And my body reacts. Again.
His hand seems to burn into my skin, but I keep my composure, glaring up at him with a scowl.
“What are you doing? We’re not in public. Keep your hands to yourself,” I snap at him, but he only laughs.
“So easy to provoke, Goldilocks? Retract your claws, I don’t bite. Not yet. Completely in love, remember?”
His lips are close to mine, and I can feel his warm breath brushing against them. I feel like I can’t breathe. Too close, too intense.
His gray eyes lock onto mine, and I feel myself sinking into them. Against my will, my pulse quickens, and I’m certain he can feel my heartbeat against his chest.
“You’re nothing like what I expected. Maybe Phil didn’t have such bad taste after all,” he murmurs against my lips, more to himself than to me. Still, his words hit me hard. They drag me back into uncomfortable reality, and I straighten up, push off his chest, and take two steps back.
“Your brother was one of the best people I’ve ever known. Don’t you dare question him or his taste just because I make you uncomfortable, Your Highness. Now let’s go—your people are eager to worship their new successor to the throne.” My words are cold, and I see I’ve struck a nerve when his face shifts back to that unreadable, hard mask he always wears for the world.
“As you wish, milady.” He gives a curt nod and offers me his arm.
Silently, we walk toward the catastrophe.
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 thelocal 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.
