“A bit,” she admitted with a shy smile. “I just, I really want to be independent, you know? All my life, I have had people surrounding me and I’m about to die from it.”
While most people would think it would be nice to have servants and the like at their beck and call, Angelica felt it stifling at times, with very little privacy in place. And having her brother know when men came calling? That was doubly less private.
“I can relate,” Ludwig sighed. “I envy those that have their privacy. In the lives we live, there is none.”
Angelica nodded, glad that someone could relate to her and the struggles of being a royal. It wasn’t that she ever truly regretted her royal status, but there were times she wished no one knew who she was. She made a mental note to send an email to her assistant, Malba Gironella, tomorrow morning and ask her to have the Harem cleaned and ready for her to move in as soon as she was back.
“Enough about that. I’d rather talk about you.” She waved her hand dismissively and leaned down putting her head in his lap. “How was your school life? I imagine you went to some expensive boarding school.”
Ludwig laughed at her haughtiness, wondering why it didn’t bother him to hear Angelica speak to him in that manner. She’s a delight. “I did go to an expensive and private, British, male-only boarding school, yes.”
She propped up on her elbow, her eyes dancing with laughter. “So? How was it?”
“I would imagine the same as yours was,” he responded. “Except yours would probably be female-only.”
“My sister went to a Swiss female-only boarding school for her studies. I didn’t. As Valantín did, I studied in Aragon, and only went abroad for International Affairs university.” She wrinkled her nose, which he found sexy in a weird sort of way. “Did you enjoy it? What was your favorite subject to study?”
While Ludwig knew she was just making idle conversation, his chest tightened at the thought of his time at the boarding school, before Angus’s arrival. “Actually, I did not have a pleasant time there. The other boys enjoyed using me as a punching bag more than once.”
“Oh, Cristo,” she breathed, her eyes darkening. “I didn’t mean to drum up bad memories. I’m sorry.”
He waved a hand at her before settling it on her hip. “It was so long ago, it doesn’t matter. I wasn’t as big or strong, or as popular as I am now and was mercilessly picked on. One day I got tired of it, being their punching bag, and when they came to beat me up, I lashed out.”
“You gave them a piece of their own medicine,” Angelica supplied, her eyes flashing with anger.
Ludwig drew in a breath, thinking about that day that seemed to be so long ago now. He was a different person than he had been as a child; a scared, lonely kid who had only craved to make friends in an unknown place. “No, I didn’t. I stepped out to hit the first kid and slipped in a mud puddle.”
He laughed now but he could still feel the coldness of the mud seeping through his uniform, the laughter that had followed from the entire playground as they had witnessed his humiliation. Not to mention the kicks that had followed.
“I ended up with three broken ribs.” His father had been livid, not at the children that had done the damage, but at his son for being unable to defend himself. He had called Ludwig a waste, a weakling, in front of the headmaster. From then on, the headmaster had looked at Ludwig with pity in his eyes.
Ludwig hated that look, even until this day. He was not one to be pitied.
“Cristo mio,” Angelica said softly, pulling herself up on his lap and cupping his cheek with her hand. “Why would they be so brutal to a child?”
Ludwig shrugged. Angus had come a week later but they hadn’t become friends right away. Ludwig didn’t know if the arrival of Angus was just going to add one to the total of those who taunted him. “Children are vicious.”
“Well, obviously it has driven you to succeed in life,” Angelica stated. “Though, I wouldn’t mind going back in time to defend you.”
Ludwig ignored the twinge in his chest at her words. Defend him? No one had ever offered to defend him for anything. No one but Angus.
It was strange, but also, well, welcomed.
The things that conspired to break Ludwig were actually far more subtle and socially driven than anything as simple as his father’s failure to love him and his mother’s agreeing to put him in a boarding school. What Ludwig’s upbringing taught him, in the worst possible way, was what it meant to be a man. In this world, men are not supposed to be emotional, neurotic, vulnerable, or loving. But by nature, Ludwig would be—or was—all of those things, but he learned very quickly that they would never be valued.
So, he learned to keep everybody out and pretend he was complete and needed nobody.
“You know…” Ludwig started, the thought of not being around her seizing the breath in his lungs. “I do not want this to end.”
His voice again ran over her body like warm syrup. His Alemannic accent burred soft and rolling from his firm lips. Those lips that had showered her with toe-curling kisses—just looking at them made her skin tingle and her heart race.
Angelica moved her head away, her eyes landing on the tray full of delectable goodies in front of her. Not because she was hungry, but because she didn’t want it to end either. But want and must are two completely different things. “Perhaps I can extend the same hospitality when you come to visit, show you my country and why I love it so dearly.”
She’d intended the comment to be of no great significance, but it hung in the air between them with a meaning far deeper than mere words. Their gazes locked.
“I would like that,” he said gruffly, not just saying it to appease her. He truly meant every word.
Angelica tried not to look excited at his wanting to come visit her, her eyes still on the tray. It warmed her heart that he would want to come to Aragon, for her. No one else had wished to do something for her in quite some time. “What do we have here?” she asked instead.
“A little bit of everything,” he said, looking over her shoulder. “Pick one.”
Angelica plucked a tiny glazed cake off the tray and bit into it, the burst of lemon tang filling her mouth. It was lovely, and she polished off the entire thing in another bite.
“Delicious.” She took another lemon cake off the tray beside her and held it out, feeling utterly brazen. “Especially these. Try one.”
Slowly, he slid his fingers around her hand. He brought it up to his mouth, and took the cake from her, his lips brushing her fingers. He held her gaze as he chewed. Swallowed. “Let’s see if we can discover what else is to your liking.”
His hand tightened around hers and he drew her close, until she could smell the lemon on his breath. He moved her, until she lay on her back, and lowered his body over hers, resting his arms on either side of her head.
Angelica stopped laughing, suddenly serious. She stared up at him, her eyes simmering with expectancy. And trust.
And that tore at him. He wanted to deserve it, and right now, it didn’t exactly feel as he did. “Don’t kid yourself, Kätzchen. I’m no good guy.”
Confusion flashed in her chocolate eyes, but only for a moment. “I’ll decide that on my own, but thank you for the warning anyway.”
“I’m not.”
“Innocent until proven guilty.”
And then he dipped his head and kissed her. He tasted of sweetness and citrus, but there was nothing sweet about his kiss. It was hard and demanding. As life was.
This was what it meant to be alive—to conjure his want from kisses, to have her breath stolen with desire.
Until there was nothing left but the two of them. And it was more than enough.
Lauriana de la Caballería shivered inside the black SUV she rented that morning in Switzerland and pulled her coat tighter against her body. She had no idea why Aguilar wanted the Aragon royals watched every minute of their lives. She reminded herself she was just the youngest member of the Dragonslayers and was not in
a position to ask questions or request further information about her mission.
The heavy mist outside swallowed the sullen squeak of the old seat hinges when she turned to grab her cell phone which was blaring inside her purse.
“Laura.”
Aguilar’s voice came sharp at the other end of the phone, demanding news.
“I’ve been sitting outside Grand-Duke Von Kröenenberg’s house in Lekten for more than six hours now. They have returned from an outing and have not yet—” She shifted as Aguilar interrupted with a spate of questions. “Yeah, that’s right. They have been to a village, met with people, did some sightseeing, kissed and embraced, had lunch, talked, and came back to Lekten.”
Lauriana rolled her eyes and lifted the binoculars when Aguilar demanded to know what they were doing now. As if she had x-ray vision or a crystal ball. “Looks like they intend to spend the evening having sex. I don’t think they’ll leave any more, so—” She stopped when Aguilar interrupted her again. “Of course, I can do that, if that’s what you want. I’ll contact you if they come out.”
When the phone clicked in her ear, Lauriana shook her head and ate a chocolate bar, resigning herself to a long, cold, and uncomfortable evening.
16
Ludwig woke up feeling exhilarated. His arms snaked out around Angelica, pulling her closer to his body. A sense of contentment traveled through him. He could wake up like this beside her every day.
He ran his fingers along her scalp, massaging and stimulating, and let them slide down the heavy mass of her raven hair.
She moaned and moved, pressing her head into his fingertips.
“Does that feel good?” He knew that it had to. She looked like a cat in heaven. His cat.
“Mmm,” was the only thing she said. Her eyes remained closed, and she stretched beside him, again like a cat.
As much fun as it was to watch her, they had a lot to do. He had a big evening planned and he was going to enjoy every moment of it.
But they had time for a little bit of fun. He got up and went to the kitchen, making them both breakfast. By the time he made it back to the bed, she was starting to wake up a little more. “Time to wake up, Kätzchen.”
She frowned at him and then opened her eyes. “I am not a cat.”
He got into the bed, setting both plates down so he could arrange the pillow for him to lean back. “I disagree. You are very much like a cat. Meine Kätzchen.”
She got up, letting the sheets fall to her waist as she sat back against the headboard, propping the pillows up behind her. She yawned and stretched looking deliciously sleepy.
She glared at him. “I don’t like pet names.”
He doubted that, but he had a feeling that she was trying to keep a wall between them.
Her eyes widened as she took in what he had prepared. “I didn’t know you were a chef.”
He smiled. There’d been many instances he’d needed to know how to cook at least the basics for himself. “Almost anyone can scramble an egg and make toast.”
“You think almost anyone could do that.”
He didn’t doubt that she could too, despite always having had chefs at her service. Now he had to figure out what they were going to do for the day, because if he didn’t come up with something good, she might decide to leave early. “Finish up and then take a shower.”
She blinked up at him and he saw indignation come over her face. When her arms crossed in front of her, he knew he was in trouble.
“You have a very bossy way about you, Your Highness. You do know that, right?”
“So I’ve been told on a few random occasions,” he admitted, trying not to laugh because, damn, this woman was too independent—and too sexy—for her own good. Sure enough he was going to like every second of showing her how good he was at giving orders. “But I have your best interests in mind.”
“Really?” she asked, arching a brow and putting her hands to her hips. “And how exactly is that?”
“Because every second that you stand there, naked, looking good enough to eat,”—he forced himself to not reach for her and fuck her against the wall—“I contemplate the many reasons why I shouldn’t forget about showing you a bit more of Lektenstaten and join you in the shower.”
Her mouth formed a silent O before she pivoted on her feet and rushed toward the bathroom.
Her round ass kicked his imagination into high gear with possibilities, thickening his cock, and tempting him to change his plans. “Don’t worry, Kätzchen, I’ll take a rain check.”
He let out a short laugh when the bathroom door lock engaged and headed to the guest bathroom.
This is new. A woman waiting on a man who is taking too long to get ready. Settling down on the sofa, Angelica watched the fire in the massive fireplace, which took up half a wall to her left, and invited images of cold, winter days snuggling with Ludwig in front of warm flames.
Nice. Sighing, she wondered how she had gone from having her one and only one-night-stand with a womanizer to being with Mr. Virtue.
But of course she wouldn’t be around to find out, so she wasn’t sure why she was even contemplating such a scenario.
She looked at her mobile, glad there weren’t any messages from her brother or her aide-de-camp. She cared about her country and she didn’t want something to be handled poorly because she wasn’t there to do it. Though, that might change anyway. Siobhan’s appearance in their lives might change everything or it might change nothing. Angelica’s reality was that if Siobhan decided to take on her duties—as was their father’s dying wish—or assigned someone else whom she trusted to replace Angelica, she would have no place to go or anything to do. And she only knew how to do one thing; assist her brother the king with running a country.
If what Jaxon said was true, then nothing was likely to change. She could then focus solely on getting to know her new sister and finding a way to welcome her into the family. There was so much Siobhan had missed out on and a part of Angelica felt badly for her.
So far, she was enjoying herself, and even though a part of her worried about how things were in Aragon, she didn’t want to think about having to return. Yet.
To distract herself, she grabbed a leather photo album on the table and lost herself in what was a history of the Von Kröenenberg family.
How long she sat there she didn’t know, but a knock on the door made her straighten.
“Ludwig, it’s Friedrich. Open up.”
Surely, she should let his brother in, and admittedly, she was curious to meet the man, but she was not sure if Ludwig wanted her opening the door of his home as if she was a…girlfriend. Or something.
But another knock sounded before he arrived downstairs, making her rush across the room. Impatience is evidently a Von Kröenenberg family trait.
Opening the door, her eyes went wide at the handsome man before her.
A girl could get overwhelmed surrounded by so much testosterone. It appeared good looks also ran in the family. As in the proverbial tall, dark, and handsome men of romances, except these were tall, blond, and handsome.
Before her stood a man much like Ludwig, but not Ludwig at all. Impressively broad and muscular, with the same blue eyes, and short blond hair, he was taller—not that Ludwig was short, because he wasn’t at six-foot-three.
His brows dipped at the sight of her. “Who are you?”
“You Von Kröenenberg men have a way with words, don’t you?” she answered, scowling back at him and planting her hands on her hips.
His frown only darkened but he answered in a soft tone, “Sometimes.”
She stepped back from the door to let him enter. As soon as the door closed behind him, she added, “I’ll call Ludwig.”
“Wait. Can we start again?” Friedrich held out his hand. “Friedrich von Kröenenberg.”
She smiled and offered him her hand. “Angelica di Castella y Aragon.”
“You’re—”
“Yes, I’m the jilted bride,” she finished
for him, knowing what was next and pulled her hand free, retreating toward the stairs.
“I was actually going to say you’re Siobhan’s sister.”
Angelica stopped walking. There was really no way out of her stupid misstep. Turning, Angelica found Friedrich snatching a coke from the small refrigerator hidden in an exquisite Louis XV chest of drawers.
He leaned on the edge of the deceptive piece of furniture and popped the can open. “Want one?”
He wasn’t pushing her over her stupid retort. Instead, he was giving her a reprieve, and she appreciated it.
“No. I don’t even want to think about eating or drinking.” She put a hand on her full stomach from the feast Ludwig had served her for breakfast. “Ever.”
Friedrich joined her on the sofa, sitting at the other end. “Did my brother get you drunk and take advantage of you?”
“I certainly did not.” What kind of question is this?
Angelica and Friedrich turned at the sound of Ludwig’s voice.
Dressed in straight, well-worn pewter-gray jeans and a black T-shirt that hugged every inch of his muscular torso, his longish blond hair freshly washed and loose around his face, curling around his neck and shoulders, there was an edge of lethal wildness barely suppressed, barely contained, that had her wishing she’d worked harder to set it free the night before.
“No, he didn’t,” Angelica agreed. “Much to the contrary. He served me breakfast in bed. I seem to bring out the gentleman in him.”
The words were out before she could stop them, and she felt her face warm with color.
Friedrich looked at Angelica and then his brother. “What am I missing here?”
“Nothing.” Angelica and Ludwig said in unison.
“If you both say so…” Friedrich cleared his throat. “I had something I wanted to talk to you about. But if this is a bad time, perhaps you can drop by my apartment. Soon, if possible.” He gave his brother a look that added intensity to his words. He really needed to talk but was being polite.
“I can take a hint. You want to talk to your brother alone.” Angelica eyed Friedrich and then Ludwig. “I’ll go upstairs.”