Royal Line (Tattered Royals #1) - Carrie Ann Ryan Page 0,28
sometimes grouchy. He might shout and at the same time act cool and distant.
Yet I knew he had a soft heart. Buried deep, deep down where others might ignore it.
And I knew why he buried it, but that wasn’t something we talked about.
All three of my brothers would protect me until the end of their days, but now it was my turn to protect them. By not going back until that stupid rule was taken care of.
But if I needed to, I would go back, and I would protect them.
But first, I needed to protect myself.
I could protect myself.
And damn Kannon anyway.
I sighed and looked down at my things. There wasn’t much to choose from. I’d been more concerned with my lenses. I’d only put a change of undergarments, leggings, and two T-shirts in my bag. The rest of the room was taken up by camera equipment, passports, and cash.
I glowered at the clothes on the bathroom floor. I had passed out the night before and still wore what I had been wearing the day I traveled to Paris. It wasn’t a good look.
My wet hair clung to my brow, and it had tangles in it.
Inside the bundle of clothes was my toiletry kit, and for that I was grateful. I at least had my leave-in detangler so I could work on the bird’s nest that was my hair.
The scent of home filled me as soon as I sprayed my ends, and I relaxed marginally.
I could do this. I was stronger than this. I wouldn’t panic. I would get home and tell the council they could shove their rules.
I had been a good girl and had done what I was told for far too long.
I was not going to breed for the sake of the monarchy.
Aunt Rebecca would help. I knew she had meant well with her suggestion about the duke, but that didn’t mean I had to like it.
She had been the only one I could really rely on for most of my life. When my parents died, I didn’t really have anyone else to confide in. My brothers had been just as broken as I was and had gone off in different directions to heal. At least that’s what I had figured. It wasn’t like we actually talked about it.
Because talking about your feelings was not what a Waterford did.
Aunt Rebecca had been stern, set in the old ways, but had always listened. She had helped to raise me. And she would stand by my brothers and help me get out of this situation.
I just hated that I wasn’t there to deal with it myself. Well, that was going to change. As soon as I could, I would deal with it.
As I detangled, the echoing sound of the bullets pinging against the car ran through my mind again, and I shivered. This time, it had nothing to do with pleasure.
I could have died. If whoever had shot at the car had actually been after me, I could have died.
And I had Kannon to thank for saving my life.
Once my hair was detangled, and I’d moisturized, I looked around for my underwear.
I must’ve dropped them on my way into the bathroom. Crap.
I cursed, but I hadn’t heard anyone come in, so no one should be out there.
I’d be safe.
I quickly opened the door and spotted my lacy black thong on the floor, sitting there and mocking me.
I tiptoed out there, acting as if I was a thief in the night attempting to steal my own underwear.
As soon as I took three steps though, I collided with a very hard, very warm, very shirtless mountain.
“Oh my God,” I whispered.
My towel fell to one side, and I gripped it around my front, but the side that fell exposed my ass and my side.
I had one hand on the towel, keeping my breasts covered, and the other went to his chest.
I looked up, way up, at Kannon, who just stared down at me, his eyes molten.
“What. The. Fuck?” he whispered.
I could feel the heat of him, not just through the towel but also from his hand on my ass.
He had apparently reached around to steady me as I ran into him, and now his hand was on my bare ass, my skin still damp from the shower, and all I wanted to do was lean into his touch.
My core tightened, and I pressed my thighs together, wondering what the hell was wrong with me.