A Wicked Truth (37 page)

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Authors: M. S. Parker

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: A Wicked Truth
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I spoke before she could say or do anything that would make this a whole lot more complicated. “The bathroom's free. Towels are in the little cabinet next to the shower.”

Her smile wavered a bit, but she didn't get angry, so I kept going.

“I'll call a cab while you're cleaning up.”

I saw a flash of anger in her eyes, and then it was gone. Without a word, she climbed out from under the covers and walked out. I breathed a sigh of relief that there hadn't been a fight. That was one of the reasons I usually didn't let my partners spend the night. Leaving right after sex was a lot less awkward than a morning-after conversation. I supposed it was something about the intimacy of literally sleeping together that made some women assume that there was more between us than sex.

I dressed quickly, unsure how long Cosette would be. She might take her time, hoping I'd change my mind, or she might be so pissed that she didn't want to be around me any longer than she had to. As soon as I pulled my shirt over my head, I called information for the number of the closest cab company.

Fortunately for me, the car arrived in record time and when Cosette came out of the bedroom, again dressed in her little handkerchief of a dress, I was able to escort her right out to the car. The driver gave me a knowing wink, but didn't say a word as Cosette climbed into the backseat, deliberately opening her legs so that I could see she wasn't wearing her thong. I really hoped she hadn't left it in my room, thinking she'd call about it later. I hated women who tried sneaky things like that.

I'd made no promises to her, no indication that I wanted a relationship. In fact, I'd specifically told her that all I wanted was a hook up. If she'd read anything else into it, it was on her. If she had left her panties in my room, they were going straight into the trash. As good as the sex had been last night – and considering how many times we'd done it, I couldn't really describe it as less than that – I was starting to have regrets.

As I watched the cab drive away, I ran my hand through my still-wet hair, sending droplets of water raining down on my shoulders. It was longer than I usually let it get. It was nearly impossible to tame unless I kept it short and, in those last couple weeks back home, it had been my private rebellion. Now it was a combination of that and just being lazy.

I went back inside. My stomach growled as I walked into the kitchen, but I couldn't find anything appetizing enough to eat. Finally, I grabbed a box of cereal and headed into the living room, fully intending to eat directly from the box and watch tv until I figured out what I was going to do now.

I thought I'd been lost before, drifting from one party to the next, one woman to the next. I'd had no direction, no idea of what the future held. That feeling had increased tenfold since I'd watched Nami walk out of my hotel room. I'd been living in the moment with her, but it somehow hadn't felt like that. If I was honest with myself, I'd felt more myself than I had...ever.

There'd been no plan, no schedule, but I'd taken charge, deciding what we were going to do, where we'd go. When we'd talked, I'd felt like I could share everything with her. She could have helped me figure out my path, I thought. She would've listened when I'd given her a list of ideas of what I wanted to do with the rest of my life, and she would've given an honest opinion. She would have supported whatever decision I made.

I leaned my head on the back of the couch and closed my eyes. For the first time since she'd left, I gave myself permission to call up the image of her face. Dark brown curls, cropped short. Just long enough to bury my fingers in the silky strands. Dusky skin. High cheekbones and a straight nose. Cyan eyes contributed to her exotic beauty. Only…it was more than her appearance. It was the way her full lips had curved into a smile. The blue-green sparkle of her eyes when she laughed.

A pang of longing went through me, so sharp that it was an almost physical hurt. I missed her, I finally allowed myself to admit. I missed her body, her scent. The intelligence of her conversation. The way I'd kept making a fool of myself in front of her.

I opened my eyes and looked around. The villa was just as beautiful as it had always been, every piece of furniture and decoration carefully chosen by a well-paid interior designer to show off the proper mixture of wealth and taste. I'd never really cared about any of that before, but it had been more of a not caring brought about by being used to it. Now, I saw things differently.

What was the point of all this, I asked myself. Why have all this money if all I was ever going to be was miserable? I didn't know if my parents were happy with their lives, but I doubted it. I knew Rebecca wasn't. She'd always pretended to be, but no one that nasty could be anything less than miserable with themselves. And then there was me. I'd never really thought about happiness before. It was all duty and loyalty. I'd tried to be happy with Piper, but even that hadn't done it.

I was tired of this, I realized suddenly. All of it. Not only tired of traveling around Europe without any purpose, fucking whoever I got into bed, and then moving on to the next party. I was sick of being a Stirling, of the responsibilities my last name put on my shoulders. Or, more accurately, the responsibilities my parents thought being a Stirling meant. I was tired of being told what to do, who to love and how I should behave.

I wanted more out of life than one party after another, one faceless woman. More than the power and money that came with being in charge of the Stirling businesses. I wanted my own life, but not because I wanted to rebel against my parents. I wanted it because I actually wanted to be happy.

And I was sure I needed Nami for that. My time with her had been the best I'd had for as long as I could remember. Even when I'd talked about my parents and my life back in Philadelphia, it hadn't seemed as important as it had before. When I was with her, I wanted to be a better man, not to impress anyone or make my parents proud. I wanted to deserve her. And not because she was a princess, but because of the amazing person I knew her to be. She deserved every happiness, and I wanted to give that to her.

I just didn't know if I was part of the equation. For all I knew, she was happy back in her home country, preparing for her upcoming wedding, ready to take on the mantle of crown princess. Despite her assertion that she'd always remember me, I couldn't help but wonder if I'd already faded from her mind. The thought hurt more than I cared to admit.

 

Chapter 3

Nami

I'd lied.

I'd told my parents that I'd submit to their will when I returned from Italy, but that promise had lasted all of two days before I'd given up.

It wasn't that I didn't love Saja. My island home was just far enough into the ocean that we didn't have to worry much about people from the mainland disturbing our peace. Every once in a while, we had visitors, but we weren't a country that thrived on tourism. Actually, we mostly kept to ourselves. While we imported goods, we weren't reliant on any one country, which allowed us to stay out of political issues. The beaches were beautiful, some rocky, some sandy. Our capital was more of a town than a city, but it was the closest thing to a metropolitan area we had. All of our businesses were there. Banks, police department, all of that. And, of course, the courthouse. We were a monarchy, but we used a justice system similar to America and the United Kingdom. The king or queen – whichever happened to be the ruling monarch at the time – did have the final say, but appeals rarely went that high. Our crime rate was low, our economy flourishing, and everything was perfect.

Everything except my life. Saja was my home. I loved it, just like I loved my family. King Raj and Queen Mara. My family had been ruling Saja for several generations, the crown past down from oldest child to oldest child, regardless of gender. And now it was my turn.

I was only twenty-two years-old, out of college for only a couple weeks, and my life was over. I opened my eyes, squinting against the early afternoon light. My head was pounding and my mouth was dry. There was a stale, nasty taste that told me, as much as the headache, that I'd drunk too much last night. Again.

When I'd left Princeton with my political science degree, I'd known what was coming next. An arranged marriage to a man of my parents' choice. Additional lessons in various foreign languages as well as ongoing updates on the political and economic situations in major world powers. Invitations to parties I didn't want to attend, mingling with people I didn't want to know. Basically, all the shit that came with me being the heir to the throne.

I hadn't been happy about it, but I'd accepted it as being just the way it was. I'd been thrilled with my parents' graduation gift of a European trip, but even that had been all about politics. Being in the right place at the right time. And, of course, behaving myself. I'd done my little bit of rebellion, though. Cut my hair...and lost my virginity. The first, everyone could see and my parents could brush under the table as some sort of fashion statement. The second had to be kept a secret.

Saja wasn't some backwards country where I'd be beaten or killed for having sex, but being the crown princess meant that my future husband would want to ensure that it was his child who would be next in line. That meant my parents, myself and the two bodyguards who'd been with me since I first went to America for college, all had to sign documents stating that I was a virgin.

I grinned despite the throbbing in my temples. That ship had sailed back in Princeton when I'd slept with my best friend. It hadn't meant anything though. My smile disappeared and I climbed out of bed. I didn't want to think about who I'd slept with next. I'd been trying to put those thoughts out of my head since I'd gotten back.

When I walked out of my bathroom, feeling a bit better after a quick shower and brushing my teeth, I noticed what I hadn't before. I hadn't been alone in my bed.

Fuck. I scowled. Who had I slept with last night? I closed my eyes, trying to remember. Most of the last two weeks was a blur. An intoxicated blur.

I'd played the dutiful daughter for two days, but then my parents had told me that they were down to their top three choices for my future husband. That hadn't been a surprise, but then I'd made the mistake of asking if I could meet all three and have the final say. I knew my parents loved me, but the look on their faces had made me hate them for a moment. It had been clear, without a word needed, that my marriage wasn't any of my concern.

I'd known that, of course, and if it hadn't been for what had happened in Paris, I might not have cared. I'd prepared myself. But then I'd met Reed and had experienced a glimpse of the kind of life I could've had. That taste of freedom had infected me and I couldn't seem to get back the same sense of duty I'd once had.

I wanted more out of life.

To my parents' dismay and disappointment, that meant I'd decided to have some fun. The first night, I'd only snuck out and gone to a club. I hadn't known until Kai and Tomas had shown up that my parents had a GPS tracker on my phone. Apparently, that's how my bodyguards had found me in Venice too, except the reception there had been so bad that it had taken them a while.

I pushed those memories aside. I didn't want to think about Venice.

My parents had freaked about my trip to the club, but the family's PR person, Mikkels, had managed to keep it under wraps. Then they'd doubled my guard detail. I could barely go to the bathroom without tripping over one of them.

The body on the bed rolled over and now I could see his face.

Right. Ari. Now I remembered. Well, pieces of it anyway.

Ari was only a couple years older than me and my newest bodyguard. I smirked. He'd done a hell of a lot more than guard my body last night. The flashes of memory I was getting involved a couple bottles of Saja's finest alcohol and a very naked man.

I glanced at the clock. Tomas and Kai would be back shortly, and there was no way Ari wasn't fired. It had been his job to keep me from doing anything stupid. Unfortunately for him, I was smarter than he was.

Since I'd been put under virtual house arrest, I hadn't been able to get out, but I'd managed to find enough alcohol in the house to keep me pleasantly buzzed every night. When I'd met Ari, however, something snapped. I didn't just want to annoy my parents, I wanted to piss them off.

Ari tossed off the blankets, revealing a toned, muscular body. He was shorter than Tomas and Kai, just under six feet, and thinner than them, but he couldn't exactly be called lean. His hair was dark and thick, his shoulders broad. He had strong, masculine features, hazel eyes and didn't resemble Reed in the slightest.

Which is exactly why I'd wanted to have sex with him. I'd needed someone who didn't look like Reed. Someone who would help me forget him. I'd told Reed that I wanted to remember him, and a part of me wanted to hang on, but I'd also learned how painful remembering could be. It might've been easier if it had just been sex, but there had been a connection with Reed I simply couldn't deny.

While I still didn't want to even think about someone chosen by my parents touching me, fucking me, I knew I couldn't keep reliving the memory of my time with Reed. It hurt too much. I needed him out of my head if I could ever go through with this. With the marriage, with training to become queen.

I shook my head. Apparently, last night hadn't worked.

I looked at Ari again, letting my eyes moved down from his chest to where his cock rested on his leg. I was happy to see a used condom on the bed next to him – I hadn't been able to remember if we'd used one – but my attention quickly focused on the thick shaft slowly swelling as I watched.

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