Lately, I’ve seemed to have had quite a few flareups. After the first dizzy spell, I told myself it was nothing, that people get dizzy when moving quickly all the time. That the soreness in my muscles wasn’t connected to my MS. But with each muscle spasm and dizzy spell, the lies I tell myself are becoming harder and harder to believe.
“Yes, I’m sure. Good night, Creed.”
I expect to hear his typical “Your Highness”, but it never comes, making me slow my steps and glance back.
He looks around to make sure no one’s nearby to witness him break protocol, then jogs up the steps toward me, his gaze narrowed.
“Do you think this is the best course of action, Anders? You’ve only been back a week and are already exhausted.”
“I told you. It—”
“I know. I know. It’s important for people to think you’re capable of carrying out the responsibilities of king when the time comes.” He licks his lips, hesitant. “But if you keep going like this, you won’t be able to. Perhaps you should reconsider infusion therapy. Your current course of treatment doesn’t seem to be working. Or, at the very least, go see a doctor who’s not being paid by the royal household.”
“The palace neurologist is one of the top people in his field.”
“On paper, that may be true. But as your chief protection officer, it’s my job to protect you from all threats, including from within.” He leans toward me. “Including yourself, Anders. If the palace neurologist signed off on this schedule, which your private secretary claims he did, then he’s not the right person to be in charge of your care. Even I’m bushed, and I’m not fighting MS. You are. You need to acknowledge that fact before it’s too late.”
He allows his words to sink in for a beat. “Your Highness.” After a quick bow, he retreats down the steps and ducks inside the SUV.
On a long exhale, I squeeze my eyes shut and pinch the bridge of my nose. I know he’s right. Know I can’t possibly keep this up. But I still struggle with a certain level of denial. Just like when I was first diagnosed, I don’t want to admit it’s because of my MS. Want to believe it’s something else. Anything else.
Don’t want to believe I’m getting worse.
Sensing Creed’s gaze still focused on me through the darkened windows of the idling SUV, I turn and trudge the rest of the way up the front steps, a butler greeting me the instant I walk inside the estate.
“Your Highness.” He bows. “Can I get you anything before you retire for the evening?”
“No. Thank you.”
“Of course.” He stands to the side, posture rigid, as he’d been trained.
My hip muscles still unusually stiff, I do my best to hide any limp as I make my way up the grand staircase. Once I reach the east wing where the private quarters are located, I slowly open the door to the bedroom, hoping it doesn’t creak and wake up Nora.
My grandmother tried to insist I move her into the guest quarters at the palace to remove any appearance of impropriety, since we’re not yet married. I adamantly refused. I barely see her as it is. If she didn’t live here, I’d probably never see her. I won’t isolate her further from me, which is exactly what my grandmother wants.
As I slip inside the room, I expect to see that Nora’s fallen asleep reading a book, as she’s prone to do. To my surprise, when I look at the bed, a soft glow from the side table the only light, her eyes meet mine.
“Hey,” she says sweetly.
With that one word, all my troubles melt away. The day is nothing more than a distant memory, her soft voice and kind smile a reminder of what I want to come home to every day for the rest of my life.
“Hey,” I reply, dragging my body toward her as I tug off my tie and drop my suit jacket onto the floor. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I kick off my shoes and crawl on top of her, taking the book from her hands. “Rebecca?”
She shrugs. “Seemed like a good idea earlier.” Her expression falls. “Now it’s hitting a bit too close to home.”
“How so?”
“A nobody falls in love with a somebody, who then takes her to be lady of his English estate where she’s made to feel inadequate at every turn.”
I place the book on the nightstand and lower my lips toward hers. “You are not inadequate. How can you be when you saved my life? When you continue to save my life every damn day?”
She moans as I coax her mouth open, desperate for a taste of her. Her fingers scrape against my scalp as her tongue glides against mine, awakening a stirring sensation low in my belly. As I run my hand up her frame and over the swell of her breasts, her nipples straining against the thin material of her tank top, she tightens her grip on me, trying to pull my body even further into hers. But it’s still not enough. For either of us. Still doesn’t satisfy our unquenchable thirst.
“I need you,” she whimpers when I tear my lips from hers, peppering kisses along her jawline and neck. Knowing how much it sets her off, I clamp my teeth onto her earlobe, circling my tongue around the sensitive flesh.
“And I need you, gorgeous. You have no idea how bloody much I need you.”
“Then have me.”
“I plan on it.” I return to her lips, kissing her once more before pulling back. “Just give me ten minutes to clean up. Okay?”
She smiles and nods. “Okay.”
“Okay.” I leave her with one more kiss, then take my time to stand. Once I’m confident I won’t lose my footing, I rush toward the bathroom.
“Anderson?” she says as I’m about to close the door.
“Yes?” I meet her seductive gaze.
“Don’t shave. I miss the feel of your scruff between my legs.”
“Yes, my lady,” I say with an exaggerated bow.
Not wanting to keep her waiting any longer than necessary, I take one of the quickest showers of my life. After today, I need this connection, need to lose myself in Nora. As long as we’re able to leave the outside world behind, even for a few moments every night, I’m confident we’ll survive this tumultuous world.
Once I’ve washed away the day, I dry off, not bothering to dress in anything more than a pair of boxer briefs. I don’t plan on wearing them long anyway.
“Okay, gorgeous,” I say upon walking out of the bathroom, a wall of steam following me. “I’m all clean and…” I trail off as my gaze falls on her. Her chest rises and falls in an even pattern, lips slightly parted, eyes closed in peaceful slumber.
On light feet, I head to her and take the book out of her hands once more, placing it on the nightstand. I bend toward her, kissing her forehead.
“I love you,” I whisper.
After I turn off the lamp, I walk to the other side of the bed and climb in. I set my alarm for thirty minutes earlier than usual in the hopes of taking care of her tomorrow morning instead. I nuzzle close to her, inhaling a deep breath, her comforting aroma carrying me to sleep.
It feels like only a second passes before my alarm buzzes, rousing me. Keeping my eyes closed, I turn it off and reach for Nora. When I don’t feel her, I open my eyes to find an empty bed, even at six in the morning.
I toss the duvet off me and stand, wrapping a robe around me. When I step into the hall, one of the members of my staff greets me, waiting to cater to my every need.