Anders
I’m halfway through my eggs when my phone dings.
Angie
Is this you?
Yes, it’s me. You texted me. Shouldn’t you be in bed?
Angie
No and no. It’s 9pm. And damn it, the picture didn’t load. Hold on.
I wait. After staring at my phone long enough, I put it down to finish my breakfast. My sister’s never been great with technology.
She’s a lot better with a fishing rod or a long-range rifle.
She can take down a moose and fill a freezer with salmon.
Slowly, the world’s largest file tries to download on my phone.
I grind my molars because if I tell her how to send a smaller file, she’ll tell me she knows what she’s doing and I’ll never get what she’s trying to send.
As long as it’s not about Dad. Maybe I don’t want to know anyway.
It’s a solid ten minutes, and I’m wandering up the stairs to see if Emily’s up yet when my phone buzzes in my pocket.
Angie
I can’t send it, but here’s the link. Millie at the town office’s sister-in-law Rose sent it to her. But Rose’s brother went to school with you, and he told her to send it to me so you could see it. He’s working somewhere in England.
The link comes through, and what the hell?
It’s a British tabloid. There’s at least half a dozen pictures of Oliver, with us in the background.
There’s a subtitle under each one. “Prince Damien is back to hanging around his yachtie friends. Is he dating Emily Rockwell? The tarnished heiress of Rockwell Tires and Rockwell-Harding?”
Tarnished my ass. Things like this set me right off. Emily had nothing to do with the money laundering her ex-stepmom did. She was almost killed because of it. Damn press.
There’s a picture of me dropping to a crouch pretending to tie my shoe when I told Em to leave the room because of the photographer. We should have been more careful.
I stop on the middle step at the landing. Shit. I need to show this to Thayer. I glance at my watch. It’s ten ‘til six. He’s most likely gone for the day, but I head for his office anyway.
My phone dings again.
Angie
Is it you? In the picture?
Yes. I’ll explain later.
Angie
What are you doing in England?
Going to museums.
Angie
What about the captain position?
Not taking it.
Angie
Why the hell not? This is everything you’ve always wanted.
That’s my sisters, both of them. There’s no beating around the bush with either one of them.
Thank you for letting me know. Thank Rose, Millie, and . . .
Angie
Cody.
Right. Cody.
Shit, I hate it when I can’t remember someone’s name. Doubly so now. I went to school with Cody. Twelve years of classes. We weren’t friends, but still . . .
Love you. I’ve got something to do. I’ll be in touch.
I shove my phone in my pocket, and the buzzing comes at a rapid-fire rate.
Thayer’s door isn’t locked when I barge in.
Surprisingly, he’s behind his desk, scowl in place.
There’s a phone pressed to his ear. He doesn’t look up or even hold up a finger telling me to wait.
So I toss my phone with the picture of Oliver standing dangerously close to Emily in front of him.
There’s half a dozen shots of me standing too close to her.
But I’m not the one the article’s focused on.
People like the story of a prince behaving badly. Who knew?
Thayer’s eyes skim over my phone, and he takes his hand off his keyboard to scroll through the story. “I’ve got to go,” he barks into his phone and tosses it atop a pile of folders on his desk. “Where’s Ollie?” He glares at me.
“Upstairs? I haven’t seen him yet this morning—”
“He doesn’t know?”
The door bounces open, and Oliver marches in. “We have a problem.”
Thayer holds up my phone.
“I’m working on it. Actually, the Joneses’ party will work. I’ve talked to my sister; she’s coming. It will be a distraction from Emily being associated with me.”
“Or fucking hear me out: You’re not seen in public with her again. At all. Either of you. Ryder too.” Thayer stands with his hands on his desk, his fingers spread like he’s an offensive lineman about to run a play.
“That’s not an option,” Oliver growls out.
“I’m not going to have you parading around with my fiancée. James knows enough about my college . . . habits that having you directly connected with her will cause him to doubt everything.”
“I should care, but I don’t.” Oliver crosses his arms in front of his chest. The two of them in their power suits could be arguing over a Fortune 500 company instead of the woman I love.
“I’m going with her to the party,” I insist.
“Did you read the whole article?” Thayer’s head cocks to the side.
“You didn’t, did you? This American subsidiary of the English tabloid site produced the article.
There’s a nice little section about you, how you and Emily have been seen around Miami.
This whole thing is getting fucking dangerous.
None of you can be seen with her in public anymore. ”
I stand in the same stance as Oliver, arms crossed over my chest. I don’t like it, but there’s a possibility that Thayer could be right. “I’m not trusting you or your men to protect Emily. Where she goes, I go; that was part of the deal from the beginning.”
“Was it? There’s no deal. Nothing’s in writing. It’s Emily’s safety that I think we’re all concerned about. And taking down those who need to be taken down.”
“The Whitehall family’s public relations team is going to work on it. My parents will be more than happy to squash this.”
“Having your sister come here now—”
“—will work,” Oliver says, dropping his arms and sinking into the chair across from Thayer’s desk.
“No. I’m glad you both see it my way,” Thayer says like he can bend our will by stating it his way.
“I never see things your way,” I say.
“I’m part of her security, so I’m going,” Oliver says.
I put my hand on a stack of papers on Thayer’s desk. “Same.”
Thayer blows out a breath. “Fine. But stay clear of her. No more shots of the two of you almost holding hands. This is the kind of shit that gets James going. Decorum and discretion are going to be our biggest allies if we want this to work. And we sure as hell better all want this to work, or it will be the last party we ever go to.”
“I’ll go let Ryder and Em know.”
“Anders,” Thayer calls to me as I’m at the door.
“Yeah.”
“Don’t fucking leave any more marks on my fiancée.”
“You damn well better not have seen the mark I left on her.” I raise my eyebrows, because there’s a quarter-size hickey on the inside of her thigh. The other two might just be discovering how much Emily likes a bit of pain with her pleasure, but it’s something I’ve known for a while.
Two at a time, I run up the stairs. I give a good knock on Emily’s suite door. But the hall is empty, so I open the door.
Canoodling. It’s a weird word, but that’s exactly what’s going on. Emily’s head rests on Ryder’s chest, her arm slung low across his waist. And Ryder looks down at her like she’s the reason the tides turn. And fuck me if I don’t feel the same way.
But the article bulldozes into my brain, making me stop in my tracks.
My traitorous cock is the only part not listening to reason.
I fucking hate Thayer, but he’s right. This is going to get back to James.
The games have to stop. As much as I want her to be mine, I’m not willing to risk her life for it.
“Get up,” I say to Ryder, slapping the side of his foot.
“Good morning to you too. The early bird gets the Emily.” Ryder pushes his nose into the crook of Emily’s neck.
“Ryder! Did you just compare me to a worm? You did, didn’t you?” There’s a musical tone in her voice. She’s not mad. She’s amused, and if this weren’t serious, I would be too.
“I mean it, Ryder. We’ve got problems, and you need to get out of her bed now.” My tone is low, even with my frustration at him not moving. I’m not risking raising my voice. I’m not risking anything. We’ve got to take things more seriously.
Ryder kisses the top of Emily’s head and plants his feet on the floor. “What cat pissed in your Cheerios?”
I twist my face up at the same time Emily groans, “Ew, it’s too early for that.” She turns toward me and smiles. “Is everything okay?”
“It will be—”
Emily climbs off the bed, grabbing a robe from the leather chair and covering her new nightgown. It takes a second before my brain’s able to kick back into gear.
“The photographer at the museum? There are pictures online connecting you to Oliver. He’s got his family’s people working on it. But we need to be more careful.”
Emily nods. A beam of sunshine from the lead glass window halos her hair. There are long tapestry curtains on either side of the window, but I’ve never seen them closed.
“You should get away from the window.”
“That window?” She holds her hand up. “No one can see through it. You have to go to the far panel and crane your neck around the back side of the chair and peer through the one piece of modern glass to make out anything besides blobs.”
“Cameras can do a lot.” I’m not going to bring up one of my dad’s last cases—the criminal used a high-power lens over a series of nights to get the door code to a warehouse and made off with a hundred thousand dollars’ worth of crates—because I’m not up for the jokes about Alaska. The crates contained fish.
“Okay.” Emily grabs a remote from the bedside table, and the curtains close, hiding the green glow of the spring countryside away. “Better?”
“Yes, can I continue with my good morning cuddle now? You’re welcome to join.” Emily tosses the robe off and dives back onto the bed.
“He’s going all first officer on us. So serious,” Ryder says.
“That’s Captain to you.” I sit on the side of the bed and take my shoes off while Emily dashes under the covers.
She reaches for me. “You know I’m taking this seriously.
I want to get back to the real world too.
I have things I need to do. People depend on me.
My brother and father are furious. I don’t blame them.
And afterwards? They’re going to be doubly mad.
So I’m living in the moment. Hoping and trusting that Thayer can really take down James.
And that, in the end, this will all be worth it.
That I’ll be able to know a world where James Zambrano doesn’t have any power anymore.
No power to hurt the people I love. And that he’ll know I was part of the reason he went down.
It’s the endgame. I’m trusting in the endgame.
” She yanks on my hand, and I lie down on the bed.
Her head snuggles into my shoulder. Our chests rise and lower in unison.
She lifts her head. “The endgame is the most important. But I’m not going to mope around the .
. . castle. Not when I can have some fun.
” She taps the tip of my nose. “I’ve seen you having fun, Anders.
I know you’re capable.” She rolls over onto her back.
“You’re the eternal optimist, Em.” Ryder laughs and puts his shoes on.
“That’s me.” She stretches her arms wide, one across my chest and the other across the empty bed.
She rolls back, hovering above me. “Boop.” She pushes on my nose.
“I hear what you’re saying, Anders, and I will take it more seriously.
We can be quiet. Have more alibis. I’m not sure what we’re doing, only that it makes me feel alive, and good.
And really, really confused. But I’m leaning into that. I’m channeling my inner . . . Lilith.”
Ryder smirks at me, and we both know she was thinking of Haley but couldn’t say it.
I know I couldn’t compare myself to my brother-in-law.
But then, he’s an asshole and no longer with my sister April.
He knew he was going to leave her all along.
I’ll die on that hill. It’s the reason he moved them to California.
He was afraid my dad would hurt him and make his life hell if they were still living in Alaska.
Dad would have, so maybe the bastard isn’t that dumb.
“Can you try to have some fun?” she asks me.
“Can you promise to be careful?”
“Yes, I’m a careful person.” She reaches for my nose, but I grab her hand and kiss her palm.
There are lots of adjectives I would use to describe Emily: kind, courageous, fearless, beautiful, and giving. Careful? Careful has never entered the palette of descriptor words I’d make for Emily.
Her eyes flash at me as I press a second kiss on her palm. I cover her hands with mine. “Have you thought about what you want for your birthday?”
“Since freedom’s not a choice, no. I don’t need presents.”
Ryder furrows his brow, first at me and then at Emily. “Birthday? When’s your birthday?”
“The man with the steel-trap memory?” I raise my eyebrow at him.
“I would remember. I’ve never been told.”
“June 14th.”
I know the perfect thing to get her.