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This was the most forward August had ever been with me. Sure, we cuddled on occasion, and we had a disastrous first kiss when we were young. But something had changed recently, and I didn’t know how to navigate it. He dropped to his knees in front of me, with Leo watching us in the corner. I locked eyes with the bodyguard and saw his heated emerald stare drinking in the scene before him. He was always meant to be a quiet enforcer, a fly on the wall watching over his charge, but I felt his presence in my soul.
August stole my attention when he placed his hand under my pale pink dress and trailed his fingers up my calf. “You don’t want fucking Atticus. I bet I could find more proof if I just…” His thumb moved higher and higher, seeking my inner thigh before just barely grazing my wet core. “…drenched…so wet for me, baby.”
I let out a startled gasp. The sound was needy and laced with lust.
Leo started coughing loudly, making both August and me jump. He pulled his hand from my dress, and I ducked my head in shame, embarrassed that Leo saw how quickly I melted at August’s touch.
The prince then stood and lifted his hand to his mouth, lightly sucking the tip of his finger with a groan. “Delicious. Go back to studying, beautiful.”
He swayed out of the library, and my heart broke a little despite the excitement coursing through my veins. I couldn’t help but feel like a joke to August. None of this was real. It wasn’t permanent. He toyed with me until I was nothing more than endless wanting, a cup overflowing.
And I suppose I smiled at our little hoax, too. All the best jokes made even the hopeless crack a grin.
I was nostalgic for love that was doomed.
Chapter Two
My corset was so tight I could barely breathe, the crushing material pulling my ribs so firmly that my hourglass figure looked unnatural. I hated the royal stylist and the clothes they made us wear. There was something oppressive about the long gowns, curled hair, and tight bodice they forced on us. I preferred the skirt, knee-high socks, and button-down shirt at the academy. In two days’ time, we’d be back at school, back in our dorms, back to slipping into the shadows and staring longingly while August shined brightly in the spotlight. It wasn’t his fault that the entire world was eager to watch him. It was the allure of the royal family. The power was intoxicating and fascinating to many. It was all costumes, politics, and social ladder climbing.
I felt both part of this world and not of it. I had a title and the royal family’s adoration. Queen Isabelle wouldn’t have taken me in if she didn’t feel affection for my late mother. But no one ever wanted to be my friend for me. I was viewed as a stepping stone to something greater. I stopped making friends with other girls because they just wanted me to introduce them to August. Guys who wanted to date me were intimidated by the crown prince. They didn’t appreciate having their egos compared to literal royalty—not that I could ever love them back.
My heart belonged to another.
I scanned the crowd, my eyes lingering on Lord Geralt, who was on the other side of the ballroom, staring at me like I was a piece of chocolate he wanted to unwrap. I never really felt like I belonged at royal events, despite my title. All the lords and ladies were too ambitious, too deceitful.
“You look beautiful tonight, Christine,” Atticus said while sipping his drink. We stood like wallflowers, observing the charity banquet with boredom. Even though our school was less than an hours drive from the castle, they treated August’s return like he was home from war. Events every night, social calls, charity banquets. A vacation was never truly a vacation.
“This dress is extremely uncomfortable,” I groaned.
He looked over at me and grinned. “It pushes your tits up nicely, though.” I slapped his arm. The flirtatious Atticus had grown more aggressive this year, but I had no idea how to handle it.
He sighed. “I’m ready to go back to school. My father has me working every day. The second I graduate, I’m going full time at his business.”
I swallowed. “Which business? He owns so many.”
A haunted shadow crossed his features. I’d heard many rumors about the DuPonts, but nothing had ever been confirmed. He kept his secrets close to his chest, and I respected him for it. I just wished I understood.
“All of them.”
I turned to him and grabbed his arm. “Do you want to?”
He threaded his fingers through mine, and a wandering photographer snapped a photo of us just before he replied. “My family is addicted to power and influence. I never really saw the appeal. But I suppose it has its benefits.”
“Like what?” I asked, feeling the warmth of his hand and wondering if we were crossing a line.
“You seem to like powerful men.”
I shook my head. “That’s not—”
“You’ll need someone who can protect you. Provide for you. Give you the fucking world, Christine. If I want to do that, I have to make sacrifices. It doesn’t matter if I want a role in my father’s organization. I want you, and that’s all that matters.”
“Atticus…” Emotion traveled up my throat. His words had a strange effect on me. The closer we got, the more muddled my heart became.
“I’m a patient man, Christine Abernathy,” he whispered, letting me know in a few words that he’d happily wait to realize I loved him back. But I wasn’t sure I’d ever come to those terms. He looked around for a moment, then pulled me toward a shadowed corner of the ballroom. He blocked me from view with his towering body, pressing me against the wall.
“Wh-what are you doing?” I choked out.
“What I’ve wanted to do since the moment I met you.” Our lips were just a breath apart. Part of me wanted to press my palms against his chest and shove him away, but there was a morbid curiosity swirling in my gut. “Just a taste. Just something to show you what we could be…”
