I woke up to an empty bed and Keaton’s scent on my pillow, masculine and strong like cloves and cinnamon. The sun crept through my bedroom curtains, reminding me that I had survived another day at Thornebridge Castle. Barely.
Keaton never brought up Sutton, and I didn’t either, but his name hung heavy in the air around us. Even though he spent the night, we didn’t have sex. That still-small voice kept telling me I wasn’t ready to be that vulnerable again. Instead, we talked and laughed—something we hardly ever did—then he held me until we both fell asleep.
I spent most weekends reading, baking, or in the garden. Weekdays were quiet for the most part, but (until recently) on weekends the castle buzzed with an energy that I usually stayed away from. The girl I was four months ago would’ve loved it. She thrived on variety and excitement. The constant coming and going. Lavish meals and imported wines. That quiet thrill that came from meeting new people. I wasn’t that girl anymore.
The sun warmed my skin as I sat on a stone bench in front of the fountain in the South Garden. A warm breeze blew in off the water, whipping strands of my long hair against my face. Perfectly manicured grass rolled away from concrete pathways like a green carpet leading to a blanket of colorful flowers.
Through an open area, I saw my villa. Beyond that was the Mediterranean Sea. The south end had a private beach, not big or crowded like the other beaches in Torryn. This one was solitary. It was mine. It was quiet and peaceful, just me and the waves. Sometimes I sat out here at night and listened to them gently lap against the shore. Other times, I sat and watched the fountain. The white marble and stone structure stood three-tiers high, each tier waterfalling to the one below then finally landing in a pool of crystal-clear blue water. This was my peace. My memories were safe here. This was where I came to talk to Dad.
“I wish you were here,” I said to the wide, blue sky. The irony about grief was that the person you wanted to console you was the person that was no longer here. “Everything is a mess right now. Mama stays so busy that I never see her. I don’t talk to any of my old friends. And I’m afraid to make new ones. I don’t fit in with the staff, but I’m not exactly a guest either. I’m just… alone.” A gentle breeze carried the fragrant scent of stock flowers with it. I breathed it in, loving the way it reminded me of home. “The strawberries are ripe and ready to be picked. You’d love it. Green and red as far as the eye can see. It’s beautiful. Sometimes I take the train to the outer roads and just stare at it. The new owners have done a great job restoring the land. I wish it could’ve been me. I wish I wouldn’t have let you down. One day, I promise to make you proud.”
I’d read about all the things other places had to offer and the hundreds of possibilities. Ever since we moved to the castle, all I ever did was read. Fiction, non-fiction, romance, suspense, history, I devoured every word as though the very air I breathed depended on it. The world was vast and great, and as soon as I got my inheritance, I could see it all—Africa, China, America. It was a fresh start, a new beginning. I could be anything, do anything. I could finally go to college. Guilt gnawed at the pit of my stomach for being excited. Part of me was more than ready to get out of Torryn, away from the constant reminders of everything I’d lost. Another part of me was terrified of being so far away. My life was here. This was my home. Yet something inside me kept telling me that I was made for so much more. There was a constant war being waged in my heart between wanting to remember and being afraid to forget.
“Why do I keep finding you in the most unexpected places?”
I shrieked at the sound of Sutton’s voice. “Mother farter, you scared me.”
He arched a brow, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his charcoal dress pants. He was perfection personified, and he made it look effortless. Then again, the devil was just an angel who painted his evil in beautiful lies. I hated myself for staring.
One corner of his mouth curved up. “What did you just say?”
It was hard to tell if he was mocking me or if he was genuinely amused, but I wasn’t about to explain my quirks to him. I didn’t curse. So what? “You can’t just sneak up on people. It’s rude.”
All hints of humor vanished from his face as he took a step forward. “Rude? Like ditching work to hang out in the garden?”
I gripped the edge of the bench, my fingers clutching the stone while I silently willed him not to come any closer. “I don’t work on Saturdays.”
As if he’d read my mind and decided to purposefully defy me, he took another step forward. “Says who?”
His eyes scanned the open, empty courtyard, stopping when they came back to me. There were no witnesses this time. It was only us, me and the prince, completely alone. He could say whatever he wanted, do whatever he wanted, and no one but us would ever know. It was the perfect set-up for predator and prey.
I wasn’t anyone’s prey.
“Your father.” I glared at him. “The king.”
My tone portrayed more courage than I actually felt. My only hope was getting out of here before he noticed the cracks in my armor. The second I stood up, I realized how close he’d gotten. Something unpredictable flashed in his eyes, sending a rush of heated adrenaline all the way to my core.
My heart hammered against my ribcage. “Is there something I can help you with, Your Royal Highness?”
His smirk grew into a smile, challenging me, daring me to push his buttons. The very sight of it irritated me. “You can start by calling me Sutton.”
That would never happen. His first name was personal, and we were nowhere close to being friends.
He took another step forward, moving so close that I could count the barely-there freckles on his nose. “Is that your pick-up line? Am I supposed to feel special? Call me Sutton.” I exaggerated the seduction in his tone. “Did you ask that poor brunette to call you Sutton too?”
It was obvious that the girl from last night was anything but poor. She was probably the princess of Spain or something. She could’ve been the queen of Narnia for all I cared. I blew her off because it didn’t matter to me, and I didn’t want him to make the mistake of thinking it did.
His jaw clenched. “Goddammit I’m trying… really fucking trying to be nice, and somehow you still manage to piss me off.”
If this was him being nice, I wanted nothing to do with cruel.
I tried to back away, but the concrete bench hit my calves, holding me in place from behind while his body blocked me from the front. I was trapped. All I wanted to do was run, but as usual, fate got the last laugh.
“You can’t make things right. No one can.”
He dug his fingers into the side of my hip and pulled me against him. His grip was strong and hard, like the erection pressing against my stomach. I tried to ignore it, but an invisible rope lured me toward him, causing my back to arch into his touch. It should’ve terrified me how easily he made my body bend to his will, but it didn’t. It excited me, and I hated it.
“At least let me try. Give me one night.” His voice was strained, like saying the words caused him physical pain.
Maybe it was the loss of blood flow to his brain.
A rush of anxiety surged through me. My legs felt weak and awareness prickled my skin. The word no danced on my tongue. If I pushed him away and told him to leave me alone, would he get mad? Make me leave the castle? What would happen to Mama when he found out who I was? We had nothing left. No money. No family. We had nowhere to go. The four-thousand dollars I had in savings might last two months if we were lucky. Was he that cruel? Could I take that chance? The Crown took everything from us once. I wasn’t letting it happen again, not when I had the power to stop it, not when I wasn’t entirely sure I even wanted it to stop at all. Maybe that was it, the source of the anxiety. It was a lot easier to reject the prince than to think he might reject me.