Tonight, I'd give the duke whatever fantasy he was after. I'd be the perfect date—paying attention, showing off my skills, keeping it professional.
And maybe I'd get another peek at whatever was hiding behind that perfect mask of his.
Chapter 7
Ricard
The evening shadows stretched across the villa's polished floors as I nursed my bourbon, the smoky warmth reminiscent of the centuries-old royal reserves we opened each year for the Autumn Solemnity in Avaline. Julius' words from our conversation earlier lingered in my mind like unwelcome guests. Family duty. Responsibility. Legacy. The weight of these expectations had followed me even to this sanctuary of indulgence.
“You can't run forever, Ricard,” Julius had said, his voice carrying that paternal tone he'd perfected over the years. “Your brother's actions have consequences that extend beyond himself.”
Remy, forever the source of my troubles, yet still blood of my blood. My older brother, the crown prince, the heir—and the architect of our family's current crisis. The traditional Ceremony of Fidelity that he and Helene had performed before the entire country six years ago now seemed a mockery considering his indiscretions.
“Scandal is nothing new to royalty,” I'd countered. “The public will forget.”
But even as I said it, I knew times had changed. Avaline might maintain its old-world charm for tourists, with our medieval festivals and ceremonial changing of the palace guard, but our citizens increasingly questioned the relevance of a monarchy in the modern world. My grandfather's generation could have weathered a dozensuch scandals with nothing more than a stern press release from the Royal Communications Office. Now, each misstep was debated on social media, weakening the already fragile foundation of tradition that supported our family's position.
Julius had fixed me with that penetrating stare that had intimidated diplomats and royals alike. “This is different, and you know it. The media won't let this up. The monarchy itself is at stake.”
I set my glass down harder than intended on the marble countertop. Even here, thousands of miles from Avaline, I couldn't escape the shadow of duty.
What would Father say if he could see me now?The thought came unbidden, unwelcome. The King of Avaline would hardly approve of his second son hiding away in a luxury sex resort while the monarchy teetered on the brink. But then, Father never understood me, had never tried to see beyond the duty he'd instilled in both his sons.
One son who had embraced freedom too recklessly. Another who had buried his desires too deeply.
A hollow ache spread through my chest as I stared out at the horizon. The bourbon wasn't helping. If anything, it was making the emptiness more pronounced, highlighting the void rather than filling it.
What I needed was...
The doorbell chimed, startling me from my reverie. I glanced at my watch—seven o'clock. I hadn't realized how much time had passed since my conversation with Julius.
Setting down my glass, I moved toward the entrance, a curious anticipation replacing the melancholy. The prospect of company, of distraction, suddenly seemed like what I needed to silence the voices.
I knew who it would be, of course. I'd reserved him myself earlier, after seeing him ogled by half the men at the pool. The jealousy that had flared within me had been surprising in its intensity.
Possessive. Primal. Entirely unbecoming of a duke.
I opened the door, and my breath caught in my throat.
Theo stood before me, naked save for his thin robe. His body was illuminated by the warm glow of the porch light, highlighting every curve, every plane, every inch of exposed skin, his soft cock nestled in a thatch of dark hair.
His eyes met mine with a boldness that sent heat coursing through me. “Your Grace,” he said, his voice low and husky.
I stood frozen for a moment, drinking in the sight of him. “Good evening,” I managed, stepping aside to allow him entry.
He walked into my villa with the grace of someone comfortable in their own skin. I closed the door behind him, the soft click of the latch sounding unnaturally loud in the charged silence between us.
“Would you care for a drink?” I asked, my voice rougher than I intended.
“No.” Theo turned to face me, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “I'm here for your pleasure, Your Grace. Whatever you desire.”
The formal address stirred something within me, a reminder of who I was beyond these walls, of the power I wielded. Yet there was something in his tone, a subtle challenge perhaps, that suggested he wasn't entirely docile.
Everything about him drew me in, making me forget, if only momentarily, about Avaline, about Remy, about the responsibilities that awaited my return. The weight of my title, so burdensome moments ago, now felt like an advantage, a source of power in this dynamic between us.
I moved closer to him, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his bare skin. With deliberate slowness, I traced a fingertip along his jawline, down the column of his throat, feeling his pulse quicken beneath my touch. His skin was smooth, warm, alive. “I want to tie you up before we fuck. Is that acceptable?”
His eyes, those expressive eyes, widened, revealing surprise before he quickly masked it. “Yes, Your Grace.”
