Royally Unexpected: An Accidental Pregnancy Collection Page 21

  Besides, my hair is dyed a rainbow of pastel colors, and Theresa is right—it does need a refresh. Sighing, I give in. She’s told me something, at least. I can look into Lady Malerie, the King’s sister. Maybe that will give me some clues as to where I come from, why my family was thrown out of Farcliff, and where this whole idea of a curse came from.

  Aunt Theresa throws her arm around my shoulder and leads me out of the café just as my two other aunts, Helen and Margie, come screeching down the street in my orange Jeep. Helen has a bright blue headscarf on, paired with oversized glasses, and Margie’s long mane of silver hair whips wildly around her head. They whoop and holler toward us as everyone on the street turns to stare.

  Theresa tugs me toward the Jeep and I let a smile slide over my lips. My aunts taught me to live a loud, happy, colorful life. They were the best guardians I could have asked for—but I can’t keep shying away from the questions that plague me. I can’t keep living in fear of a curse that might not even exist.

  I need to know where I come from, and what happened with my family all those years ago.

  2

  Damon

  My brother almost knocks my bedroom door down as he barges through it.

  “I need your help.” His eyebrows are drawn together and his forehead is creased. I’ve never seen him like this before.

  I tuck my pencil behind my ear and turn away from my notes and textbooks. Studying can wait—Charlie’s in trouble.

  Charlie takes a deep breath. “Father thinks I’m dating Dahlia Raventhal.”

  “Dahlia Raventhal?” I frown. I didn’t even know there was a Raventhal in Farcliff.

  He nods. “Yeah.”

  “The daughter of Tabitha Raventhal?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “The woman who got thrown out of the Kingdom after Mom died?”

  “Yeah, that one.”

  “And why does Father think you’re dating her daughter?”

  Charlie sighs, running his hand through his hair and making it stick up in all directions. He looks pale as he starts pacing up and down my room. “Well,” he starts, “I’ve sort of been dating her roommate.”

  I fold my hands in my lap. “Okay. Who’s her roommate?”

  Charlie grimaces. “You wouldn’t know her.”

  “Try me.”

  “No, I mean you actually wouldn’t know her. She’s from Grimdale. She goes to Farcliff University on a scholarship.”

  “Ah.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. Who Charlie dates is a big deal—he’s the Crown Prince, after all, and he needs to declare a wife within the next few months in order to be named the official heir. So, of course, his wife needs to be someone ‘suitable’.

  Dahlia Raventhal is not suitable. Her mother was thrown out of Farcliff and disgraced after making wild accusations after the Queen—our mother—passed away. Marrying her would understandably cause some controversy.

  But marrying a nobody from Grimdale?

  Even worse.

  Completely out of the question—to Father, at least. I doubt many other people in Farcliff would care.

  I nod. “Okay. What do you need me to do?”

  “Look, I just need you to pretend to be dating Dahlia. Father’s spies saw me at Dahlia and Elle’s house, and if he thinks I was only there because of you, it’ll give me enough time to think of a solution.”

  It’s a stretch. I don’t know if my father will buy it. Charlie looks desperate, though, so I nod. “You really like this girl, huh?”

  Charlie’s lips pinch and he looks at me, eyes wide. His chin dips down. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

  I take a deep breath. “All right.”

  My brother releases breath and closes his eyes. “Thanks, man.”

  “What’s Dahlia like? Will Father even believe I’m into her?”

  Charlie’s eyes flash and a tiny grin appears on his lips. “She’s… unique.”

  “Unique-good? Or unique-bad?”

  “Let’s just go over there. I think it’s better if we explain it together, and for you to actually meet Dahlia before she comes over for dinner.”

  The drive to Dahlia’s house is tense. I’ve never seen Charlie so stressed. He won’t stop pulling at his hair, and it looks like he hasn’t had a decent night’s sleep in days. His knee bounces up and down the whole way there.

  I’d do anything for my brother. I don’t like seeing him like this. Charlie is under a lot of pressure as the heir to the throne, and I know he doesn’t want the Crown. None of us do—not him, or me, or our little brother Gabriel. But if Charlie steps aside, he’s putting me on the throne instead. I’d much rather complete my studies at medical school and contribute something meaningful to the Kingdom. Maybe even the world.

  Plus, I’m not cut out to be King. I know I’m not. I have too much darkness inside me for that—even if nobody else knows it except for me. There are too many demons warring in my own heart for me to live my life in service of the Kingdom.

  It has to be Charlie.

  I know he’s taking the throne to protect Gabe and me, and I appreciate it.

  So, if it means I’ll have to pretend to be into some chick that happens to be one of the Kingdom’s most recent enemies, so be it. That’s fine. The only reason I’m able to pursue medical school in the first place is because I’m not the heir to the throne.

  I owe that to Charlie. I know his relationship with our father is tense, so the least I can do is pretend to be into Dahlia.

  I glance at Charlie, who’s biting his lip and running his hand through his hair again. He looks stressed out of his mind.

  Charlie said ‘unique’. I like ‘unique’, I think. At least, I can pretend to like ‘unique’ for my brother.

  When we get to the run-down house on the edge of the border between Grimdale and Farcliff, I bite my lip. This doesn’t look like somewhere a future Queen or a member of court would live. Charlie jumps out of the car and strides toward the front door. I jog to catch up.

  My eyebrows arch when the door opens and I meet his girlfriend, Elle. She’s tall and athletic, with short brown hair. She’s not at all the kind of girl I’d expect for him—but when I see his eyes soften and his lips curl into a smile, I know he’s completely head-over-heels for her. He kisses Elle and a little twinge of jealousy courses through me.

  My brother—the womanizer, the Kingdom’s most notorious bad-boy, official playboy and heir to the throne—has somehow found a good woman to love, who also loves him back.

  Me, on the other hand? Strait-laced, plays by the rules, unlucky number two?

  Love doesn’t even enter my vocabulary.

  Not that I’d want it, anyway. There’s too much rot inside me. I can’t love anyone for the same reason I can’t be King—I’m no good. I’m spoiled to the core. Unredeemable.

  As Charlie whispers something to Elle, I try to stop myself from heading down a spiral of self-loathing. I know where that ends up, and it’s never pretty.

  But I don’t have to try too hard to stop my thoughts, because at that moment, Dahlia Raventhal turns the corner.

  She’s definitely unique-good.

  She’s also definitely completely, buck-ass naked. Not a stitch of clothing on her. My eyes widen and every drop of blood in my body floods between my legs. My mouth waters and my hands itch to reach out for her.

  She’s short, with small, perky tits that are begging for my touch. Her hair is a rainbow of pastel colors, and—Farcliff-fucking-Almighty—her pubes are dyed to match. I’d kill to watch myself pumping my shaft in and out of that rainbow.

  She’s a petite, fairy-like creature, and she looks like she’d be fucking insane in bed.

  I aim to find out.

  Charlie asked me to pretend to be dating this chick, but there’s only one way to be truly convincing. I don’t want to pretend at all.

  Why should Charlie have all the fun?

  It doesn’t have to be love between Dahlia and me. I might have a black heart, but I can still enjoy a w
oman’s company.

  Dahlia glances at Charlie, Elle, and then me. She doesn’t yelp or cover herself. She’s not embarrassed to be seen without any clothing. She doesn’t react like any other human being I’ve ever met.

  No, the naked Dahlia Raventhal fucking waves at us. She flashes a smile and lifts her arm up, as if nothing at all was strange.

  And I need her. Badly.

  My body is burning up. My blood is sizzling through my veins. I can’t think of anything except the rock-hard cock between my legs, aching to fuck that pixie princess.

  I’m dizzy, barely able to stumble my way to the kitchen. When Dahlia reappears, she’s wearing a sparkly purple robe and the only thought in my brain is that I want to see her naked body again.

  Preferably on top of me. Or underneath. I’m not picky.

  I could tangle my fingers into her multi-colored hair and claim those soft, pink lips. My mind flies in a thousand different directions, and every single one of them involves Dahlia Raventhal and me in various states of ecstasy.

  Is she a screamer? What does my name sound like when she’s moaning it into my pillows? What does that hair look like when it’s twisted into my fist?

  I can’t take my eyes off her. She opens the refrigerator and grabs a fucking chicken leg, of all things, and watching her eat it is the most sensual thing I’ve ever seen.

  She licks her fingers, and my mouth hangs open. I wish those were my fingers between those perfect pink lips of hers.

  Charlie is talking, but I hardly hear a word.

  Elle is freaking out, but Dahlia’s eyes are on me and all I want to do is drag her back to the castle, lock her in the tallest tower, and fuck her into oblivion.

  “Can we just back up for a second?” Elle stands up. “What the hell is going on?”

  I can understand her reaction—this is a weird situation—but right now, I’m more than happy to help them out if it means I get to see Dahlia again.

  “Look, it’s no big deal,” I interject. “My brother likes you, but he’s the Crown Prince, so dating you is complicated. He needs a bit of time to figure out how to make that work. If our father thinks he’s into Dahlia, it means you’re safe. If our father thinks he’s into no one, even better. I’m going to buy him some time by saying that I’m the one who’s into Dahlia.” I glance at Dahlia, and she smiles. “You two will be free to keep seeing each other without fear of retribution. Simple.”

  My heart is palpitating. Her smile sends a thrill straight through me, and all I want to do is tear that robe off her perfect body and plunge myself inside her.

  Dahlia looks at Elle. “Seems simple to me.” She shrugs and takes another bite out of the chicken leg.

  The four of us come to a bit of an understanding. For a moment, Dahlia hesitates, but then she looks at Elle and I see her resolve strengthen.

  I do my best to try not to look too excited at the prospect of seeing Dahlia again, but my eyes keep drifting over that sparkly purple robe of hers, picturing the body that I saw a few moments ago.

  Charlie and Elle disappear down the hallway. Dahlia’s eyes flick to mine and she sits down at the table next to me.

  She intertwines her fingers, and I notice that her nails are painted with pink glitter. “We should probably come up with a back story,” Dahlia says, tilting her head and studying my face.

  “What did you have in mind?”

  I love the way her lips tug upward, and how she twirls a sparkly pink finger around her teal, pink, and purple hair. I watch the movement, mesmerized. How would those pink fingernails look if her hand was wrapped around my cock?

  “Well, maybe we could say we met at Farcliff University, or something?”

  “I get private tutoring. Apparently, it’s distracting to have royalty at college.”

  She chews her lip and the shoulder of her robe falls off. I catch a glimpse of her breast, sending another wave of heat through me. She tucks it back over her shoulder absent-mindedly.

  Dahlia lets out a soft sigh and shrugs. “Maybe we met at a networking event, or something? At the Prince’s Ball last month?”

  “Were you there? I feel like I would remember you.”

  Her smile widens. “No, not me—but ‘Dahlia Raventhal’ was,” she says, nodding down the hallway. I guess Elle went in Dahlia’s place. That must be where Charlie met her.

  I grin. “Okay, so we met at the ball and I dazzled you with my brilliance.”

  That makes Dahlia laugh, and I’m not sure if it’s insulting or not. I don’t really care. I want to make her laugh again.

  “Right,” she nods. “Maybe we met there, and we’ve been seeing each other a few times a week ever since. We study together, or something.” She chews her lip as she thinks, her leg bouncing up and down. Her robe falls open again and my head starts to spin.

  Does this girl not care that I’ve seen her naked multiple times, and I only met her fifteen minutes ago?

  “Are you okay?” Dahlia puts her hand on my wrist, and heat zips through my arm.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

  Probably because all my blood is currently occupied somewhere between my legs.

  “I’m good.” I smile, and she pulls her hand away. I resist the urge to catch her fingers between mine.

  Charlie reappears in the hallway way too soon. He nods to me. “We should go. Thanks for helping out, Dahlia.”

  “No worries.” She smiles and gives us another wave before disappearing back into her room. Charlie drags me away and I throw one last, wistful glance at her door.

  When we get outside, the sunlight hits me way too hard and I stumble forward.

  “You all right, Damon?”

  “I’m fine,” I say, rubbing my eyes. “Totally fine.”

  Charlie is grinning at me. He shakes his head. “I’m guessing you’re okay with this plan, then?”

  “I mean, I’m a romantic at heart. I’ll do anything for you and Elle.”

  “Uh huh.”

  We head back to the castle and I go straight to my room, lock the door and empty myself of everything Dahlia awoke in me.

  3

  Dahlia

  Rushing to scribble down the last of my notes, I slam my notebook shut and stuff it into my bag. Ever since Prince Damon’s visit to my house yesterday, I’ve felt completely off-balance. I know it’s just a dinner party at the castle, and I know that my aunts think I should try to integrate with court life a bit more, but it still makes me nervous.

  I said yes for Elle, because I know she needs me. And maybe—in a small, forbidden part of my heart—I also said yes because I want to see Prince Damon again.

  I sling my bag over my shoulder and hurry out of the auditorium. That was my last class today, but I need to rush to the library before all the good desks are taken. It’s getting to midterm season, and everyone at Farcliff University is starting to freak out. At least studying will give me an excuse to not think about the dinner party.

  The cold whips through my thin leggings as I make my way outside and across the Farcliff University campus. The science building is on the opposite end of the campus as the science library—which will never make sense to me. They should at least build an underground tunnel or something between them. It gets cold in Farcliff during the winter.

  It’s nearing the end of February now, and I can’t wait for winter to be over. Farcliff is a small Kingdom nestled between Canada and the United States, to the east of Lake Ontario. The winters here are long and brutal.

  My teeth are clacking by the time I make it across campus. I’m angling toward the door of the science library when something catches my eye.

  No, not something—someone.

  Prince Damon of Farcliff, to be exact. The very man that I’ve been trying to get out of my head for the past twenty-four hours.

  He’s leaning against a sleek, black car with his hands tucked into his pockets. When he sees me, he straightens up and lifts an arm.
>
  “Dahlia!”

  Heat zips through me and I forget how cold I am. How does he do that? Even yesterday, when he was in my kitchen, I could barely breathe.

  It’s just because he’s royalty, I think. It’s definitely not the way his forearms flex, or how his shoulders tug against the fabric of his top.

  And right now, the heat zipping through me is just from the open science library door. It’s definitely not Prince Damon’s gaze.

  I change my trajectory and walk toward the Prince. His face splits into a smile and his eyes drag all the way down to my faux-fur lined boots and then back up to my eyes. A current of electricity flows wherever his gaze lands.

  “Hey.” I try to sound casual as I walk up to him. My tongue feels too big for my mouth. Am I nervous? It must be the cold.

  He nods to his car. “I was thinking we could go for a coffee and get to know each other a bit better—you know, since we’re supposed to be in love, and all. Work on that back story of ours.”

  Why does that make me blush? I never blush. I’m the one who makes guys blush! I clear my throat and nod. “Yeah, sure. I mean… I was going to study, but…”

  Damon’s eyebrows arch.

  I shrug. “Whatever. I can study later.”

  What is it about the Princes of Farcliff that makes us girls go all gooey? Elle is wrapped around Prince Charlie’s little finger, and I’m basically salivating at the mere sight of Prince Damon.

  It’s not like me.

  He opens the car door for me, which makes me blush even harder. I put my backpack down at my feet and watch the Prince as he walks around the front of the car toward the driver’s side. He carries himself with his shoulders thrown back and his head held high, as if he owns the ground he walks on.

  Which, I guess he does, in a way.

  When the Prince slips inside the car, I inhale the scent of his cologne and my heart skips. I didn’t notice that when he was at my house. His scent is fresh and earthy, and it makes me want to bury my head in his chest. My eyes drop down to his hand on the gear stick and I watch the way his muscular forearm flexes a bit. A flutter passes through my chest.