“Yes,” I said, wiping my hands on my pants. “Please.”
After translating my answer, the physician beckoned for me to follow him. “Go on,” Arthur said. “We will be here when you get back.”
I gave them all a smile and followed the physician to a room nearby. He stepped back and I stepped in, swallowing hard as I looked at the form in the bed. Johanna looked so fragile and pale against the white sheets, with lines and tubes snaking out of her body. I stifled a gasp as I hurried to her bedside, picking up her hand carefully. “I’m so sorry, “I said brokenly. “I didn’t mean for you to get hurt. You should have never done what you did, Johanna. I’m not worth it.”
She didn’t response of course, but I held her hand up to my face, touching it with my cheek. I would make it up to her somehow; tell her how much I cared about her and how much I appreciated her friendship.
I just hoped I got the chance to do so.
***
Royce
I drummed my fingers on my knee, keeping my eyes out of the window and not on the woman sitting beside me.
For if I looked at her, I would see the bruises around her neck, and it would only piss me off again.
Her hand was tightly wrapped in mine, but I could feel the tremor go through her body every once and a while, only infuriating me further. Anna needed to stay overnight at the hospital, but she had refused, asking instead for us to take her home.
Surprisingly, both Arthur and Max relented and let me be the one to take her to my mansion, stating they would try to clean up any loose ends for her.
Why they let me go home alone with Anna was a mystery, but I suspected they could see the anguish written all over my face.
She had nearly died today.
The Uber pulled up in the driveway and I climbed out, tugging Anna to follow me. I didn’t want to sever the connection between us, afraid that if I did, she wouldn’t really be standing beside me and I would be reliving this nightmare all over again. When word of the attack had trickled in, I had likened it to my absolute worst fucking dream.
It was still bad knowing that Johanna had been the one to take the brunt, but still, Anna looked like shit and I knew she was blaming herself for what happened.
I didn’t say anything to her as I opened the door and pulled us both in, only then releasing her hand so I could shut the door behind us with the palm of my hand, taking a moment to take a deep breath.
Her hand touched my shoulder and I physically trembled. “I couldn’t save you,” I said harshly, not facing her. “I wasn’t fucking there.”
“Royce,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around my waist, and placing her cheek on my bare back. “It’s not your fault.”
I let out a choked laugh. Here I was, taking her sympathy when she was the one who had nearly died.
God, I was a bastard.
I turned in her embrace, my eyes flickering to the bruises on her neck, just barely visible under the collar of my shirt. “Tell me what you need.”
Anna bit her lip. “I don’t know.”
I picked her up in my arms then, starting toward my bedroom. “What are you doing?” she whispered, not protesting but instead placing her head on my chest.
“I’m taking care of you,” I said gruffly as we entered my bedroom, bypassing the bed and heading straight for the shower. It was what I should have done to begin with, instead of trying to plan out her fucking life. I no longer cared about who she picked, but dammit, she would know that I loved her.
Even if I couldn’t say the words.
Chapter 18
Anna
I sat on the counter and watched as Royce started the shower, feeling both mentally and physically drained. Johanna was going to make it.
Isauros was all but gone from my life.
Now I had to make a decision about my future.
But as Royce turned toward me, I knew I didn’t need to do that right now. “Arms up,” he said roughly as he gripped the hem of his shirt.
I did as he asked, and he slipped it over my head, throwing it on the floor. With tender touches, he traced the bruises on my neck, his jaw clenching as he did so. “I’m so fucking sorry, Anna.”
I reached up and cupped his cheek. “I will be fine. It’s not permanent.”
“Still,” he growled, his nostrils flaring. “She hurt you and I wasn’t there to stop her.”
In more ways than one, but I wasn’t going to get into that. I needed so badly for him to take the pain away and replace it with something real, if only for a moment. The way he had reacted in that waiting room told me that Royce really did care about me.
All the kings cared in their own way.
But it was Royce that I cared about the most. I wanted to see that smile on his face, to feel him around me constantly. I wanted him to give me everything he had and to chase away the shadows that he had around his heart.
If only he would let me do so.
For right now, though, I reached for his pants, flicking open the button on his jeans. “Please don’t stop me.”
He pressed his forehead against my shoulder. “I have no intention of doing so.”
Thank God. I pushed at the waistband of his jeans and got them over his hips, letting them slide down the length of his tall form. His cock was already standing at attention and I gripped him, feeling him groan against my skin. “I want you,” I said, my voice thick as I traced the thick vein on his cock, one that I knew intimately well. “I want you, Royce.”
He eased away from me and in rapid succession had the rest of my clothing off and took me in his arms. I threw my arms around his neck as he carried us under the warm stream of water, the steam filling the air. “I’m going to worship every inch of your body,” he said as he set me gently down, my feet brushing the tiles. “And then I will fuck the ever-living daylights out of you, Anna.”
My heart jumped into my throat. “Yes, Royce, yes.”
He pushed me against the tiles gently, the warmth at my back as he kissed his way down my body, until the king was kneeling before me and I was writhing under his touch. “Spread your legs, pauper,” he said, kissing the inner section of my thigh.
I did as he asked, gasping as his tongue traced my already wet seam.
Oh God. Every fiber in my being went on high alert as I remembered the last time he had been here and what he had done to my body. When he touched my swollen clit, I cried out, my fingers clenching into his hair. I wanted him to make me tremble with something other than fear or sadness.
I wanted to feel free.
When he slipped a finger inside, I sobbed his name. “That’s it, pauper,” he said, his finger stroking me. “Let go.”