that’s what I did. I never let men near me. I didn’t let them get close enough. It was another occupational hazard. I could never tell if it was new fame they loved or me. Was I just an extra few thousand social media clicks for them, or was the sun and the stars to them?

  I groaned and shoved off the couch. I hit the power button on the remote and turned off the TV. Liam had been gone for hours.

  I looked at the gilded clock over the elevators. I couldn’t believe it was nearly eleven. I wanted to wash the day away. I wandered into the spare bedroom, ending in the magnificent guest bath. There was marble and glass everywhere.

  I eyed the shower as I let my clothes fall to the floor.

  I twisted the crystal knob and watched as the room filled with steam. It felt good to wash my hair. Let my body soak in the warmth of the rain shower. I didn’t realize how sticky I was from falling in the fountain until I began to coat my skin in bubbles. They slid down my stomach
and legs and swirled before disappearing in the drain.

  I protected my arm from the hottest streams, but the more I stood under the cascade of water, the better I felt. Maybe I should have done this hours ago. I could almost feel the shitty day dissolving at my feet.

  I froze when I thought I heard a sound. Was it footsteps? Was it a door? I leaned closer to the glass wall of the shower, straining to listen for a recognizable sound.

  Chapter Nine

  Liam

  The apartments seemed empty when I walked off the elevator. There were blankets curled together on the couch and Gillian’s icepack on the floor. I carried the memostar under my arm. I tossed it on a library table, ignoring the fact that it was the single most important royal article in my possession.

  I wanted to forget the conversation with Wallace had ever occurred. I wanted to throw that thing out the fucking window.

  I pushed the kitchen door open. The air was warm and fragrant. I thought I smelled crepes. I hoped Rae had taken care of Gillian. I poked my head in my office. She wasn’t there either.

  I scratched the back of my head, going from room to room, until I heard the sound of the guest shower. I couldn’t stop the sudden rush of need welling in my chest. I pictured her body wet and naked. Glistening under the water. Soft and curvy.

  I’d wanted her since the first second I’d laid eyes on her. My bear wanted her even more. Knowing she was only a room away naked and waiting, was enough to make him tear through my skin.

  I turned the handle on the door. “Gillian?”

  I took a giant step inside the room. The bathroom door was cracked and steam escaped through the small sliver of space.

  I thought about turning around, but my bear knew what he wanted. He wanted her. In every way. I wanted to take her to my bed. I wanted to lick her and suck her. I wanted to bury myself inside her. Get lost in her.