When we were growing up, I had always been the one with the joke, the one who had tried his best to make people smile and laugh. After all, I was the spare, and for right now, the heir. I was second in line to the crown, and the only responsibility I had was not to shame the family name, though I might’ve tried it a few times. Our name could be tarnished, but never truly shamed. Roman did his best to make sure that never happened. My older brother, the king, was serious, a little dour, and pretty much an asshole. But I figured he had to be when he had the weight of a country on his shoulders, especially in a day and age when every country could watch him, judge him, and picture him in either perfection or in travesty.
Wilder had always been the quiet one, the serious one. While Roman might be serious with a perpetual need to dominate his world and keep it safe, Wilder had always been a little quieter about it, but no less fierce. Though every now and again, Wilder showed a little spirit.
I knew while Roman did his best to protect his family and country, Wilder was right there behind him, every step of the way, making sure that could indeed happen.
There was already enough seriousness in our family. They didn’t need another grim-faced Waterford.
So I had stepped up to the plate as the superficial brother, and I couldn’t help but have fun with it. After all, the royal playboy got to have a lot of fun, entertainment, and a never-ending supply of amusement.
I strolled past the courtyard and looked down onto the view from one of the terraces. The castle was set up amongst tall evergreen trees that looked gorgeous in winter with snow draped on them. I loved every piece of history within this stone, even if I knew some of it was shrouded in episodes that came from spilled royal blood.
The wind swept through my hair, and I pushed it from my face, closed my eyes, let out a breath, and just let myself be. After all, it wasn’t often I felt free.
I had slept like shit. Instead of a blissfully dreamless sleep, my dreams had been filled with visions of satiny, honey-colored skin and dark eyes. Dark inky hair that cascaded over my pillow as I—well, never mind all that. The point was, Sparrow had made it impossible to get any rest. Not that I was worried about her or anything. Because that would be ridiculous.
And I knew I would feel that lack of rest before the day ended. I had an appearance at a party later in the evening, and then I said I might stop by at a club opening on the other side of the city afterward. My name helped sell tickets to things, and I knew my worth, even if that worth sometimes changed day to day.
I had to be on for the rest of the day, and while I relished it, I knew I needed a little more pep before I was ready to play my public role.
“Prince Breck?” a low voice said from beside me, and I turned to see a woman with dark red hair piled on the top of her head. Her skin was pale and creamy with freckles dotted over her face. She had an Irish accent, thick curves, and a tiny waist. I wasn’t quite sure how she could even walk in those heels of hers on the stone, but she was doing it just fine.
“Ah, Miss McKinney, is it?” I asked as she beamed at me.
“You’re welcome to call me Siobhan.”
I had zero intention of getting that familiar with her. However, when I smiled at her and a little blush swept over her cheeks, I smiled harder.
“What can I do for you?” I asked, almost offhandedly. She was beautiful and interested. Under normal circumstances, I’d already have steered her somewhere dark and private, but I had absolutely zero desire to do so. What the hell was wrong with me? A beautiful woman was smiling at me, giving me I’m available signals, and I didn’t feel a damn thing.
“I was wondering if you were going to the event tonight?”
I went through my mental calendar to remember which one she was talking about and came up blank. “Ah, I have another engagement, but if you’re going to be there, I may have to stop by.”
“Oh, we would love you to.”
And then another stunning beauty, the mirror image of the woman I was speaking with, joined us. “Yes, we would love you to come by.”
They were the twins Wilder had spoken about. The twins that had a company ripe for acquisition. Because while they were there for a royal event, they were also co-CEOs of a major tech company in Ireland. And I had a vested interest in that. So, my job was to do what I did best.
Become the charming royal prince.
Instead of what was clearly on offer, all I could think about was the woman who hated me and was currently lying in a bed, hurt, bruised, and a shadow of herself.
“You know what, ladies? I will see you tonight at the event, but I need to check on something else right now.”
They seemed a little disappointed, but I knew we would talk business later. I would schmooze and smile, but I would not be sleeping with them.
Instead, I would be following up on our resident protector and figuring out who the hell had dared touch her.
Chapter 4
Sparrow
Change happens. It doesn’t mean I have to like it.
* * *
One week.
One week since some asshat had tried to tear my world down around me. One week since that jackhole had put his hands on me. The good news was the bruises had started to fade. The bad news was I fully intended to find the idiot and make him pay for trying to scare me.
You are a little scared.
No. Fear immobilized. Anger motivated. I needed to hold onto the lava-like rage flowing through my blood. Rage that some guy thought he could hurt me. Rage that I’d been so off my game. Rage that I’d been reckless.
Of all of this, what I hated the most was not trusting my instincts. I didn’t make dumb mistakes.
Well, you do now.
No. I didn’t. I just needed to get on my game. I would review every move, every turn, every choice, down to my new apartment, or flat as everyone called it in Alden. And when I found the chink in my armor, I’d fix it.
But this is the second time you’ve been attacked in less than six months.
I was not here for that particular brand of logic. I was aware that I was more tense than usual, but I refused to call that feeling fear.
I loved my flat. When I first saw it, I fell in love with its old-world charm and the stone and brick exterior, looking like something straight out of the 1800s as you came in the entrance. But it was a little dark in the building’s entryway and could use better lighting.
But just up the narrow staircase and through my door was the brightest, most modern, beautiful space anywhere. Everything was light and airy and spacious. And the flat overlooked the gardens of the palace. It was only just around the corner from work, not at all far to the castle. And the best part was the cobblestones outside.
I loved everything that had old-world charm. But now… now I regretted my choice. After Wilder and the doctor released me from my confines at the palace, my senses were too aware of the narrow stairway and the blind corners as it wound up to my floor. There were too many dark hallways and cubbies.
It screamed not safe.
And I hated that some asshole had stolen my joy like that.
As I started the morning, sipped my coffee, and enjoyed the sunshine over the gardens, I tried to tell myself I was making too much of it. I loved my apartment. I didn’t want to give it up. It was even better than my apartment in LA, and that one was spectacular.