in my hands, the way her body looked stretched out on the beach, the sound of her laughter, the way she said my name in that insistent tone. “Liam, please. Liam, more!”
I grind my teeth, staring at the full pint of beer I no longer have any desire to drink. I started drinking to numb myself. It’s not bloody working.
“All right. You win. I’m gone.”
I reach into my pocket for my wallet, and I pull out a thick wad. Fuck it. I just leave the whole thing on the counter. He can’t complain. There’s at least five hundred there.
The world swims as I climb off the stool.
“Thanks. Do you want me to call for a cab?”
“Fuck it. I’ll walk.”
No security, and I’m almost too drunk to be able to walk. If Lucian wants the throne, all he has to do is sit back and watch the disaster. The doors fly open, and a dozen cameras flash in my eyeballs. I push through the crowd as they pester me with questions about Daisy, my errant wife. Soon to be ex-wife.
You lost her.
I walk up the hill, ignoring the flock of people surrounding me. I don’t think I’d give a damn if they yanked me to the ground and beat on me with their fists, but surprisingly, they don’t. They just hover around me like hundreds of really annoying flies.
Finally, I reach the lower gate, and the guards let me squeeze through. The sounds of the paparazzi drop away as I keep walking. My legs scream as I climb, and I relish in the pain. There’s nothing but the sound of crickets and the grass. I see where the grass is beaten down from Daisy’s disastrous tea party, and a swell of emotion rises in my chest. I want to scream into the wind and let the world hear some of the pain inside me.
But I don’t. I keep walking that torturous ascent, all the way up my tower where I know she won’t be. The emptiness swallows me.
I barge into her room, the surroundings swimming. She must have gone in a hurry; half of her stuff is here.
I don’t care about what she left behind, or what she didn’t. There’s no note. I expected a note.
Wait.
There’s something on the laptop.
It’s a fluttering piece of paper, or some sort of newsprint. I take it, waiting for my eyes to adjust. God, I’m drunk.
ROYAL EXPOSÉ
Prince Liam’s Gallant Rescue
She kept a tabloid rag in her bedroom? After I read the title, my eyes focus on the large picture. It’s one of us, when I “saved her” from drowning in the lake. She was smiling. Beautiful. Her skin contrasted starkly with her dark hair. She clung to my neck and kissed me. It was spontaneous. It was a moment of pure happiness. And she kept the memory of it in her bedroom.
It doesn’t mean anything. Girls fancy things like this.
If it had meant something, she would’ve taken it with her.
I look at the photo until my eyes blur over, pain pounding at the very center of my chest.
I loved her.
The realization crashes through me. The tabloid falls from my hands and drifts to the floor like a dead leaf.
She has to be free to make her own choice, and she made it.
I love her, and I’ll let her go.
Ten
Dirty Scots Steal Princess!
Daisy
I bend over the railing of the boat as a yellow stream of vomit blasts from my mouth. The dark waves swallow it up, and I straighten. The relief from my nausea lasts minutes, and it creeps back into my mouth. I clutch my stomach as the boat bounces on the waves, up and down, and I can’t see the water, which makes everything worse.
I fucking hate boats.
Lucian’s hired goons laugh at me as I grasp the railing, another surge of vomit rising in my throat. The floor keeps rocking up and down, and then a pair of legs rocks into my view.
“We’re almost there, lass.”
Pierce, one of my kidnappers, as he hands me a bottle of water.
“It’s poisoned, isn’t it?”
He laughs. “Our orders were to get you out of the country, not to harm you. For God’s sake, take the water before you puke your guts out.”
I snatch the bottle out of his hands. The seal isn’t broken, so I twist it off and drink a mouthful of water. My stomach churns.
“What do you plan to do with me?”
“I’ve told you. We’re dropping you off and leaving.”