Chapter 11
Eleven
Daphne
Caliran night yacht parties were unmatched.
Salt spray drifted across the open deck as the yacht rocked gently against the dock. Music hummed from the speakers, loud enough to dance to but quiet enough not to wake up anyone who’d make us shut the party down.
Elodie and Vittoria had come with me. Vittoria had already disappeared to find her friends.
“Here!” Elodie called, weaving through a cluster of guys with two glasses of rosé on ice balanced above her head.
When none of them bothered moving, she accidentally sloshed wine across one of their shirts.
“Fucking bitch,” one muttered as the group stepped aside.
“Move next time then,” she shot back.
She finally reached me and handed over a glass. “Go easy on it, okay?”
I paused my dancing and stuck out my lower lip. “That sounds boring.”
She took one look at me, then at the rosé in my hand. “Do you remember the last party we attended on this yacht? We are not having a repeat.”
I tapped my chin, pretending not to remember.
I do remember. And it’s bad.
A week after my father went to prison, I’d gotten drunk, made out with some random guy, then puked over the side of the yacht before Elodie dragged me back to the castle.
Grandfather had been thrilled when he heard that story the next day.
“I haven’t gotten that drunk since that night,” I said, clinking my glass against hers. “It was a very effective learning experience.”
Elodie glanced over my shoulder. “I’m afraid it’ll happen because he’s here.”
I turned to follow her stare.
Brooks leaned against the railing like the yacht belonged to him, ankles crossed and a drink hanging loosely from his hand. The wind tossed his hair across his forehead, making him look annoyingly good.
He caught me staring almost instantly. As if he’d been waiting for me to notice him, he lifted his glass in a slow, mocking toast.
Asshole.
“Why the hell is he here?” I didn’t even realize I’d drained my drink until it was gone.
“For you, obviously,” Elodie answered.
“No, he isn’t.”
“Girl, come on. I have eyes and brains.”
“I’ll just ignore him. Act like he isn’t here.”
Sure, Daphne.
Because that worked so well every other time.
“I’ll take that not happening for two hundred dollars.” She paused, drink almost to her lips. “Isn’t that the saying in the States?”
“You know pop culture better than me.” I bumped her with my shoulder, staring into my glass and wishing it’d magically refill itself. “That’s why you should come to the States with me.”
“My future is here.” Her smile turned sad before she brightened up. “But, hey, at least we have pretty views and yacht parties.”
“True.”
“Besides, you’ll be back here soon.” She tilted her chin toward Brooks. “Now, let’s return to our current problem. The man is staring you down like a shark ready to attack.”
“That’s his usual stare when it comes to me.” I waved a hand and turned my back to him. “Nothing new.”
She shook her head. “You two are like watching a chess match between two horny psychos. If gambling were legal here, I’d put every cent I had that this party would end with one of you drowning the other.”
“If that’s the case, Poseidon is about to have a new male friend.”
Elodie stole my glass—that now only had ice—from my hand. “Which means no more alcohol for you. Water only.”
Groaning, I threw my head back. “We’re at a party. The only water here is below us, and that’s not hydrating.”
“Eat the ice then.”
“Boo!” I grabbed the glass back before she could stop me and sucked an ice cube from it, crunching it loudly with zero elegance of a princess.
The second Elodie looked away, I stole another glance at Brooks.
At least, I tried to.
“No! Bad princess!” she fake scolded.
A group of girls stopped to talk to us, blocking my view of Brooks, but I didn’t hear a damn word they said.
I answered everything with, “Yeah,” and, “Mm-hm,” and hoped neither response accidentally agreed to something important, like giving away a kidney.
When they wandered off, I looked back at Brooks and knew I needed another drink. He had his arm wrapped around Vittoria’s waist. Her hand was on his chest. Right where it didn’t belong.
Vittoria threw her head back like he’d just delivered the joke of the century.
Such a lie.
Brooks never said anything funny.
His sense of humor was the equivalent of overdue bills.
Brooks caught me watching and deliberately brushed a strand of Vittoria’s hair behind her ear, letting his fingers linger against her tiara.
Oh, yeah, another reason to be pissed at him.
He’d thieved my tiara.
I crammed two more ice cubes into my mouth and chewed them like I wanted to do with Brooks’s bones.
Elodie snapped her fingers in front of my face, breaking my stare. “He’s trying to piss you off, and it’s working.”
Of course it was working. It always worked.
I swallowed the last of the ice, handed my glass off to Elodie, and started walking.
“Oh no. This is not good,” she said behind me.
I scanned the crowd until I found the perfect guy to make Brooks jealous. He wore a white linen shirt half unbuttoned, had dark hair pulled into a ponytail, and was handsome enough to get the job done.
I went straight for him. “Wanna dance?”
His friends immediately started elbowing him and grinning.
He grinned. “Name’s Toby.”
“Daph—”
“Everyone knows who you are, Princess.”
I glared at him for interrupting but shook his extended hand anyway.
He jerked me toward him, then led me toward the dance floor just as a Pitbull song came on.
We danced, but I couldn’t have told you a thing about Toby.
He could’ve grown a second head behind me, and I wouldn’t have noticed.
Brooks was standing too close to Vittoria.
His hand was still at her waist.
I hated that I imagined it was his body pressed against mine and not Toby’s.
His mouth at my ear. His erection hardening against my ass.
Brooks’s hand left Vittoria’s waist before he walked away from her.
My hips stopped moving.
Is he leaving?
I searched the crowd but lost sight of him. I was two seconds from leaving Toby and hunting his ass down when a hand closed around my arm from behind and yanked me away from Toby.
I knew that someone’s touch. Brooks had manhandled me enough over the years that my body could identify him before my eyes could.
Not wanting to make a scene in front of everyone, I repeated last night’s mistake and let him drag me away.
It seemed nearly dying hadn’t taught me much.
He pulled me into a shadowy corner behind the upper staircase, where stacked lounge chairs blocked us from the party. The music dulled behind them.
My Toby Experiment worked perfectly.
“What’d I tell you about other men touching you?” Brooks shoved me against the railing.
I pushed at his chest, but he didn’t move.
His nostrils flared as he stared down at me.
“Men who dangle me over cliffs have no say in my life,” I told him. “I’ll grind my ass against whoever I want to grind my ass against.”
He spun me around and pulled me flush against him, just like I’d been with Toby. “You mean like this?” He settled his hands on my waist and rolled his hips against my ass.
His erection dug into me, thicker and harder than Toby’s had been. I couldn’t stop myself from moaning.
Damn him.
He gripped my waist harder. “God, you fucking drive me crazy.”
I yelped, then covered my mouth when he slapped my ass.
He crowded me tighter, his chest pressing into my back as he brushed my hair off my shoulder. “You’re lucky we’re in public.”
I rocked my ass against him, loving the way he groaned. “Why?”
“Because I’d punish that half-shirt-wearing motherfucker, then you. I’d cut off his hand”—he paused to ram his hips forward—“then his dick.”
“You’re not keeping your hands to yourself.”
“You want to cut Vittoria’s hand off? Go ahead. It won’t bother me.”
I looked out over the dark water, still rolling my hips against him.
For someone I’d just called a maniac, I was doing an embarrassingly bad job of getting away from him. At this rate, I’d end up bent over the railing for him.
“Of course I don’t want to cut off her hand,” I hissed. “I’m not a maniac, like you.”
“Tragic.” He lowered his chin to my shoulder and clicked his tongue. “I like when my Fawns show ownership.”
“Too bad I’m not your Fawn.”
“You will be soon.” He gave my ass another slap. “Now go back to your room.”
“I don’t take orders from you. I’m staying here and dancing with all the hot guys.”
Before I could move, he spun me around.
Riiiiip.
My dress split straight down the middle. Cool air hit skin that definitely hadn’t been exposed seconds ago.
I looked down to find my corset sagged open. A strapless nude bra was all that covered my chest. I was now half naked on a yacht. Great.
“What the hell, Brooks!”
“That’ll stop you from dancing with all the hot guys.”
I shoved him hard enough to make him stumble before peeling the ruined dress the rest of the way off.
“Being almost naked won’t stop me.” I kicked the dress aside. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go find Cory. Maybe he’ll help me take the rest off.”
Brooks closed the distance before I could react. He hooked his fingers into the center of my bra and ripped it apart. My breasts spilled free.
For once, he shut the hell up.
He froze, still clutching the torn piece of my bra between us. He pressed his tongue into his cheek.
My nipples tightened, and the bra slipped from his fingers.
“The princess isn’t allowed to wander around naked.” His voice came out rougher than before. “Terrible for the royal image.”
He flicked my nipple.
Goose bumps scattered across my skin.
He brushed his knuckles against the underside of my breast. “I want to bend you over this railing and fuck you so hard.”
I bared my teeth at him while silently begging my body to remember that this was the same asshole who’d dangled me over a cliff last night.
It seemed my vagina had a short-term memory problem because part of me still wanted to drop to my knees and find out exactly how hard he was for me.
“I’d rather jump over this railing,” I forced myself to say.
His hand dropped from my breast. “Funny. You weren’t that brave about falling in the water last night.”
“You were also too chickenshit to throw me in.”
He stepped closer. “You keep pushing me, and I will.”
“Lies. You’re too obsessed with making me your Fawn to throw me overboard.” I tried to slip around him, but he blocked my path.
I batted my lashes at him. “Now move. Cory’s waiting for me.”
My little performance didn’t last long.
One second, my feet were on the deck.
The next, Brooks grabbed me around the waist.
Oh, shit.
He tossed me over the railing.
My hip hit the railing before I plunged into the sea. Salt water shot up my nose when I went under. I came up choking and forgot how to breathe.
Gasping for air, I shoved my wet hair from my face as the yacht lights blurred above me.
Brooks leaned over the railing and called out, “Let’s hope there aren’t any sharks down there.”
I’m going to fucking kill him.