Chapter 19

19

ISAAC

I'm not sure what was more concerning. The fact that I told Adrian to shut up in front of his parents— his parents . As if they're the neighbors on the corner instead of the queen and king of a European nation— get a grip, Isaac . Or the fact that Adrian is keeping something from me. "What's this gala thing about?" I ask as quietly as I can, hoping this time I get more than a wide-eyed stare.

"It's an event that requires my presence, and I would like you to be there. I can't miss it, unfortunately."

That doesn't answer my question at all.

Simon pulls on Adrian's sleeve. Great. That's all I'm going to get.

"Yes, dear Simon?"

"Master Simon," he says, and Adrian tries to keep his face serious, but the sparkle is in his eyes.

"Master Simon. My apologies."

Simon hesitates—which is unusual for him—and peeks over his shoulder at Phillipe. He frowns at Adrian with worried eyes. Nothing much worries Simon, so this is unusual.

Adrian squats to Simon's level. "What's wrong?"

"I want to go to the dungeon, but what if Luka is there?"

Adrian glances at his brother. Of course a Simon whisper can be heard by the entire room, so there's no hope he didn't hear.

Phillipe takes a step back. "What is he talking about? Why would Luka be in my lab? Did he say—" He stops, biting his lips, his gaze laser-focused on Adrian.

"Take a breath, Phillipe. You're scaring the poor boy."

"It's fine, Simon." I put my hand on his shoulder. "Nothing to worry about."

His eyes dart from Phillipe to me. "So the evil sorcerer is gone? And Phillipe is no longer protested?"

"Possessed," I say, correcting him. "That was just a story. There is nothing to be afraid of."

"Nothing?" he asks Adrian. Since when does my son need a second opinion?

"Nothing." Adrian ruffles his hair, and the affection in his voice melts my heart a little more, which is also terrifying. The palace is…a freaking palace. The drawing room is bigger than my entire house. The differences between us, which were not as noticeable at home, are stark in this amazing place. People wait on him. He doesn't drive himself or open his own car door. I'm in charge of myself and Simon. Adrian oversees millions of people. Okay, I don't know how big the country is, and it's mostly his parents at this point?—

Adrian touches my back and leans in. "Are you all right? If you're worried about Simon?—"

"No. That's not—I'm fine." I smile despite the sudden heaviness in my body.

"Adrian?" The Queen stands, and my anxiety spikes. Did I do something wrong? Is Simon too much? "Perhaps your guests would like a tour."

Oh. Okay. I sag in relief, and I swear I hear Adrian chuckle behind me.

"Even the dungeon?" Simon asks.

"Even the dungeon. But we'll send Phillipe in ahead of us to make sure the evil sorcerer is truly gone."

Simon nods like this is a very good plan. And Phillipe glares.

My plan to impress Adrian's family is off to a perfect start.

Things only get worse after the tour. It's not that Simon has a habit of running when he's excited, and he came close to knocking over a vase that probably cost more than our house. It's not that I'm drowning in debt and don't have extra cash for some rare Chinese vase. Or that everything I own and owe is a mere pittance compared to the wealth of this family.

It's all of that and more. Our lives are completely different. How can anything ever work between us? I'm an accountant from Mule Creek, Missouri, and that's all I'll ever be. Adrian will one day be king. And I can say it's a small country, but being here…driving through it. The people, the shops, the farmland. Adrian and his family are responsible for all of this. The absolute absurdity of us having a chance cripples me. Adrian cares about me and Simon. I know he does. But is it enough? How can it be?

"Reggie?" Adrian nods him over, and they discuss something, but I'm too focused on the excitement in my son's eyes. The way he is practically attached to Reginald's hip. When this all comes crashing down, it will hurt. Not just me but my son.

Reginald takes Simon to see the library, and then it's just Adrian and me. Even the servants are gone.

Adrian leads me out of the great room and into a room that is smaller in size but just as beautiful and intimidating. He gestures toward a sofa too gorgeous to sit on. The fabric is gold. But is it real gold? I almost giggle hysterically.

Adrian has no qualms about sitting on the sofa. He pulls me onto his lap. "Stop whatever you're thinking. Please?"

"What am I thinking?" And that would have sounded more convincing without the sob.

"I'm not exactly sure, but I suspect it has something to do with money." He kisses me softly. "I'm not downplaying your worries or your situation. The palace is a lot. It's all most people see when they look at me. But you see me, Isaac. I don't want that to change. Yes, the palace can be intimidating, but it's also my home. I want to share this part of myself with you. And Simon."

"I'm sorry?—"

"No need to be sorry, darling." His hand moves to my nape, and it helps ground me. "Can we just enjoy this time?"

I nestle into his arms, resting my head on his shoulder. "I want to. I'm not sure how to turn off my brain." But this is a good start. He smells amazing. Not just the expensive cologne but his skin and the memories of kissing him. Touching him. Our eyes catch, and the heat flaring through me is reflected in his gaze. "Adrian…"

We surge together, and the instant his lips touch mine, nothing else matters. I wrap my arms around his neck, drawing him into my arms. I'm sitting across his lap, but I won't do anything as crass as straddling him. I'm self-aware enough for that, but it's a near thing.

"I need you so much. There has to be a way for us to be together." I don't need the emphasis on his words. I know what he means. Because I desperately want it too.

After our alone time, things get easier. My focus needs to be on Simon and getting settled in our room. Bedtime is later than normal, but it's three in the afternoon at home, so it all evens out.

We find Reginald and Simon in the library, where Phillipe is telling him a story about Adrian searching through the maze. As we sit on furniture too beautiful to be used, my eyes wander to the walls of gorgeous books that look too perfect to read.

Simon giggles, and Adrian huffs. "That is not what happened."

Phillipe grins at him. "This is my story, brother."

"What was Prince Adrian looking for? Treasure?"

"Well, Master Simon, our young prince was looking for something very special." Phillipe pauses, and I'm a hundred percent sure it's for effect. Is everyone in this family dramatic? "Not treasure or gold." He smiles, his gaze going to Adrian. "He was looking for geese."

"All right," Adrian says, standing. "Enough story time."

"But it's getting good."

"It's bedtime." I put my hands on his shoulders and turn him toward Adrian's brother. "Thank Prince Phillipe for the story and tell everyone goodnight."

Despite the early hour at home, Simon immediately falls asleep. After I'm sure he won't wake up, I let Adrian lead me to his room, which is next to ours. As soon as the door shuts, he presses me against the heavy wood and crushes our mouths together. I give in for the moment, letting his hands slip under my shirt as he slots his leg between mine, grinding against my hard cock. "Isaac, my sweet."

I kiss him again, greedily, as if this is all I'm going to get and I don't want to waste it. My hands roam over his strong back and then to his ass.

"I've been thinking about it, Isaac. I want you—your cock—in me. I mean…" He sighs, his face beet red.

"I know what you mean. I want that too. So much." I can hardly breathe with how much I want it. "But Simon is next door, and I don't want to rush it. When we do that, I want to be able to stay with you. All night. Not having to sneak back to my room after."

"Those are all good points. Can I taste you?"

"Are you sure? Have you ever…?" But I already know the answer to that.

He drops to his knees and stares up at me. My body is instantly on board with this plan. He takes such care as he lowers my sleep pants and briefs, my hard cock bouncing back against my abs. "Gorgeous." His fingers touch me—taking time to explore every inch until I want to yell at him. This isn't our first time together, but this feels different from the last. It's slower. Less frenzied.

The fact that I'm circumcised seems to fascinate him. And, of course, I know that he isn't, but the thought of exploring him has me hard and leaking.

He thumbs under the head, and I half moan and half growl. "Adrian, please."

His eyes sparkle in amusement, but I glimpse the nervousness. I thread my fingers in his hair. "You're doing so good, babe. Open up for me."

His breathing increases as he licks his lips and drops open his mouth. I almost come just from the sight. What has this man done to me? I cover his hand with mine and slide my cock over his lips, painting them with my precum. Fuck. That's so damn hot. The thought of coming all over his face has me squeezing the base of my dick.

Adrian must understand because he takes control, pushing my hand out of the way and sucking my cock into his mouth. The heat. The sensations. The sight of his hollowed cheeks and my dick in his mouth. Jesus. I close my eyes so I can last, but that isn't much better. His mouth. His tongue licking me. The sensations are delicious. The sounds of Adrian slurping my cock.

He grabs my ass and pulls me closer until I'm almost gagging him as he bobs up and down. He's desperate and needy, and I give in. Grabbing his hair, I fuck his mouth, trying to not hurt him but also so turned on—I tug his hair as a signal, but it has the opposite effect. He holds on, and when I come, he tries to swallow every drop. He's not successful, but God, I love that he tried. I drag him back up and kiss him, sucking every missed drop off his lips.

His cock is out, and I don't know when that happened, but I'm not complaining. I wrap my hand around his hard length, but he pulls away.

"Did I—too fast?"

He shakes his head and pulls me toward the bed.

"Adrian—"

"Trust me."

Those words. I'm not good at trust. But for some reason, with Adrian, I'm as close as I've ever been. And I want to trust him. He strips from the waist down and lies on the bed with his knees bent. It's obvious he uses the palace gym. His body is muscled but not overly so. Dark hair lightly covers his body. He catches my eyes and lets his legs fall open. My heart thunders as my eyes drop to his hard cock, his thatch of dark hair and heavy balls. His skin is flushed with arousal, and I can't get over how beautiful he is.

I'm the one doing this. All my insecurity about sex and being good enough doesn't matter. Adrian wants me.

He grabs his cock and strokes. "You're killing me, Isaac."

I climb on the gigantic bed—definitely at least a king—and crawl over to him. "What do you want?"

"Touch me?" His voice sounds vulnerable. Especially considering how much touching I've done, but then I get it. I let my hands wander over his chest and down to his cock, standing straight up. At attention like the palace guards. I giggle at this and feel like an adolescent. I move his hand and slowly stroke him. His breath hitches. "Isaac, please."

I kiss his abs and focus on his balls. Rolling, squeezing, and licking until he's saying my name again and again. And then I move on to what he really wants. "Here?" I whisper, kissing the inside of his thigh as I rub my thumb over his taint and down his crack until the pad of my thumb rubs against his hole.

"Yes, God. Please, Isaac."

"Lube?"

A bottle of lube drops beside his leg. I kiss the tip of his dick and slather lube on my fingers and thumb. I rub my thumb in circles, teasing him before I press past the ring of muscle. He practically shoots off the bed. I pull back, and he grabs my wrist.

"Don't stop. Please? I want this."

"Are you sure?" Has he ever experimented? I don't want to hurt him. I add more lube and start slower. I circle his hole with my fingers. Close but never close enough. Teasing him until he's a moaning, desperate mess. "Doing okay?"

A jerky nod is all I get. And then pleas for more. I suck on the head of his cock as I push a finger in. Then I pull out and push back in. This time, it's easier, and soon, he's thrusting toward me instead of pulling away.

When he's ready, I fuck him with my finger until he's begging for more. I stop at two fingers and search for the spot I know he'll like. The moment I find it, he's arching his back and moaning. Using my other hand, I stroke his cock, and it doesn't take long for him to come. I'm half-hard again, but this isn't about me.

I kiss his sweaty brow. "You did so well. I'm so proud of you."

He blushes at my praise, but I know he likes it. "I can't wait to feel you inside me, but I'm a little nervous."

I kiss him slowly, pouring my heart into the kiss. "We'll take it slow," I whisper, kissing his brow.

When our eyes meet, he says, "I trust you, Isaac."

I would never willingly hurt this man. But as I steal whatever moments I can with him, I hate that my brain is already worried about an exit plan.

I sleep well. Too well. The four-poster bed I'm sharing with Simon is twice the size of my bed at home, and it's…luxurious. That's the only word that fits. The sheets are smooth as silk. Wait, are they silk?

I'm too comfortable to care. I stretch lazily and watch Simon. He's staring out the window.

"We're in the sky."

"Are we?" I ask, trying to match his level of enthusiasm. "How do we get down?"

He turns and throws his hands in the air. "The stairs."

I laugh. "Of course, silly me. Where's my hug?"

He races to the bed, and I scoop him in my arms. "What are we doing today, Daddy?"

"I don't know."

Knock. Knock. Simon's face lights up, and he rushes to the door. "Who is it?"

"Room service." Adrian. "Can I come in?"

"What's the password."

"I have coffee."

"Nope," Simon says, but I gently move him out of the way and open the door.

"Good morning." Adrian is gorgeous and carries a breakfast tray with fruit, pastries, and wonderful coffee. Reginald stands behind him, holding a similar tray with milk for Simon.

My stomach growls, but the scent of freshly brewed coffee wins. They set everything up. I sip my coffee with a sigh as Adrian gestures to Simon.

"For breakfast in bed, you need to get into bed."

"Again? I just got out of it." Simon shakes his head as if this is all a travesty.

"Maybe Master Simon would like to have breakfast at the table by the window."

Simon loves that idea. Adrian gets into bed with me, and I share my pastry.

"Breakfast in bed. Now I feel spoiled."

"Good," Adrian says with a wink.

"Did we miss breakfast with everyone else? Are your parents—the King and Queen—God, I'm never getting used to that. Were they disappointed?"

"Don't worry. Mother and Father usually eat in their rooms."

"What about Phillipe?" Simon asks, biting into a banana.

"Phillipe rarely eats breakfast. He's up all night experimenting on things."

Simon stares with his mouth open. "Daddy?—"

"No. You can't stay up all night doing experiments."

He pouts for a second and then shrugs, finishing his banana and taking a bite of his strawberry pastry.

Adrian and I share our food while Reginald ignores us. Simon chatters on about…everything. Sometimes it's hard to keep up.

"What are we doing today?" he asks, his face shining with excitement.

"Hmm." Adrian rubs his chin as if he's thinking. But his eyes sparkle, and I know he has a plan. "I thought I could introduce you to my dogs."

Simon jumps out of his chair. "Can we go now? I'm done eating."

"But don't you want to finish your pastry?"

"Rookie mistake," I whisper, and Adrian pinches my side, causing me to squirm and almost overturn the tray.

"I'm still learning."

"That you are," I say so only he can hear.

"You are evil," he whispers back. When Simon turns to look out the window, he sneaks a kiss.

Adrian introduces us to all ten dogs, and Simon has a blast playing with them. Then we explore Adrian's favorite place in the castle. The maze.

Inside the maze, dense walls of hedges run the length until sharply turning or, in some instances, curving in an almost complete circle. The entire maze is magical but also a little overwhelming. Simon doesn't seem to mind because he runs ahead with his hand stretched out to touch the leaves. It's terrifying when Simon ducks around a corner and is gone. He's safe. I know that. I just have to convince my pounding heart. Then it's a game of hide and seek. Those are the moments Adrian steals kisses from me. These feelings of happiness…excitement are unusual. I'm generally happy, right? But this anticipation, this…giddiness. It's addicting.

"Are you coming to find me?" Simon yells, and Adrian pulls away from our kiss with a laugh.

"You've done it now," he says, just as loud. Then he's off, and I can tell the moment he finds Simon because the squeals can probably be heard in the dungeon.

The palace has a pool, a gym, and a theater. It makes sense. It would be difficult to do those things if everyone recognized you and wanted your attention. Simon is suitably impressed as he sits wherever he wants in the large viewing room, munching on popcorn and sipping his root beer loudly. We watch Finding Nemo . One of Simon's favorites.

"We don't have any Star Trek movies, but I can get some, or we can stream something."

"It's fine. This is incredible." Even the carpet is amazing. Red and Gold.

"Why does that sound like a bad thing?"

"Not bad," I say, leaning into him. "Just different."

He kisses my cheek. "I love seeing the palace through Simon's eyes. It's nothing new to me. I forget how it looks to others."

I thread our hands together. "I'm sorry if I'm being—me."

He laughs. "I like you. Feel free to be you all you want." He cringes. "That sounded better in my head. Way to be awkward, Adrian."

"Don't worry. Awkward princes are my weakness."

"Hmm. Let's prove that theory, shall we?" His hands cup my face as he pulls me in for a kiss. The room is dark except for the screen where Dory is helping Marlin find his son. Simon is far enough away that as long as we're quiet, a few kisses won't be noticed. It's not easy to stop after a few, but with Simon right there, I keep it light. I'm grateful when Adrian does the same.

We don't see much of the Queen and King throughout the day as we explore the castle and the royal gardens. I try not to get too used to it because this feels like a fairy tale.

Rene shows up right on time. Is it really a fairy tale if you don't get clothes specially made so you can go to a ball?

I throw Adrian glances as we get fitted by Rene, the tailor. He's French, with perfect manners and perfectly manicured nails. But his face reminds me of a young Sylvester Stallone.

Simon squirms as he gets measured, ready to be done as soon as the man starts. The man is quick and efficient and done in no time. Simon convinces Reginald to play outside with the dogs.

But as soon as we are alone—are we ever really alone?—I corner him. "Out with it, Adrian. What aren't you telling me about this event?"

"You are really excellent at this dad stuff."

I stare at him with my arms crossed. "Tell me."

"Okay, fine. It's a wedding reception."

"I can handle a wedding reception, Adrian. Obviously."

"It's not the event itself. Jasella will be there."

"Oh. Well, you two are still friends?—"

"That's not it. The reception is for her sister. It was planned before—" He waves his hands, dismissing his non-wedding. "This will be the first time Jasella and I will be seen together since we broke off the engagement. There will be people watching us. Watching me. Watching you."

My chest tightens at his words. Is he worried about what I'll say? Do? "You're worried I'll embarrass you?"

"God, no," he says, shaking his head and grabbing my arms. "I'm worried you'll be freaked out by all the people staring. I'm worried someone, probably Jasella's father, who doesn't like me at all, will say something rude to you."

"I've dealt with rude people."

"But you shouldn't have to. Not because of something I've done."

"You're sweet, Adrian." I wrap my arms around his waist and stare into his eyes. "Never ever keep anything from me again. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Daddy," he says, kissing me thoroughly until my lips are swollen and I'm feeling dazed.

Dinner is the most challenging part of the day. We have to dress for dinner and Simon immediately starts questioning this.

"Where are we going?"

"The dining room."

Simon stares at me. "In the castle?"

"Palace. And yes."

"Then why do we have to change clothes?"

I put our heads together. This could end with a frustrated kid, and I definitely understand the way he feels. "I honestly don't know. But let's do it for Adrian, okay?"

He shrugs. "Okay."

Nothing is ever this easy at home, but for now, everything's great, so I'm not questioning it. At some point, Simon will probably have a meltdown. I shudder at the thought.

At dinner, we are announced.

"Mr. Isaac Spencer Brandt and Master Simon Garrett Brandt."

As we take our place next to Adrian, I lean closer. "Is dinner normally this formal?"

"Not really. They're showing off."

I giggle and slap a hand over my mouth. But I struggle to hold it back. The King and Queen of Lutiana are showing off for me and my son. None of this seems real.

Our meal consists of several courses, and although the food is amazing, it's also stressful. Simon stares at the silverware on either side of his plate and then at Adrian. Adrian picks up the soup spoon and winks. Simon picks it up, though I'm not sure why. That kid doesn't like soup, except for tomato soup, which he drinks out of a cup. Fancy potato soup that tastes like—oh my holy Jesus. This isn't soup. This is heaven. Sweet and creamy with an oniony flavor and bits of bacon. It isn't until Adrian elbows me that I realize I made a noise.

He whispers in my ear, "Less porny sounds, please."

I almost choke on my food and quickly wipe my mouth. I glance at Simon, expecting to see him picking at his, but he's scooping it into his mouth as fast as he can. He never eats my soup like that. Stop it, Isaac . This isn't a competition.

As soon as my spoon hits the bottom of my bowl, someone takes it away and sets another plate in front of me.

"Daddy, it's celery!"

"What is this?" I ask Adrian, but the man beside me replies. "Cream cheese and pineapple stuffed celery, sir."

Adrian smiles, and I know this is his doing. He wants Simon—and me—to be comfortable.

"I quite like it," the Queen says, and Simon grins.

Being served makes me uneasy, but it's nice to enjoy a meal without being exhausted from the day and cooking. Still, I don't think I'll ever get used to being waited on.

But isn't that where this is all headed? The thought that I might one day live here is ludicrous. A wave of sadness—worse, despair—hits me. Realistically, how can this work? Adrian can't live in the US. Sure, Prince Harry did it, but at what cost? And he was the second son. Across from us, Phillipe mutters to himself and taps his finger and thumb together as if he's counting or making points or something.

So, living in the US is out. But living here with Adrian? Adrian would someday be the king, and I would be, what? The prince consort? None of it computes.

"Isaac, my sweet." Adrian's words tickle my face, and I turn toward him. Oh. He's right there. I get lost in his green eyes. "Stop it."

"What?"

"No more stressing. Get out of that cute head. Holidays are meant to be fun."

After dinner, there's a special surprise. Adrian's dad takes us to a study to show Simon all the puzzles he's put together. There are so many of them. And the contrast of expensive paintings side by side with framed puzzles seems…bizarre and amazing. He asks Simon if he wants to help put one together and my son jumps at the chance.

"I can't wait to tell Mrs. Wagner I put together a puzzle with a king." He stops and frowns. "Do you think she'll believe me?"

"I'm sure of it." Because I would make sure of it.

His enthusiasm is back, and he sits next to the King as they focus on finding the right pieces for the puzzle. The Queen watches them with fond eyes.

"This is so nice."

"Yeah, nice."

I jerk my head to look at Adrian. "What's the problem?"

"Nothing."

I nudge him with my shoulder. And he rolls his eyes. "Tell me."

"It's stupid." He rubs the back of his neck and laughs. "My dad never once asked me to do a puzzle with him."

I put my arm around his waist. "My poor, sweet prince. Do you like puzzles?"

"No. I despise them. There is nothing more boring—" He closes his eyes and sighs. "Never mind. Don't say a word."

I check that no one is watching and kiss his cheek. "It's always nice to be asked."

He threads our fingers together. "You're amazing."

"I know." And then he kisses me for my cheekiness.

It's difficult to convince Simon it's bedtime after all the day's excitement. I remind him we're going to a big party tomorrow and that he needs his rest. "It's going to be so much fun," I say, even though I'm not sure of that. I'm still waiting for the rest of the details.

We settle on the large bed, and Adrian tells us another story about the mad scientist. Something Simon will probably question Phillipe about tomorrow. This seems to be a competition between them, and Simon reaps the benefits.

Simon is asleep before Adrian finishes his story. Still jet lagged, probably, and worn out from all the excitement of his first full day in the palace.

I know how he feels. I yawn, and Adrian shakes his head. "None of that. I have a surprise for you."