Royally Not Ready(35)

“I’m here, whenever you need to talk, and not just as your bodyguard, but as your friend.”

“That means a lot to me, Lara.” I wrap my arm around her and give her a hug as she leans against me. “I can’t imagine getting close to the one you’re protecting is a smart choice, though.”

“We run things differently here in Torskethorpe.” She winks.

“I’m starting to realize that.” I stare up at the bright sky. “I can’t believe it’s nine at night and it’s still light out. Crazy.”

“You’ll get used to it, but we should probably start heading back. Keller will start to worry.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Plus, I have to finish my Netflix binge.”

We both stand from the rock and head back to the castle together.

“What are you watching?” she asks.

“Binging Bridgerton, of course. I have to educate myself. I already watched The Crown, so I have that aspect of the royal life covered, but Bridgerton, that’s a whole other lifestyle.”

“You realize that’s not what our country is like, right?”

“Yes.” I secretly smirk. “But how would I be able to get through these training sessions without driving Keller nuts with Bridgerton references?”

“Oh, Lilly, I truly think we’ll be great friends.”

“I think so too.”





“I’ve been thinking,” I say as Keller slows down next to me on our jog back to the castle. This morning workout thing is not my jam, just going to make that known.

There’s nothing appealing about dragging my half-dead carcass out of bed, slipping on workout clothes, and jogging about on grassy trails. The only thing that keeps me going, that pulls me from my slumber, is the knowledge that I’ll get to see Keller’s ass in a pair of running shorts jog in front of me. Or I get to watch his large, muscular pecs bounce up and down while he pedals backward, watching me attempt to catch up to him. The jiggle is nice. The jiggle pulls me forward.

“You’ve been thinking?” Keller asks. “Why does that feel like a bad thing?”

We pause outside the castle, where Keller picks up our boulder. Great, abs again.

I wave my hand at him as I try to catch my breath. “No, do your pushups first.” I lean my hand against the stone wall of the castle and take a deep breath.

He sets the rock back down, then reaches behind his head and pulls his sweaty shirt off, dropping it to the side before he gets down on the grass and into the pushup position.

Oh, don’t mind if I do.

My eyes fall to his arms that are bulging with muscles, rippling sinew weaving from his shoulders to his hands. His back muscles flex, his robust strength on full display as he goes up and down, up and down, with absolute ease.

Yes, that’s right, just like that.

Keep it going.

I wet my lips.

If only I was under him while he was performing his pushups, feeling his large body cover mine only to push back up. In my fantasy, we’re both naked and his penis is dipping in and out of me.

I have no shame, and I’m okay with that. Just look at the man, he’s easily a fifteen out of ten. His muscles have baby muscles, and those baby muscles have micro muscles. There are so many muscles on the man that my nipples aren’t sure if they should be hard, or just dislodge from my body and join his.

“Are you going to tell me what you were thinking?” Keller asks, snapping me back to the present.

“Huh?” I ask.

“You said you’ve been thinking?”

“Oh yeah. I’ve been worrying about something.”

He pauses and sits up on his knees, resting his hands on his thighs. Ooof, look at that remarkable male specimen. The tattoos, the burly torso of a fit man, his concerned brow. Makes me want to drop to my knees, grip the back of his head, and shove him right into my non-existent cleavage.

“What are you worrying about?” he asks.

“Well, I’ve been doing some serious research on this whole ‘royal’ thing, and I’m concerned about the amount of time we’re spending together alone.”

His brow creases even more, and I just knew watching Bridgerton was going to not only entertain me but provide me with the perfect material to test Keller’s thinning patience. Got to have a little fun with the grump somehow, am I right, ladies?

“Why are you concerned?”

“Because, we’re alone, with no chaperone, and the assumption can be made that you’re . . . you’re stealing my virtue.” I roll my teeth over my bottom lip and say, “We might have to get married.”

His face switches from concerned to annoyed in a second. Shaking his head, he goes back to his pushups. “Christ, I thought you were serious about something.”

“I am. You know how it is, one assumption can destroy a woman’s character.”

“Us being alone in a room is not going to destroy your virtue. It’s the countless hours you spent conducting wet T-shirt contests that will.”

I step toward him and nudge his shoulder with the tip of my foot. “I’m being serious, Keller.” I’m really not, but my acting is really on point. “We’re going to have to get married.”

Growling his frustration—uh-oh—he hops up from the ground and towers over me, his chest looming with irritation, his sweat glistening, reflecting the sunshine. “You want to get married? Fine. Brimar is an ordained minister.” He crowds my space. “I’ll get married right here, right now. But I’ll tell you this—you’re not going to enjoy being my wife.” He crowds me so much that I’m pushed up against the castle now, hands behind my back so I don’t succumb to sweaty skin. “I take what I want, when I want it. And if my wife dares disobey me, there will be consequences.”