Crown Jewels (Off-Limits Romance #1)(18)

“Oh no, dear. Being married wasn’t what I meant.”

I frown as I sit up.

She gives me a searching look, as if she’s wondering where I left my brain. “The lawsuit,” she says softly.

“Lawsuit?”

Her face scrunches as she shakes her head. “You don’t…” She has the good grace to look down at her sneakers. I see her cringe as her eyes return to mine. “The Parsons Grocers boy?”

My heart stops mid-beat. “What?”

“Oh, it’s just the news said he had brought a lawsuit. For violating a contract. Something along those lines. One of those things…” She snaps her fingers. “A privacy agreement. Is that what they’re called? A breaching of the privacy agreement?”

I think I’m nodding yes. The next thing I know, several bleary faces are peering over me.





SEVEN Liam





It’s my fault.

I clamp my molars on the inside of my cheek as I look down at my phone.

Rhodes sued by ex-fiancé, Parsons grocery heir

In the silence of the castle library, the iPhone clicks as I swipe my thumb over the screen again. Several new retweets in the last minute. Twitter is exploding over the E! News story. Exploding like I wish I could explode that motherfucker’s skull.

I toss back the rest of my whiskey and pour another tumbler full. After only a moment’s hesitation, I down it, too.

Only then do I let out a long breath. I can feel my heart rate slow, my shoulders slacken.

The roar of stress that’s taken up residence in my head these last six months dims a little, so I can ignore it if I try. Even this fresh fury—at Bryce Parsons, for what he did back then and what he’s doing now—has lost its edge.

I rub my lips together, contemplating the risks and benefits of having the motherfucker killed. I love this feeling: the strange, cold rage of strong emotions fuzzed by liquor. I laugh in the darkness. Not darkness exactly. More just…blue.

I get up and walk to one of the windows, look out over Cold Sound. In the dusky blue light, the ocean looks black, and deceptively flat. In bright light, you can see the small white-caps of current rushing between the Isle of Gael’s north border and tiny Sheep Island thirty meters out. The current there is brutal: inaccessible by most boats.

In bygone times, when Gael was under threat, the royal family would be whisked away by special boat and hidden there among the sheep. I feel a dull shot of longing for such a clean escape before my mind boomerangs to Lucy.

Lucy Rhodes.

I check Twitter again. Let out the breath that I’ve been holding.

Fucking Parsons.

When Lucy fell asleep that night, her body tucked against my chest, her soft face pressed against my throat, the first thing I did was lie there, inhaling her sweet scent and feeling her warm curves against my harder planes. But after that, I left a guard at her door and went to find my old friend Dec.

He noted my unzipped fly and smirked, but when he realized how pissed off I was, he knew he couldn’t bullshit me.

“What was wrong with her? Carolina told me she saw Lucy drop her flute when she saw a market heir? Rice?”

“Bryce.” He nodded. “Bryce Parsons. His family owns Parsons’ Grocers. Mr. Parsons has been escorted from the premises.”

“Tell me,” I demanded.

“Tell you what?”

“You know what. Tell me what the fuck he did to her! Don’t lie to me, Dec. Why did you have him thrown out?”

He shook his head, rubbing his jaw as he stared at his half-drained tumbler.

“Declan.”

“It’s not mine to tell.”

“She came upstairs…fucked up. Distraught, not drunk but scared. I tried to calm her down.” I shake my head. That isn’t really true. I left her there at first. I feel like shit for it now. I let my irritation zero in on Declan. “I’ll find out somehow. And when I do, I’m going after him.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean kick his fucking ass. Dec, you didn’t see her. She was shaking. She settled down, but for a second I was going to find you. I thought we’d need to take her somewhere.”

“Damn.” He rubs his forehead.

And so—Dec told me. What he learned from Maggie. What most people in their circle knew but never said. That Bryce and Lucy had been engaged, and the fucker had raped her. Gotten all amped up on something and hurt her at a Hamptons party two summers ago.

Their families had settled out of court—something we don’t allow in Gael in cases of abuse—and after that, Lucy had left The Rhodes of Concord. Moved out to Colorado.

“You’re sure?” I asked. “It’s all true?”

He nodded.

Half an hour later, we were down on Parsons’ beach. I came at the motherfucker first, threw a bag over his head. Declan helped me fuck him up. After it was over, he thought I had gone too far. I laughed.

“Too far, he wouldn’t be breathing.”

Dec and I go way back. We’ve been friends since we were wearing diapers, since my mother was alive.

He’s a real friend. Really more a brother.

I text him now and get a reply in seconds. Yes, it’s true. Parsons heard I fucked her—Lucy—that night, and he’s suing her for breach of contract, for breaching the non-disclosure agreement Americans lump in with their cowardly out-of-court settlements. He’s assuming Lucy told me about her past with him.