Royals Saga 3 Crown Me

CROWN ME

Copyright © 2015 by Geneva Lee.

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

First published, 2015.

ISBN: 978-0-9960331-6-9

Westminster Press

www.GenevaLee.com

Cover image © VLC Productions.

Cover Design © Date Book Designs.

To the ladies of the Royal Court,

we’ll use that term loosely. Stay smexy, my friends.

Look for
Two Week Turnaround

coming April 2015

from Cosmo Red Hot Reads

With box office bankability, millions of adoring fans, and a new woman in his bed every night, Isaac Blue has it all. But when he’s arrested in London while filming Maximum Studio’s summer blockbuster, his antics threaten to shut down the whole show. His producers aren’t waiting for rock bottom, they’re sending in Sofia King.

Known for her two-week turnaround, former Hollywood royalty Sofia has a better track record at reforming celebrity train wrecks than rehab. She’s not about to let Isaac slip through her fingers, but he might prove too hot to handle.

T
he sun peeked cheerily through the kitchen window. Purple hues painted the sky, casting the quiet Notting Hill neighborhood in a rosy glow that was unusually vivid for February. But despite the beauty of the peaceful London morning unfolding outside, I only had eyes for the man lounging against the counter. Black silk pajama pants hung low off his hips, displaying his carved abs and the deeply hewn V that I loved to run my fingers over. His black hair was still tangled from this morning’s lovemaking session. It hadn’t even been an hour since his crystal blue eyes had been locked on mine while he coaxed my body to two toe-curling orgasms. But as gorgeous as his body was, it had nothing on his heart. My chest tightened as I considered that he was mine. It seemed impossible that this brutally beautiful man belonged to me.

Alexander’s sinful mouth curved into a knowing smirk as I drank him in. He held out a mug. “For you, poppet.”

I took a cautious sip from it and nodded approvingly.

“Am I finally getting the hang out of it?” he asked.

“Not bad,” I confirmed, taking another drink.

“The least I can do is to caffeinate you after last night, even if it means making coffee.”

“If you’re going to keep me up half the night, I have to agree,” I teased lightly, trying to ignore the way my lower belly tensed at the memories of how he’d kept me up. Being late to work was becoming a bad habit, and I didn’t need to tempt myself any further.

Alexander and I had fallen into a comfortable routine during the last few months despite our ongoing argument regarding coffee versus tea. We’d survived the holiday season and both our families along with it. That was no small feat, given that his father would prefer I vanished into thin air and that my own parents’ marriage was hanging by a thread. Still, our relationship was more solid than ever. The lies and secrets that had once created a wall between us had been replaced by trust and understanding. Now it was time to start focusing on the changes this year would bring. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to marry Alexander. I couldn’t wait to be his wife. It was that it meant spending time with people I’d rather avoid, as well as facing just how much my life was about to change.

His hand cupped my chin and drew my attention back to him. Back to this moment and away from the future. “You’ve got that I’m overthinking things look on your face.”

I forced a smile and shook my head. “There’s a lot on my plate.”

“One less thing on your plate soon.” His tone was casual as he spoke, but it didn’t stop me from sucking in a defensive breath.

Here we go again. This was exactly the conversation I wished to avoid with my overprotective lover.

“I’m going to miss my job. They need me there,” I reminded him. It might not seem like a dream job to others, but the work I did with Peters & Clarkwell was important. At least to me. Despite being new to the company, I’d already worked on several environmental and social campaigns that had received global attention. The best part was that the work I did writing press releases and creating social media campaigns actually did something to bring positive change to the world. I would never have gotten rich doing it, but that hardly mattered given the balance of my trust fund. However, joining the Royal family meant taking on new responsibilities that prohibited me from continuing with my job. It had been a bitter pill to swallow—in fact, it still was.

Alexander’s blue eyes flamed to life, and he crooked a curious eyebrow at me. “I need you, and you don’t need to work.”

“I want to work. Being independently wealthy isn’t an excuse to spend all day shopping and going to the spa.”

“You’re not going to become your mother,” Alexander assured me, bypassing subtlety in favor of directness. Of course, he knew what this was about. At least I thought so until he added, “And believe me you’ll have plenty of responsibilities besides shopping and mud wraps soon.”

I set down my coffee mug and faced him, my hand slipping down to finger the drawstring of his pants. “Like?”

His arm hooked around my waist, pulling me against him violently. His cock thickened between us until it was a rock hard reminder of exactly what he expected from me. But despite the desire awakening in my blood, this wasn’t a subject I would let slide. “Can we start with spending all day in bed?”

“As much as I love the idea of you naked every waking moment, I meant your other responsibilities. There will be expectations when you become my wife, poppet.” His tone had softened even if his grip on me was still firm and unrelenting.

“Oh.” Of course there would be. I knew that. At least I thought I did. Months ago, I’d given notice to my boss that I’d be leaving in February, so why couldn’t I process that it was actually happening? Probably because it meant turning my back on everything I’d worked to accomplish at university in favor of navigating the choppy waters of the Royals. To most of them I was simply an American pretender who had no place marrying the heir to the throne. My education, my upbringing—none of that mattered to them, which made giving up my career sting even more.

Alexander’s lips cruised along my jaw. “It’s not a death sentence.”

“That would mean more if you didn’t act like it was,” I shot back, unable to quash my own defensiveness.

“Clara, you’ll still work with charities, but when we’re married, you’ll have all my resources and connections at your disposal. You’ll be meeting with world leaders to affect change instead of doing online campaigns.”

I had a feeling he was making those opportunities sound far more glamorous and empowering than they’d actually prove to be. The trouble was that I knew there was a difference between activism and politics. Alexander understood that as well. But regardless of how I felt, I also knew that choosing him meant giving up my previous life, and I’d made my choice. I’d expected a bit longer to acclimate myself to the idea. Of course, nothing involving Alexander was gradual. Everything between us happened too quickly—meeting him at my graduation party, falling into bed and unexpectedly falling in love. Our early relationship had been rocky, but once we’d recommitted to each other last fall, things had moved swiftly. Now the wedding was less than two months away. My head had been spinning for months, trying to keep up with my own life.

“I’d rather stay in bed with you than sit through meetings with politicians,” I admitted with a sigh. At least, if I had to give up my career, I had a lifetime of Alexander to soften the blow. No matter how much changed, he was the constant. My center. My core. As long as I had him, I could handle all the chaos.

His hands slid from my hips to cup my ass. “We could stay in bed today.”

“No way, X.” I shoved at him playfully. “I promised Tori lunch, and I swore I wouldn’t be late.”

“Tell your boss that there were pressing matters of state.” He swiveled his hips to show me exactly what pressing matters we were discussing.

I bit back a moan, but the momentary loss of concentration was all the time Alexander needed to shove my skirt into a bunch around my waist. A low growl vibrated through him as he touched my delicate lace garter and thong set. A finger pushed aside the scrap of lace, exposing my sex, and anticipation rolled through me.

“I can’t let you leave without a proper send-off,” he murmured silkily.

“You gave me two proper send-offs this morning.” But it was already a lost cause. My body responded to his gentle strokes with hunger and I rocked my hips against his hand.

“Oh God, I love you,” he said as my fingers slipped past his waistband and closed greedily over his cock.

Work could definitely wait.

Half an hour later, I was definitely late to work. Maybe it was a good thing that my last day was near. If this kept up, I was likely to be sacked anyway. Slamming the red door of our house shut behind me, I shouldered my bag and waved to the Rolls-Royce parked at the curb. I couldn’t see Norris, Alexander’s personal security guard, who was now mine as well, but I knew he was there waiting to take me to the office. I stepped forward and my heel crushed something soft under foot. Stumbling back, I found a smashed rose. I crouched down and picked it up with trembling fingers. Immediately I scanned the small garden that provided privacy to our residence. At least, it was supposed to offer privacy. My stomach plummeted as I dropped the remains of the flower.

Someone had been here.

Norris appeared before me, and although his kind, weathered face remained impassive, I could tell by the tension in his posture that we were wondering the same thing: was the rose a token of admiration or a threat?

“Did you see anyone here?” I asked. It was a silly question. If Norris had found someone this close to our home, they’d already be on their way to the nearest police station.

He picked up the flower and inspected it. Without thinking, I plucked one of the petals and mashed it between my fingers. It was cold, nearly frozen. It could have been here all night, which meant that whoever had left it had managed to get in past the security that maintained a constant, if distant, presence outside at all hours.

“Miss Bishop,” Norris said in a measured voice as he guided me back toward the door, “please wait inside while I speak to Alexander.”

That wasn’t going to work. My life was already upside down and I couldn’t let every perceived threat frighten me. Staying behind locked doors wasn’t an option. “I’m already late for work.”

“It will only take a moment,” he reassured me.

I sucked in a frustrated breath, squared my shoulders, and allowed him to see me back inside. I didn’t have much of a choice. As much as I wanted to pretend nothing had happened, Norris was my ride to work, so I either waited outside—alone—or I followed suit. But it wasn’t fear that made me choose retreat, it was the possibility that I might overhear something important. Security had been tight since I’d been attacked by my crazy ex-boyfriend, Daniel, on the night of our housewarming party. He was in jail, charged with attempted murder amongst a number of other lesser charges. Alexander and Norris were careful to keep discussions regarding my personal safety to a minimum—at least in front of me. After the proposal, I’d been more than happy to turn a blind eye in favor of romantic bliss. But this changed things. If something more was going on, I needed to know.

Alexander appeared in the hallway as soon as the door opened. His face was unreadable, a skill he’d perfected after years of constant media scrutiny, but there was no denying from his rigid stance that he was on alert. I was torn between running to him and staying close to the door, uncertain if my touch would calm him or upset him further. He feared for my life, having already lost both his mother and sister, and Daniel’s attack had only made his anxiety on that front worse. No security measure seemed to soothe him.

Norris passed the rose to him. Neither spoke, but the look they shared said enough.

“What’s going on?” I demanded.

“Could you wait outside?” Alexander asked his trusted bodyguard.

So much for getting any information.

As soon as Norris was out the door, I rounded on my fiancé. “Tell me this is just the token of a very stealthy admirer.”

“Perhaps.” It was all he said, but the words he didn’t say spoke louder.

“Daniel is in jail awaiting trial,” I reminded him.

“Clara.” His tone was rich with warning, but I ignored him.

“Don’t Clara me,” I snapped. “You’ve had this place watched like it’s a nuclear test site for months. If something else is going on, I need to know.”

We were under twenty-four-hour surveillance in our own home. Most of the time, I could ignore that. The men Alexander had hired to protect me were ex-military and very good at their jobs. They kept out of sight, but I still felt their presence at home. At work, I couldn’t even go out to lunch without an armed escort parked nearby. It was beyond controlling, especially if the biggest threat to my safety was locked up. Unless…

Realization crashed through me, and my hand shot to the wall to steady myself. “Oh my God.”

Alexander’s arms were around me before I could voice the fear tripping on the end of my tongue. “You’re safe.”