Chapter 6
It’s your own fault, my inner voice keeps scolding me, over and over again, because I’m angry about her reaction. Which makes no sense at all.
My gaze keeps drifting to Amelia, who sits silently, staring out the window of the royal limousine with an expressionless face. She is breathtakingly beautiful.
What I said earlier wasn’t entirely unfounded. When I saw her in that dress, which highlighted every inch of her body and was both incredibly sexy and elegant, I had to swallow hard. The sight of her nearly knocked me off my feet.
She’s been ignoring me since we left, and damn it, this time she’s actually right. I provoked her, I pushed her buttons, and my last comment definitely crossed the line. I have to admit that. She deserved to land that blow, and I have to admit that she aimed very well.
Her words remind me of how unreachable the goal of stepping into Phil’s shoes truly is. How unfit and incapable I am for that role.
The stabbing pain in my chest is unbearable, and in this moment, I miss my big brother more than anything else.
And the jealousy I feel toward Amelia is a dark, poisonous thing burning through my veins.
She got to spend so much time with him and was with him in his final moments.
I, once again, was off selfishly doing my own thing, not realizing I’d lose my brother forever.
It gnaws at me, consumes me, and I can’t do anything to stop it.
“Did he suffer?” That question has haunted me the entire time, but I was too proud to ask. Even now, I don’t really want to say it, but the words slip out before I can stop them. Amelia’s gaze shifts to me, and she slowly turns in her seat to face me.
Fuck, this woman is stunning. I can’t believe I was so blind not to notice it until now. Her blue eyes search mine. For a moment, the world stands still, and I sink into those deep oceans that look straight into my soul. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t look away.
“I don’t know. He… he was unconscious. I…” She falters, swallows, and closes her eyes briefly, gathering herself. I’m tempted to say, “Don’t. It’s okay,” but I hold back.
“I was trapped. My seatbelt wouldn’t come undone, and I held his hand. I talked to him, but… but he didn’t respond anymore. There… there was so much blood.” She doesn’t go on; she doesn’t have to, because I already know what she’s trying to tell me.
A tear runs down her cheek, and I have to fight the urge to pull her onto my lap and hold her tightly in my arms.
My gut twists at the thought that my brother may have suffered, but I also realize what Amelia went through. That feels awful. Really awful. Up until now, I had managed to block that part of the story out.
“So I don’t know if he suffered. Only that I couldn’t help him.
” Her last words come out so bitter and full of guilt that it stabs right through my chest, and the urge to protect and comfort her overwhelms me.
But I hold myself back. I only clench my hand into a fist, open it again, and look at Amelia.
“You couldn’t have done anything. He had severe internal and external injuries. Even if the rescue team had arrived sooner, there was no way to help him,” I answer emotionlessly. Again, she closes her eyes briefly, then turns her head to the window and completely looks away from me.
Don’t. Look at me. Just look at me again, a part of me screams, and it feels like my skin no longer fits and the walls of the car are pressing in on me.
She confuses me. My reaction to her confuses me.
It hurts. Looking at Amelia tears open the wound inside me a little more each time, and that’s why I want her to stay away from me.
I don’t want her near me. At the same time, the urge to pull her close and feel her is almost unbearable. And I hate it.
Frustrated, I press my fingers against the bridge of my nose and take a deep breath.
“The press will swoop down on us like vultures any second now. Are you sure you can handle it?” My question comes out sharper than I meant, but my nerves are shot, and her cold attitude is driving me insane.
But I get what I want. There they are, those piercing blue eyes, locked on me with a cold, angry glare.
“I am well aware of that, Nicolas. Yes, I can handle it. You don’t need to worry about your or your family’s reputation, Your Highness,” she replies, slightly annoyed. Of course, she will master it; I have no doubt about that, because she has been trained to perfection.
We arrive at Harlington Hall, the grand event and meeting venue in Harlington City, where tonight’s charity gala for the local children’s hospice will be held.
The entire place is brightly lit, with the red carpet unfurled all the way to the entrance of the grand centuries-old uilding.
Crowds line the barricades, and dozens of photographers and reporters swarm the entrance.
Amelia straightens beside me, and I follow suit, sitting up taller.
Now it’s getting serious.
The limousine rolls up to the carpet, and Gerald, one of our royal drivers, steps out and opens my door. The flashbulbs go off the moment I step out, blinding me for a moment, but I quickly recover and walk around the car to reach Amelia.
Damn, I hate all this fuss. Still, I paste on my most charming smile and throw a knowing wink at the nearest female reporter, who immediately blushes.
When I offer Amelia my hand to help her out of the car, her stunning appearance hits me like a blow once again.
Her small hand settles in mine, and as she steps out with elegance and grace, she smiles at me warmly and openly. Her eyes shine and sparkle, almost burning into mine, making it hard to breathe and forcing me to fight the urge to stare with my mouth agape.
Fuck.
I want this woman. I want this smile.
Always.
I’m completely screwed when she looks up at me with those soft, blue eyes. The crowd cheers and voices swirl around us, but I tune them all out.
What I don’t ignore is how my arm possessively wraps around Amelia’s waist and pulls her close.
What I don’t ignore is the electric shock that runs through me when I feel her against my body, the chill running down my spine and the tingling that makes me want to pull her even closer.
What I don’t ignore is how she leans into me and places a hand on my heart which is pounding wildly beneath her touch and feels like it could burst out of my chest any second.
What I don’t ignore is how she keeps smiling at me, lovingly, as if I were the center of her world.
Double fuck.
Because that’s exactly what I want to be. I want to be that center.
“Prince Nicolas, is Lady Amelia your new girlfriend?”
“Are you a couple now?”
“Will you officially introduce yourselves as a couple this evening?”
The voices get louder, and I grow more possessive. With a jerk, I pull Amelia even closer, causing her eyes to widen briefly, and lean down toward her.
“Showtime, Goldilocks. Let’s show them what they want to see,” I whisper close to her mouth, and before I know what I’m doing, I press my lips to hers.
Showing the world who she belongs to. Making my stance clear, one I didn’t even know I had until just now.
And fuck, she smells and tastes absolutely amazing.
The kiss is chaste, no more than my lips on hers, and yet I’m lost, and screwed.
Absolutely screwed. Slowly and reluctantly, I pull away from her, looking into her completely dazed eyes that are only now clearing again.
I tune out the flashing lights and noise around me, keeping my focus solely on her.
She looks at me, confused, and a mischievous joy spreads inside me. Apparently, I’m not the only one having some trouble here.
“In love. Don’t forget that, Goldilocks.” With a devilish smile on my lips, I turn to the crowd, holding Amelia, who says nothing but still stays close to me.
“Prince Nicolas, how are you?”
“We’d like a brief statement, Prince Nicolas. Is it true that…”
I raise my hand to interrupt the reporters.
“Now, now, you know how this goes. No interviews. And now I’m going to enjoy the gala with my lovely companion. Have a pleasant evening.” With that, I gently but firmly guide Amelia toward the entrance, paying no further attention to the crowd.
“Whore.”
“Freeloader.”
“Title-chaser.”
“Amelia, how does it feel to screw the other brother even though Prince Philipp isn’t cold yet? Don’t you feel ashamed?” a few idiots yelled from the crowd behind the reporters.
That last one makes me falter for a split second, and Amelia beside me sharply inhales. I clench my teeth to keep my expression neutral, even though I want to tear someone apart.
A wave of irrational fury rises in me, begging to find the person who shouted that. I want to protect Amelia, but I do the only right thing. I keep pushing her forward and ignore it.
“This is going to be a disaster,” she mutters under her breath as we reach the lobby, safely away from the press.
“Only if you lose control. So pull yourself together. We’ve got this,” I reply curtly. She throws me a quick, venomous glance before putting that breathtaking smile back on.
Damn, she’s good.
The royal security spreads out, since inside the hall the highest security level is in place, and I don’t need them glued to me anymore. I can finally relax a little.
Still, I don’t let go of Amelia. My arm stays firmly around her waist, and to my surprise, she doesn’t resist. She plays along as if she needs my support. And seeing all the gawking faces around us, I almost understand it.
The entire nobility, the high society of Harlington, is gathered here. All of them are watching us with more or less veiled curiosity.
Fantastic.
“It’s like we’re a novelty act they’ve never seen before. God, I hate this,” Amelia mutters in disgust beside me, and I have to bite back a laugh.
“Baby, we are a novelty act. I’ve never brought a woman to a public event before.
You have the honor of being the first.” I wink at her, as she looks up at me in shock, which only makes me grin.
But as acquaintances of her late father approach us, she straightens and turns on that thousand-watt smile again.
She fools them all.
And she’s breathtakingly beautiful while doing it.
We play our roles, greet everyone, and when my father gives his speech and announces our engagement, we receive many congratulations, along with plenty of skeptical, wary looks. Amelia doesn’t flinch once, which is sadly impressive. How hard must they have trained her to make her this flawless?
Once the official part is over, we mingle with the guests. Even now, my future wife keeps her mask on.
“Amelia, my dear, you look enchanting. And you even got my son to dress properly.” My father’s voice is like a bucket of ice water, and I tense up immediately as he approaches us with Minister St. Claire, Damien’s father, and the city’s mayor, Robert Sterling. My stomach knots, and I want to run.
“Father. Gentlemen.” I nod at them with a tight, practiced smile and pull Amelia, who has visibly stiffened, a little closer, as she also greets them with a friendly but reserved smile.
“Brace yourselves. The press will be all over you like vultures now that the news of your engagement is out. And Nicolas…” My father gives me a sober, emotionless look, and I meet it evenly, waiting to hear what he’ll say.
“Behave yourself. Tonight is important and in honor of your brother’s foundation. Don’t forget that.”
A sharp stab hits my chest. Of course, how could I forget? It is my brother’s foundation.
Wrong, I want to scream. It’s mine. But I hold it in. Still, the bitterness lingers. So does the pain and this unbearable black void that’s slowly eating me alive from the inside.
“Don’t worry, Your Majesty. I won’t bring shame to you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, my fiancée would like a drink.” Without waiting for Amelia’s reaction, I take her hand and steer her toward the bar, where I spot Cedric.
I need to get out of here.
“I didn’t know I wanted a drink, but fine, let’s go to the bar,” she says dryly, and I barely hold back a smirk.
“Don’t tell me you would’ve preferred the company of those three,” I say with a raised eyebrow, and she wrinkles her lovely nose.
“Ugh, God, no. I’d rather put up with you,” she mutters in disgust, and this time I really laugh as I navigate us through the crowd to reach Cedric.
“You’re more entertaining than I thought, Goldilocks. Maybe tonight won’t be so boring after all.”
I smirk at her and greet Cedric as we arrive. He eyes our linked hands skeptically. I immediately let go of her, and she now throws me a look like I’ve completely lost my mind. Shit, maybe I have. I’m certainly close to losing it.
“I need a drink.” That’s all I say before Cedric bursts out laughing and greets Amelia with a kiss on the hand. I watch the exchange with skepticism, and I don’t like it. What’s worse is how much I don’t like it. It seriously pisses me off.
But I don’t get the chance to react.
“Nicolas, baby. There you are,” comes an all-too-familiar voice behind me, and Amelia stiffens instantly.
Damn. This is bad.
Sarah shoves Amelia aside rather roughly, and Amelia actually rolls her eyes in irritation before stepping away.
“Watch it, you klutz,” Sarah hisses, full of venom, and I want to smash her head into the nearest wall. Why did I ever sleep with her? She can’t be serious. Just as I’m about to step in, my Goldilocks beats me to it, and I have to fight to keep a straight face.
“It’s so lovely to see you too, Sarah. Sadly, I don’t have time to listen to your pointless chatter. I’m off to find Lizzy. See you later, darling.” She throws me a cool glance, turns on her heel, and walks away. Just like that, she leaves me alone with this woman. Doesn’t even blink.
Stunned and blindsided, I watch her go, then glance at Cedric, who’s clearly struggling not to laugh. I turn my gaze back to Goldilocks as she saunters off through the crowd, swaying her hips. And she actually leaves me standing there.
Is she fucking serious right now?