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At one point, I thought I’d be able to use my position to do good in the world. Fight gender inequality. Eliminate child hunger. Provide resources for victims of domestic violence.
But as I grew older, I learned the harsh reality that my duty to the crown doesn’t include making a difference. Instead, my main role is to put on a show. To give the impression I live a fairytale life. Any good we do is second to that. The illusion always comes first.
And now, that illusion includes pretending I’m madly in love with Jameson Gates so the royal household can chain us to each other for all eternity, all because he possesses the star quality the establishment deems desirable.
“Should we give them something to talk about?” Jameson leans toward me, his breath hot on my neck. “Play hard and fast with the royal household’s plan for tonight?”
I pinch my lips together in a small smirk. “And what did you have in mind?”
“This.” He brings his hand to my face, his lips descending on mine before I have a chance to stop him. I stiffen, not immediately responding to his mouth attempting to coax mine open.
This certainly wasn’t part of the plan. As Jameson’s learned over the past week, the royal household doesn’t take too kindly to any overt displays of affection like this. A touch here and there is fine, but that’s it. I can only imagine how Silas Archer and my grandmother will react when they see the videos and photos of this kiss.
Which is why I wrap my arm around Jameson’s neck, curving into him.
Like we promised when we played hooky from that first meeting. We may be pawns in the royal household’s game.
But we don’t have to play by all their rules.
Chapter Ten
Creed
“She was cute. Don’t you think?” Anderson slurs from beside me in the back of the SUV, his chief protection officer, Captain Xavier Green, navigating the mostly vacant streets after three in the morning.
To say it’s been quite a day would be putting it mildly. I’d spent the afternoon with Anderson at the football stadium, watching our hometown team beat one of the top teams in the division in an incredible fourth quarter comeback. Riding the high from the win, he wanted to celebrate with the rest of the city. So we went to a local pub, which I’m sure Xavier hated. But part of being a royal guard means catering to the last-minute whims of the royal family, most notably Anderson’s reputation for wanting to party at every possible opportunity.
And that’s precisely what Xavier did, securing an area in a local pub, then a nightclub when Anderson decided he wanted to go dancing.
Most people would love being friends with someone with these connections. Not me.
Don’t get me wrong. I love Anderson like I do my own brother.
But now that we’re both adults, things are different.
It's awkward to have the men who will be my colleagues in a few weeks offer me the same protection services I’ll soon be providing.
Like I don’t belong on this side of things.
Which is exactly what I’ve reminded myself of ever since Esme’s proposition. That I don’t belong in her world.
But as I sat in that bar, watching Anderson flirt with any female who had a pulse, I would have given anything to belong in her world, especially when footage of some black-tie charity event she was attending flashed on the large screen TVs, Jameson and Esme displayed in a passionate locking of lips.
I’ve never considered myself a resentful man. It’s a useless emotion.
But seeing them kiss on national TV, then listening to so many people in the bar comment about what a beautiful couple they made irritated me. Made me want to order an entire bottle of scotch so I could drown the pure hatred raging inside of me.
But it wouldn’t change anything.
Not now that Esme and Jameson have confirmed the rumors that have been circling over the past few weeks. They’re together. And the country is already in love with them as a couple.
Even if I weren’t to be sworn in as a member of the royal guard, I never had a chance with her. Not when she needs to be with someone like Jameson Gates.
When she deserves to be with someone like Jameson Gates.
“Which one is that?” I ask Anderson.
“The one with the long legs.”
