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Sure, I’ve been kissed before, but even with Troy, it always felt like I had to do so with one eye open. I never fully trusted that the man kissing me would treat me with the kind of dignity I deserved, so I never allowed myself to fully let go. But Frederick has always treated me like a princess—not the kind I am, with royal blood flowing through my veins, but the kind any woman is—and I just know I’m safe with him.
I close my eyes and let loose the hum vibrating inside of me with a deep sigh of pleasure, contentment. Joy.
Frederick pulls back, and my eyes flit open.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Nothing.” He takes a clump of my wet tangled hair, running his fingers along it with a look of pure awe on his face. “You’re just so beautiful. So regal. You belong up on some pedestal. I … I don’t want you to have to step down into the mud to be with me.”
“A pedestal’s a lonely place to be,” I whisper while the rain patters the leaves over our heads. “And that’s not the life I want.”
“But you deserve more than me. More than the stain my family name will surely bring you.”
“I don’t care about all that. I know your father is innocent. Topher does too.”
“But what about your father?”
“We’ll deal with that later. Right now, more kissing, please.”
He laughs, but there’s pain rimming his eyes. “There’s more.”
“Then tell me.”
He studies me, his eyes following the contours of my face, down my cheeks to my lips and back to my eyes. “Chloe, I’m the reason my brother is dead. And I just … I don’t want you to get hurt too.”
His eyes widen, like he can’t believe he just told me that. Frederick takes a step away from me. He’s expecting me to be shocked, I think, but I’m not—mostly because I know it can’t be true. Though I’m surehebelieves that’s the case.
I tug him over to a tree stump nearby. “Sit.”
He’s stoic, and I can see in his eyes that he’s already erecting the wall back between our hearts. Nope. Not happening. I simply won’t allow it.
So I lower myself onto his lap.
He groans. “Princess—”
“I’ll brook no argument from you, peasant.”
That draws a chuckle from him, and he finally puts his arms around my waist, leaning in to set his mouth against my bare shoulder. I probably should have worn a jacket with my camisole, but I regret nothing in this moment.
“Yes, Your Royal Highness,” he whispers into my skin.
“That’s better.” I somehow manage to say this without a waver in my voice, because the sensations his nearness are generating make me want to twirl and forget this need to talk. Bravo to me. “Now.” I place my hands on top of his and lean back against his chest. “Tell me.”
He sighs, but doesn’t need any more direction to understand what I mean. “Matthew died because …” A pause. The rain’s calmer now, a soft and steady trilling against the ground. “Matthew was everything he was supposed to be. Intelligent. Charismatic. A born leader, the natural heir to take over my father’s duties as advisor someday.”
I snuggle against him, remind him I’m there.
“He was seven years older than me, but he was my best friend. He always had time for me, even with his studies. He knew how much I dreamed of traveling, which is why he offered to take me anywhere I wanted to go for my twelfth birthday.” His hold around me tightens. “I chose Machu Picchu. Peru.”
“Oh, Freddy.” Tears well in my eyes for the little boy inside of him. The one who blames himself for what was surely an accident.
He inhales a sharp breath. “It was just the two of us, brothers off to see the world and have an adventure. And that’s all it would have been … if not for the rain.”
The rain.
I gasp and turn. “I didn’t know.”
“I know you didn’t.” He swallows. “The rain made the trail slick, but Matthew was an expert hiker. Me, on the other hand … I was so excited to get to the top of the big mountain. And I took a turn too quickly, slipped …”
