of actual events. The world would believe that after falling in love with King Markus some months ago, Ava had confessed her illegitimate son to him, whom the royal family of Kelehar had helped her to keep safe and secret. Markus then helped her slip away to visit him and she’d brought her boy back to Kiraly where the king was continuing to court her. The public would only learn of their marriage once wedding photos were released to the press.
Still a juicy story, but nothing compared to how it had really unfolded.
“I hope she doesn’t think she’s made a mistake.” Mark rested his head against the back of his chair and pressed his eyes shut. “She was finally living undetected, like she’d always wanted. I’ve ruined that.”
“Seriously?” Kris hurled another cookie at him. Mark jolted, eyes springing open as it hit him in the chest. “She came back for you, man. She climbed a mountain just to see you again. You didn’t drag her here.”
“It’s just—” Mark hesitated, eyeing Kris. “This whole plan feels loose.”
“So was calling in three cowboys to replace a royal family,” Kris said, “but it’s kind of working.”
“Kind of,” Tommy said, angling his head. “How’s Darius settling in?”
Mark’s smile was genuine. That was the right question to ask. “He’s got a lot of his mother in him. Confident. Clever. A sweet kid, but he’s got a sassy little mouth when he’s comfortable.”
Kris chuckled, looking forward to when the boy was comfortable around him. Three-year-old sass would be hysterical.
“He asked about my boots and said he wanted to do gardening like a real cowboy,” Mark said, still smiling. “I’ve ordered a pair in his size.”
There. That look of soft joy on his brother’s face was exactly why Kris was taking over as king.
Then he pulled a face and said, “Gardening?”
“It’s something he does with Ava. One step at a time. The horses will follow.” Then his brows shot up. “Oh. And my bachelor party. I thought we could clear out a venue, maybe the Bearded Bunting, and just eat, drink and play cards. You guys, Adam, Philip—”
“Philip?” Kris interrupted.
“And my guards,” Mark finished, ignoring him. “Small and simple.”
“Sounds good.” Tommy gave a nod, his hands busy tearing strips off the top sheet of a notepad on the desk. His face looked pale and tacky, and his hands leapt at the sudden knock on the door.
“Come in,” Mark called.
Kris straightened up his sprawl when Frankie strode into the room. The memory of her taste was lush in his mouth, and for a moment, he was back on The Scepter—night wrapping a shadowed screen around them as he pressed his face against her neck and used his tongue to raze their past to the ground. He swallowed, taut with wanting as he watched her. She held a thin folder and didn’t seem remotely surprised to find all three brothers in the room.
“Your Majesty.” She bowed to Mark, then inclined her head to Tommy. “Your Highness.” Lastly, she sent a sideways watch yourself look at Kris, said, “Your Highness,” and inclined her head again.
“I told them about last night,” he said, thrilled when her cheeks stained pink. The kiss was hot on her mind too. “And the bodyguards.”
“There goes my prepared speech.” She lowered the folder to her side. “It appears to be an isolated incident, but it pays to be safe.”
“You’re bruised.” Tommy’s attention was steady on her face.
Concern pushed Kris to his feet. “Where?”
Sighing, she faced him properly, revealing the tinge of purple on her cheek not quite concealed by her makeup. She raised a shoulder. “He must have got me.”
“You must have felt it,” he countered.
“Adrenaline is a great pain blocker.”
Kris opened his mouth to argue, but Mark cut him off with a swift, “Frankie.”
Standing, his brother drew something from his pocket. A square of pearlescent card, with a silver ribbon woven along one edge. “Ava asked me to give this to you.”
“That’s pretty.” She took it as if it might try to steal her fingerprints and frowned as she read it. “I still don’t get why she wants me at her bridal shower.”
“You’re one of her heroes. It would mean a lot if you were there.”
Frankie scoffed, glancing out the window, and it occurred to Kris that Frankie didn’t only deny his attempts to draw her close, but that of anyone she classed as her superior. “I’m not a hero,” she muttered.
“You’re hers,” Mark said. “You and Zara.”
“Fine,” she said, sounding almost annoyed. “Tell her