CHAPTER NINE | England, 1981

CHAPTER NINE

England, 1981

KATE TELEPORTED BACK to the castle and ran through the halls to the parlor. She caught her breath, ran her hands over her dress, and tidied her hair before stepping inside the room.

Riccardo turned. Sad, anguished eyes met hers. He was across the room the next second, gripping her shoulders. “Kate, my God.”

“Riccardo, how lovely to see you,” she greeted, taken aback by his behavior. “Has my father—”

“Kate, sit,” he interrupted, steering her to the sofa, sitting next to her. “I have news. Your—”

Vincent came barging into the room. Riccardo leapt to his feet, his mouth falling open before he bowed. “Your Majesty!”

Kate was well aware Riccardo had never been to court nor met the king or any of the royals before.

“Your name?” the king asked, standing with his hands on his hips, glaring at the vampire.

She frowned.

Vincent knew who Riccardo was.

His behavior was that of a mating vampire, yet he continued to deny his feelings. The lust and need between them was so thick, her own undergarments were wet as she sat here. Worse, as she stared at the male, her sex gently throbbed, needing him to taste her, fill her, touch her.

God, he was infuriating.

Vincent’s eyes met hers and flared. They were both aware of the powerful desire for each other’s bodies.

Suddenly, the prince entered the room, glancing from one face to the other.

“Your Royal Highness,” Riccardo said, bowing again at Brayden, looking at her in desperation. Finally, he answered the king. “I am Riccardo Bocci. I need to speak to Kate in private, if I may, sire?”

Vincent crossed his arms.

“Anything you say to her, you may say in my presence.”

“Or we could wait outside,” Brayden suggested, raising a brow at his brother.

“No. I am fine right here,” Vincent replied, taking a seat and waving his hand for Riccardo to do the same.

Kate sighed.

She glanced at his crotch, taking in the semihard cock in his pants, and he tilted his head at her. She blushed and glanced away.

Riccardo cleared his throat.

Brayden crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.

“Ricky, it’s fine. Tell me what you are doing here,” she prompted, patting the seat on the sofa beside her.

Riccardo’s eyes flicked from one royal to the other as he sat.

She laid a hand on his arm and heard the king growl. Kate glared at him, and he returned it with one of his own.

“It’s about your parents,” Riccardo replied, placing a hand over hers. “They are dead.”

“Fuck,” Vincent cursed as an anguished cry left her throat.