THEIR SECOND CHANCE

A THALANIA DYNASTY NOVELLA

KATEE ROBERT

Copyright © 2019 by Katee Robert

All rights reserved.

Cover art by Oliviaprodesigns

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Created with Vellum

To Tessa Bailey and Alexa Riley

ALSO BY KATEE ROBERT

The Island of Ys

Book 1: His Forbidden Desire

The Thalanian Dynasty Series (MMF)

Book 1: Theirs for the Night

Book 2: Forever Theirs

Book 3: Theirs Ever After

Book 4: Their Second Chance

The Kings Series

Book 1: The Last King

Book 2: The Fearless King

The Hidden Sins Series

Book 1: The Devil’s Daughter

Book 2: The Hunting Grounds

Book 3: The Surviving Girls

The Make Me Series

Book 1: Make Me Want

Book 2: Make Me Crave

Book 3: Make Me Yours

Book 4: Make Me Need

The O’Malley Series

Book 1: The Marriage Contract

Book 2: The Wedding Pact

Book 3: An Indecent Proposal

Book 4: Forbidden Promises

Book 5: Undercover Attraction

Book 6: The Bastard’s Bargain

The Hot in Hollywood Series

Book 1: Ties that Bind

Book 2: Animal Attraction

The Foolproof Love Series

Book 1: A Foolproof Love

Book 2: Fool Me Once

Book 3: A Fool for You

Out of Uniform Series

Book 1: In Bed with Mr. Wrong

Book 1.5: His to Keep

Book 2: Falling for His Best Friend

Book 3: His Lover to Protect

Book 3.5: His to Take

Serve Series

Book 1: Mistaken by Fate

Book 2: Betting on Fate

Book 3: Protecting Fate

Come Undone Series

Book 1: Wrong Bed, Right Guy

Book 2: Chasing Mrs. Right

Book 3: Two Wrongs, One Right

Book 3.5: Seducing Mr. Right

Other Books

Seducing the Bridesmaid

Meeting His Match

Prom Queen

The Siren’s Curse

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

About the Author

1

Noemi Huxley walked into her suite in the Thalanian palace and took a deep breath. It was her first time being back here in nearly two years, first time being back since she took over as Head of Family, and the first time being back since her father had been tried and convicted of treason. This weekend mattered so much, it made her a little sick to her stomach. Every eye would be on her during this event, the King’s younger brother’s wedding, and she couldn’t afford to make a misstep.

She walked a slow circuit around the room, but the motion did nothing to quell her rising restlessness. She wasn’t part of the wedding party, and she wouldn’t be attending the private events leading up to the wedding itself. The only reason she was here a full three days early lay in the fact that the prince’s fiancée was a Huxley, albeit a distant cousin. The bride’s father had passed away years ago and, as it was her right, she’d requested the Head of the Family to walk her down the aisle.

Noemi would walk her down the aisle.

She stopped short and ran her hand down her silk sheath dress. There had never been a Lady Huxley. Since the beginning of the family line, the title had always passed to a male heir.

Until Noemi.

A knock on the door brought her back to the present. She couldn’t afford to be distracted now, not with the eyes of every noble in Thalania on her. The King and his Consorts had taken a risk overriding centuries of tradition and backing her claim to the Huxley Family, and she’d be damned before she did something to endanger the position. Mooning about would only result in missteps.

She hurried to the door and opened it, only to stop short as a shadow fell across her entire body. She knew that shadow, knew it intimately down to her very soul. Noemi looked up, up, up to the familiar brutal face of the one man she’d hoped to avoid during her visit to the palace. She should have known she’d never be so lucky. “Isaac.”

“Lady Huxley.”

The cut stung, just as she imagined it was meant to. A reminder. A reminder of the intimacy they no longer shared, of the choice she’d been forced to make two years ago, and of all that she’d sacrificed, even if she’d gained the things she’d thought she always wanted.

She drew herself up, a laughable thing to do. Even though she was nearly six feet tall, Isaac Kozlov towered over her in both height and breadth. He filled the doorway and then some, and in any other place he would have to duck to walk through.

Wait, why would he be walking through at all? He wasn’t here for her, no matter that he stood at her door. She’d burned that bridge two years ago when she’d chosen duty over something that might have been love.

No, Noemi. You can lie to him if you need to, but you must never lie to yourself. It was love.

Was being the operative word.

She lifted her chin, all too aware that she gave herself away with that one movement but unable to help herself. “Can I help you, Mr. Kozlov?”

Now it was his turn to hesitate. “We need to go over the plan for your protective detail.”

She blinked. “The palace has enough security that the nobles don’t need individual protective details. That’s the whole point of being in the palace.”

“I have my orders.” His rough features took on the stubborn set she knew so well. There would be no moving him.

She could stand here and argue until they were both blue in the face and ready to throw things, or she could let him in and deal with this behind closed doors—and away from curious ears. Her irritation rose in time with the beat of her heart, but he had her cornered and they both knew she’d rather die than make a scene.

She stepped back, letting belligerence snap from every movement. “Come in, then.” She didn’t wait for him, choosing instead to march into the main living area and pour herself a strong drink. It might not be quite noon yet, but if she was going to have to deal with her ex less than an hour after she arrived, she was more than entitled to the brandy. All the brandy.

Isaac walked into the room and gave it a cursory look. Nothing had changed since the last time he was here, when he’d bent her over… No, she couldn’t take that walk down memory lane. It simply hurt too much.

Noemi perched on the single chair, ceding the couch to him. Let him dwell on what they’d done the last time he’d occupied that exact seat. Not that she’d get a reaction from Isaac. He’d always had a superior poker face, and today was no exception. He sank onto the couch, his massive body taking up two-thirds of it, and met her gaze directly. Those blue eyes held absolutely nothing. No tenderness, no desire, certainly no love. It was just business, and hell if that didn’t hurt just as much as she deserved.

Isaac leaned forward and braced his elbows on his thighs. “The Consort has made personal security arrangements for a few key individuals, and you are at the top of the list. As such, I’ve been assigned to you.”

No need to ask which Consort Isaac meant. Only one of the Royal Triad had taken over as head of security. I’m going to kick your ass for this, Galen. Except she couldn’t, because throwing a fit about Isaac being assigned to her meant admitting they’d ever been more than acquaintances. “Assign me someone else.”

“Believe me, I tried. I don’t want to be in this position any more than you want me here, but Galen has his schedule and he’s not budging.”

There it was, the tiniest of cracks in his armor. If Noemi was a better person, she’d ignore it and go on pretending they were nothing more than almost-strangers. She wasn’t a better person. Not when it came to Isaac. “Would you like me to apologize for the choice I made? Would that do a damn bit of difference?”

“You know it wouldn’t.” He looked away.

Her gaze dropped to the roping scar that spanned his thick neck, testament to his time moving in worlds far darker than hers. Death had brushed by Isaac far too often for her liking, and she could count the resulting marks on his big body. She had counted them, tracing the scars with her mouth, reassuring herself that he was here, he was safe, he was hers.

No longer.

Frustration boiled up inside her, a toxic mix that would do them no good if she let it loose. She could throw things and scream until she was breathless, and Isaac would stand there, a mountain to her storm, unmovable to the very last. It wouldn’t change the past, just like it wouldn’t change the future. Their paths were set in stone, taking them on routes that wouldn’t converge again.

Except for this weekend.

Noemi pushed to her feet and strode to the side table to refill her drink. With her back turned, she could feel his gaze on her, tracing her bare shoulders, down her back, over the curve of her ass, and settling on her legs. If she turned around, he’d mask his expression again, but for this one moment, she knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was looking at her like he used to. As if she was the sexiest woman he’d ever seen and he might die if he didn’t have her in his arms.

God, she missed him.

She didn’t quite have herself under control as she turned around. “We might as well get on with going over security, then.”

“There have been threats made. We think they’re the usual sort of thing that pops up during this kind of event, but we’re doing our due diligence in the meantime.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t just trace the IP addresses and take care of it immediately.” In addition to being deadly in a number of ways, Isaac was also downright magical with computers. She’d never seen anything like it, but in the time when he served as head of security, he’d completely revamped the palace camera system and stopped any number of threats before they could actually become threats.

His blue eyes flashed, a temper there that she’d always been so adept at provoking. “They were rerouted too many times to trace. Whoever it was knew what they were doing.” Isaac stood slowly, towering over her despite the coffee table between them, and a thrill went through her. He lowered dark brows. “This is a serious threat, Noemi. Don’t be an idiot just because I’m the one delivering the news.”

She closed her eyes and embraced the anger his words brought. Better to be furious than to address the gaping hole in her heart that only seemed to widen the longer they stood in the same room and didn’t touch. The constant reminder of what she’d sacrificed for her Family’s greater good. A fight, she could handle. In fact, she embraced it. “Excuse me?”

“You always do this. You’re so damn smart, and no one could possibly have thought of those same solutions. Well, we have. We’ve done our due diligence and then some, and whoever is making these threats is either a hacker with too much time on their hands, or an actual threat. We are treating it like the latter.” He ran a hand over his close-cropped dark hair, impatience and exasperation telegraphing every move. “You are smart, Noemi, but I think we can both agree that you’re not the smartest person in the room when it comes to this. You haven’t been back in the palace in damn near two years, and we’ve made changes to how things operate since then, which means you require a damn babysitter. I’m just the unlucky bastard who pulled the short straw.”

She downed her drink. “Tell Galen to assign someone else.”

“I tried. He’s made up his mind.”

Yeah, she just bet he did. Whether that order came from him directly or one of the other two in the Royal Triad, it didn’t matter. They were misguided in their meddling. She and Isaac were ancient history, and if she moved through every day since she left him with a broken shard in her heart… if it twisted painfully late at night when she lay alone in her too-big bed… if some days she actually hated her Family for requiring her to give up so much for them…

It didn’t matter.

It couldn’t matter.

But just because she’d made the choice didn’t mean she had to passively take whatever misguided matchmaking efforts her monarch and his two Consorts attempted without complaint.

Noemi set her glass down carefully. Throwing things would undermine her point, and she couldn’t afford that. She smoothed her dress and checked her hair in the mirror hanging on the wall. Perfect, as always. Once upon a time, she’d known how to let her hair down and get rumpled, but the safety for that had passed along with her relationship with Isaac.

She headed for the door, pointedly ignoring the giant of a man taking up too much space.

Naturally, it couldn’t be that easy. Isaac stepped in front of her and held out a hand to stop her, but she wasn’t in the mood to be stopped. She kept moving until his big hand pressed against the center of her chest.

“If you can’t be bothered to put together a convincing argument, then I’ll have to do it.” Maybe if she kept her fury flaring hot, she wouldn’t lose herself in how good it felt to have his rough palm dragging over her sternum, his fingers branching up to her collarbone and barely brushing the top curves of her breasts. He had to feel her heart racing beneath his touch, but she’d be damned before she relented first. “Get out of my way, Isaac.”

“You think you can just walk in there and start yelling, and everyone will bend over backwards to give you what you want?” He laughed harshly. “You know better.”

Yeah, she did, but that wouldn’t stop her. Getting a dressing down by Galen was better than dealing with this. Anything was better than dealing with this. She lifted her chin. “If you’re not going to rip this dress in half, then get your fucking hands off me, Isaac.”

He didn’t hesitate. One second she stood there, sure he’d laugh in her face, and then next her dress was floating to the ground in silken shreds.

2

Isaac Kozlov had no goddamn sense when it came to Noemi. None. If he had, he wouldn’t have let Galen steamroll him into this security detail, and he sure as fuck wouldn’t have ripped off her dress, his body stepping to the gauntlet she’d thrown before his mind had a chance to catch up.

Noemi stood there, naked but for a pair of fuck-me red panties, staring him down as if daring him to take this further. She looked good. Better than good. Isaac had hundreds of memories of her imprinted on his brain, but none of them stood up to the real thing. She’d gained some muscle definition since he’d seen her last, her lean body toned and tight as if preparing for battle. He dragged his gaze over her, from her classy nude heels to those tease of panties, to her high breasts peaked with rosy pink nipples, and got caught on her red, red lips. “Fuck, Noemi.”

“Stop staring and do something about it.”

It was always like this with her. She might present the perfect princess persona to the public, but in private she was just as savage as he was. Just as demanding, just as willing to step to the line and throw the first strike.

He should walk.

She’d made her choice, and Isaac had his pride.

But Noemi reached up and pulled her hair out of its band, letting the golden strands cascade around her shoulders, and he was lost. He moved toward her, and she met him in the middle, just like she always had. Noemi climbed him like a tree and wrapped her long legs around his waist, her mouth already seeking his by the time he grabbed her hips to steady her. She bit his bottom lip hard enough to make him groan and then her tongue was there, stroking his, tasting like the peppermints she always kept stashed in her army of purses.

It struck him then that this was happening. For the first time in over two years, he had Noemi Huxley in his arms, writhing and making little desperate noises against his mouth as if she couldn’t wait to sink onto his cock. It would be the easiest thing in the world to undo his jeans and slide into her, the best kind of homecoming he sure as fuck didn’t deserve.

She didn’t deserve it, either.

He turned without breaking their kiss, unable to stand even that much distance when he already knew how this would end. Isaac went to his knees in front of the couch, his height meaning that she could sit on the cushions and be lined up perfectly with the ridge of his cock. He thrust against her, grinding down in a motion designed to make her lose her fucking mind.

She tore her mouth from his and made a breathy keening sound. “Oh shit, Isaac, that feels good.”

“How many?”

Noemi blinked those big blue eyes at him as he used his palms to spread her legs wider and dragged his thumb over her center. Her panties were in the way, but a mere two years wasn’t anywhere near long enough to make Isaac forget how to touch her. A lifetime wouldn’t be long enough, not with their every time together haunting his dreams and far too many of his waking hours. He’d tried. He’d tried so fucking hard to forget her, to purge her from his mind and body the same way she seemed so willing to purge him.

It hadn’t worked.

She was a drug to his system and he needed another hit. Now.

He ripped her panties off and tossed them aside. And there she was, wet and pink and practically dripping for him. He pushed two fingers slowly into her, cursing softly when her pussy clamped around him like she never wanted to let him go.

He knew better.

“How many, Noemi?” He kept up that slow finger fucking. “How many men did it take before you forgot how my cock filled you up? How many times did you scream my name when they tongued your pussy before you remembered it wasn’t me—would never be me again?”

“Bastard.” But she lifted her hips to take his fingers deeper, her body betraying the truth despite her harsh tone.

Isaac braced one hand on the back of the couch, leaning down until his lips almost brushed hers with every word. “It doesn’t matter. They didn’t give you what you need, the rough and ready fucking that only I can provide. They made love to you, polite sex beneath the covers in the dark until you were bored to death of them.”

She dropped her chin, and that was the only answer he needed. “Look at me, Noemi. You look at me when I’m inside you, and you say my fucking name when you come so we both know exactly who you’re craving. Me. No one else.” Cruel. He was so fucking cruel, and he couldn’t bring himself to care. Not with his heart bleeding out between them, even after all this time.

“You weren’t…” Her breath hitched as he crooked his fingers inside her. “You fucked other people, too.”

“Yeah. I did. Until they all ran together and I stopped bothering to tell them apart.” He pressed his thumb to her clit and caught her mouth as she came apart around him, eating her cries and milking her orgasm until she could do nothing more than shake.

Isaac withdrew his fingers from her, waited for her to meet his gaze, and then sucked them into his mouth, reveling in the taste of her even as he hated himself a little bit for not having the self-control to walk away before they got to this point. He stood before she could reach for him and moved away.

Noemi struggled to sit up, and even naked and flushed, with her hair a mess, she still looked so fucking perfect. The ache in his chest wouldn’t get better as long as she was in the palace, but he hadn’t expected for this to crack the wound wide open. He wanted to rail at her, to point out for the thousandth time why she was a goddamn coward for leaving him, why she could have had it all but she’d chosen the easy way out.

What was the point?

She made her choice. He made his when he didn’t go after her and try to force the issue.

End of story.

Or it would have been if Noemi wasn’t sitting there with evidence of the orgasm he’d just given her written all over her face. Mistake. This was a mistake. He started for the door.

“Oh, no you don’t.” Noemi somehow got there first and plastered herself against it. Though her lips were swollen from his kisses, he recognized the hard look in her eyes. She pointed a finger at him. “You get to be cruel. I deserve it. You can spit all the bullshit you want, but you do not get to start something we both want and then walk before it’s finished.”

“I don’t want to finish it.”

“Liar.” She watched him for a moment, and then another. Finally Noemi stepped away from the door and smoothed her hair back. She didn’t give a fuck that she was naked except for the heels she’d managed to keep on, and he couldn’t help raking his gaze over her again, soaking up every second of this experience to torment himself with later.

Because torment is exactly what he’d experience.

He’d be jacking himself seven times a day for god knew how long to exorcise the single orgasm he’d just given her. If that wasn’t karma, Isaac didn’t know that karma existed.

Noemi didn’t approach him. She just walked to that damn side table and poured herself yet another tumbler of brandy. Unless something had drastically changed in the last two years, three wasn’t enough to get her more than a little buzzed, but Isaac didn’t like that he’d driven her to drink so much in such a short time.

This is what you wanted, isn’t it?

To make her hurt the same way she made you hurt.

Too bad that blade cut both ways, and cut deep.

“Leave. That’s what you were doing, isn’t it? Putting me in my place.” She lifted the glass to her lips and he detected the slightest shake in her hand. Noemi drained the amber liquid without so much as a grimace and set the glass back on the table. “You win, Isaac. Yes, there were others. No, they can’t compare to you, so I stopped trying. I’m so desperate for your cock, I’m as close to begging as I’ll ever get.” Her lips pulled up into an unhappy smile. “Would you like me on my knees crawling to you?”

No. Never that. He looked at the door. A few steps and he could be out of this room, down the hallway, charging to the security headquarters to demand Galen take him off this security detail. He hadn’t asked the other man for shit in all the years they’d known each other, and Galen could do him this single goddamn favor, especially since Isaac was the one who’d helped pave the way for their exiled king to retake his throne. Yeah, it was his duty, but he’d gone out on a limb for them. The least they could do was give him a different detail that wouldn’t twist the knife for the next three days.

Isaac sighed. “That’s not what I want.”

“Could have fooled me.” Noemi wasn’t any closer, but her voice drew him, coaxing him to face her again. Why couldn’t he leave this woman alone? One would think he’d have learned his lesson by now, but then, Isaac had always been a stupid son of a bitch when it came to Noemi Huxley.

She started to cross her arms over her chest but abandoned the motion halfway through. “What if it was just for now? It’s three days. I hurt you, and I’m sorry.” She straightened, throwing her shoulders back. “Take it out on me. All of it. All the anger and frustration and bullshit. Punish me if that will make things right.”

There was no making things right. She knew that, even if she was reaching right now to prolong this goodbye. Because that’s exactly what this was—their last goodbye. Once the prince was married, there wouldn’t be any critical events that required Noemi to have a security detail, and if there was, she’d bring her own people. Even when she was in the palace for Family shit, he could plan on it and avoid her accordingly.

“You want me to take it out on you,” he said slowly, giving her time to change her mind.

Isaac should have known better. Once Noemi set herself on a path, not even a hurricane could blow her off course. She nodded, something like relief flickering over her features as he turned from the door. “Yes. That’s exactly what I want.”

“Are you feeling guilty, Noemi? Or are you just looking for an excuse to have my cock again?”

“Both.” No hesitation. Sure as fuck no embarrassment.

He loved her so much, he couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Years and pain and the kind of heartbreak Shakespearean tragedies were made of should have smothered any feeling he had for this woman.

Walking away was the only option. He’d kept barely a shred of his sanity intact when she left, and Isaac had managed to crawl halfway out of that hole in the intervening time. Not all the way. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be whole again. More than his multitude of scars, more than the battles of his youth, the thing that launched him out of sleep in terror night after night was the memory of Noemi’s lips forming the words, It’s over. I’m now Head of Family Huxley and I can’t be with you anymore. Never again.

Never again.

Those two little words haunted him still.

But when he opened his mouth to reject her, the words wouldn’t come. Different syllables rose in their place, hijacking what was left of his good sense. “You want to beg, Noemi? Then get on your fucking knees.”

3

Noemi’s knees hit the carpet before she made a conscious decision to obey Isaac’s rough command. She’d asked for this, demanded this, pushed and pushed him until he felt cornered and lashed out. So why the hell did it hurt so much to kneel there and watch him?

It’s only for now.

The words gained no traction. Time held no meaning. It was just the two of them in this moment, no past dogging their heels, and no future to speak of.

Isaac watched her with those pale eyes of his as he locked the door and pulled his shirt over his head. He moved easily, the long-standing pain in his left shoulder obviously not bothering him anymore, and undid his jeans to slide them down his thick thighs. He always looked even larger when naked, as if being stripped of the civility of clothing revealed his true self.

Her warrior.

No, not mine anymore.

Isaac considered the room as if surveying a battlefield and finally walked to the oversized chair tucked into the corner directly across from her. She’d bought that chair five years ago just so he’d have something to sit in that couldn’t be termed “doll sized,” so he’d be comfortable here with her. It was such a long time ago.

“Crawl.” The word rasped from him as it pulled against his will.

It had never been like this with them. Rough and brutal and so hot she could barely stand it? Yes. Always. Every time. He was the only man she’d ever been with who treated her as if she wasn’t an object in danger of breaking from a strong word or a harsh touch. Isaac knew she could take everything he gave her and more.

But it had never been cruel. He had never been cruel.

She didn’t care. She meant it when she said she deserved whatever he chose to deal her. He would never, ever hurt her with his strength, but words were more than capable of causing lasting damage. Noemi had apparently developed a masochistic streak, because she welcomed it.

She dropped to her hands and knees and crawled to him. Every agonizing, humiliating movement only spiked her desire higher.

Because it was for Isaac. Because she could feel him watching her, his big body tense with the need to touch her. Because she knew what came next after she reached the chair he sat in.

Noemi would fight to the death before she’d abase herself like this under normal circumstances, but it simply felt right with him. She couldn’t think too hard about that, couldn’t fight through the jagged shard of pain in her throat at the knowledge that this was it for them, so she set it all aside.

Tonight, nothing mattered but what happened in these rooms.

She made it to Isaac and straightened to put her hands on his thighs. The chair was deep enough that she wouldn’t have to climb him to get to his cock and she let herself drink in the sight of him sprawled there like some kind of indolent king. He was beautiful, and tonight he was hers.

“You know what to do.”

She did. Noemi reached out and wrapped her fist around his cock. Rationally, she knew he wasn’t bigger than she remembered, but two years and some intentional forgetting had dulled the memories of how he filled her hand and then some. Her body clenched in response. Yes, yes, I need this.

But…

She made herself release him. “Isaac, I don’t want this to be because I pushed you into doing something you wouldn’t do.” The words tasted foul on her tongue, but she forced them out despite wanting to clutch onto anything to keep him from leaving. “I provoked you.”

“Yeah, you did.” He sifted his fingers through her hair, winding it around his fist until it was just this side of pain. “Getting cold feet?”

Never.

She leaned down and took his cock into her mouth. There was a time when she could deep throat him without hesitation, but she’d long since fallen out of practice. She fought to take him down, battling her body’s instinctive response to gag.

All the while, he kept that grip on her hair. “Stubborn to the bitter end, aren’t you?” He gave her a tug, which she ignored. “Careful there, Noemi. You keep sucking me like that, and I might start to think you missed me.”

She had. God, but she’d missed him so much she could barely breathe past it some nights. She ran her hands up his thighs to dig her fingers into his hips, loving the way his muscles flexed beneath her, an involuntary response he’d never been able to hide from her. She sucked him deeper, harder, falling back into the rhythm of it.

Apparently her body hadn’t forgotten, after all. It was only her mind that has caused her so much in the way of grief.

“Did you swallow those fuckers down until they came just from the sight of your pretty red lips wrapped around their cocks? You always were good at this, Noemi. No, not good. Fucking perfection.”

She dragged herself off his cock, her heart wrenching in her chest. “Stop it.”

Isaac’s face showed nothing, but a storm of emotion lurked in those pale eyes. “You signed on for retribution. It hurt too much to know that none of those other cocks will compare to mine? That’s on you.”

This was a mistake.

They might have loved each other once, but now they seemed incapable of doing anything but driving their respective knives deeper and twisting it every chance they got. She couldn’t walk away. She’d never get another chance with Isaac again. This isn’t a chance, Noemi. This is a goodbye, and you’re a fool if you forget that.

Yes, she knew that. Of course she knew that.

She gave Isaac’s cock another rough stroke and then released him so she could climb into his lap. “You want to keep throwing the past between us? Do what you’ve got to, Isaac.” She fitted herself against him and rolled her hips, dragging herself over the ridge of his cock. It felt good, so damn good, that she did it again. “Are you angrier that I fucked other men—or that you couldn’t fuck the memory of me away any more than I could do it with the memory of you?” She’d tried. Good lord, she’d tried so hard to put him in the past, to carve out a clean break. It hadn’t worked. She wasn’t sure it would ever work.

“You’re not mine anymore, Noemi.” He grasped her hips and urged her down against his cock harder, dragging her nice and slow over him. “You can fuck whoever the hell you want to.”

I don’t want anyone but you.

She didn’t shut the thought down fast enough, and something must have shown on her face, because he shook his head. “No. Don’t look at me with those big blue eyes like I mean shit to you. That’s not what this is about.”

She couldn’t turn off her emotions. If Noemi had learned that trick before now, she would have used it without hesitation more than a few times in her life. She wouldn’t be in this situation to begin with. God, she could barely stand herself right now. This indecisive hurting thing wasn’t Noemi Huxley. She was a powerhouse, a woman who went after what she wanted without hesitation or apology.

So be it.

She reached to rummage in the tiny side table situated next to the oversized chair and came up with a condom. Isaac snatch it out of her hand before she had a chance to do anything with it, holding the foil package in front of his face as he read it. “This is the kind we used.”

No convenient answer arose to explain this away. Lying wouldn’t work. Isaac had always been able to tell when she tried to dissemble. “Yes.”

He stared at it for several beats. “The expiration date should have passed by now.”

“It hasn’t.” She found herself holding her breath and cursed herself for showing even that much reaction.

Isaac finally looked at her, really looked at her, for the first time since he walked into the room. “If I were a stupid man, I’d assume you were replenishing your stash in here in hopes that this thing would happen between us again.”

Since that’d been exactly what she had done, she couldn’t pretend otherwise. “I missed you.”

“Fuck that.” He shook his head once, then again. “Fuck that, Noemi. You don’t get to throw me away like yesterday’s trash and expect me to be grateful to know that you had left me crumbs if only I’d come crawling back to you. That’s shit and you know it.”

It was. She had no defense against it. What was she supposed to say? That she’d missed him so much in those first few months apart that she’d gone so far as to start the process to give up her position as Head of Family in favor of passing it to someone else? She had, but ultimately there was no one else. Huxley Family was responsible for over a hundred people, both members of the family itself and the staff they supported. There were other adult members of the family, but no one capable of running the finances and playing the game of politics as well as Noemi, especially in the wake of her father—the former Head of Family—being a goddamn traitor. If she shirked her duty, people would get hurt, people she was responsible for.

What was her happiness compared with that reality?

So, yes, she’d tortured herself for months on end with the thought of how she could have it all… and she’d come up with nothing. She was expected to marry well, to further Huxley’s interests on that front as well as with their various business accolades. Isaac might be the best man she’d ever known, and she might love him—even still—beyond all reason, but he wasn’t titled. Worse, as far as the nobles of Thalania were concerned, his mother hailed from Russia. Having him serve within the palace security ruffled feathers, but with the King and both Consorts behind him, no one could do anything about it.

To marry him?

She’d jeopardize Huxley’s standing, would undermine the Family’s power in a way that might not be recoverable.

“Noemi.”

She sat back and forced herself to meet his gaze, knowing he’d see everything frantically circling through her mind. Isaac searched her face, his brows lowering. “Noemi,” he said again, as if she’d confessed everything in the space of a heartbeat. “Is this a shrine to the past, or is this you hoping for the future?”

“I don’t know.” The truth ripped itself from her lips, shredding them both in the process. She had no right to offer hope. She wasn’t her own person, and neither was Isaac for that matter. He owed his allegiance to the Crown, not to her. The old saying that a man could not serve two masters applied to both of them, no matter how much he liked to put the responsibility for their current situation on her. Their relationship had been built with the knowledge that they’d never be able to put each other first. Ever.

Convenient of Isaac to forget that when it suited him, but Noemi didn’t have that luxury.

None of that changed this moment, the truth that lay between them like a living thing. “I don’t know,” she repeated. “How could we have a future?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” But the anger was gone from his face, replaced by some emotion she didn’t dare name. He slid an arm under her ass and climbed to his feet easily, as if she was a child instead of a grown woman. Isaac walked unerringly around the furniture in the living room, down the short hall, and into her bedroom. There were different, smaller, suites for the other members of the Huxley Family when they were called upon to visit the palace. This one was hers and hers alone.

Isaac kicked the door shut behind him and laid her on the bed with far more care than he’d touched her with up to this point. He tossed the condom onto the comforter next to her, his gaze going hot and weighted as he slid to his knees next to the bed.

She propped herself onto her elbows and looked down her body at him, her heart in her throat. “I thought you were going to take it out on me.”

“Believe me, Noemi, I’m going to take everything I’m feeling out on you tonight. Starting with your pretty pink pussy. You’re still aching for me, don’t bother to deny it.” He leaned down and his breath caressed her clit. “And I’m dying for a taste.”

4

Isaac knew better than anyone what a bitch hope could be. Hope dangled possibilities in front of a man, and then snatched them away the second he forgot himself and reached for the thing he wanted most. What Isaac wanted most? The one thing he’d spent far too many years chasing with no hope of calling her his own in any real sense of the word?

Noemi.

Always Noemi.

She’d never understood that he’d throw everything away if it meant they were together, had never been able to rationalize that level of sacrifice for personal happiness. Her loyalty, her marriage to duty, they were both things he’d loved and hated about her in equal measure. They made her the woman she was, but they also meant she was forever destined to walk away from him.

One day it’d be for good.

Except…

Damn her for giving him the smallest sliver of hope. She wasn’t willing to admit what the condom meant, the one she kept stashed in their favorite place to fuck like some kind of good luck charm that would bring him back to her. Fine. She didn’t have to admit it. He knew. He always knew what she was thinking, sometimes even before she did.

She missed him. She wanted this thing back between them.

It didn’t matter. It couldn’t matter. Isaac had spent years being her dirty little secret and he’d never go back to that role, not even to keep her in his life.

Maybe it was time to change the rules, to burn their expectations to the ground and redefine the future. It might not work. In fact, he was pretty damn sure it’d blow up in his face. What were three days in the face of a lifetime of conditioning?

He wouldn’t know until he tried.

Isaac grabbed Noemi’s hips and yanked her to the edge of the bed. The easier to get to her. He slid his hands beneath her ass and lifted her to his mouth. The first taste of her… Fuck, but the taste of her always drove him out of his goddamn mind. He devoured her in long licks, driven on by her cries of pleasure and her heels digging into the back of his shoulders. She was drenched from her earlier orgasm and he fucked her with his tongue, needing to be closer, to imprint himself onto her skin.

He moved up to roll her clit between his lips, sucking lightly, teasing her.

And Noemi, his stubborn, precious Noemi, lost the last of her filters. She reached over her head to clench the comforter, her eyes all blue fire and need, her lips moving as sinful gasping words slipped free. “It was always you, Isaac. Damn it, but it was always you for me.”

The ache in his chest compounded, brought on the knowledge that she might be telling him her deepest truth, but once the pleasure passed, it wouldn’t change anything.

It doesn’t matter. It’s the truth now, and fuck all the rest.

He sucked her clit harder, setting his teeth against the sensitive bundle of nerves, and her back bowed. “Oh, fuck, don’t stop. Make me come, baby. You know how I like it.”

Yeah, he did. He really, really fucking did.

Isaac kept up the onslaught, watching her all the while, waiting for the exact moment when her orgasm swept her under. Noemi never looked more wild and true than when she was coming, and he used to live for those moments where her masks came crashing down.

Just. Like. Now.

She came with his name on her lips, the most beautiful thing he’d heard in far too long. He knew better than to expect her to be satisfied with that, though. Not his Noemi, hungry for every last moment of pleasure, needing to pack each moment with him so full of memories as if that would ward off the reality she always chose to go back to

Noemi wiggled out of his grasp and sat up to claim his mouth. She wrapped herself around him, delving between his lips as if savoring the way she tasted on his tongue. Isaac let her urge him up and onto the bed on his back. She touched him everywhere, each move filled with a desperation that only the feeling imploding inside him could match. He stroked his hands down her back to grip her ass, grinding her pussy against his cock. It would be the simplest thing in the world to lift her a little, to change the angle, to slide inside…

Goddamn it.

“Condom, Noemi. Unless you want me to fuck you bare.”

She hesitated. Noemi actually fucking hesitated before she gave herself a shake. “Right. Condom. Of course you’re right.”

Because they weren’t faithful only to each other anymore.

Isaac could have told her that it’d been damn near a year since he gave up fucking away the memory of her, he could have mentioned that he’d been tested since and come up clean, he could have said a lot of things. But it would have invited a response from her, and for all his shit talking, he couldn’t stand the thought that she’d left some fuck’s bed in the country to come to this one with him in the palace. She was her own woman, but some things just weren’t worth knowing.

She ripped open the foil package and shifted back far enough that she could roll the condom over his cock. Noemi’s breath caught, just like it always had when she’d performed this act before. That little hitch of breath slayed him.

Fuck it all, but he never stopped loving her.

He clenched his jaw to keep the damning words inside. If this was goodbye, then it would be one for the record books. Isaac ran his hand down the center of her body, between her breasts, over her stomach, around to grip her hip. “Ride me, Noemi. My cock’s yours for the night. Don’t let it go to waste.”

“Never.” She reached between them and adjusted his angle to notch him at her entrance. She planted her hands on his chest and sank onto him in a smooth movement. Her eyes fluttered shut and she seemed to force them open. “Oh, Isaac.”

He knew what she meant. It was too good, too perfect. There should have been some kind of indicator that this was over, that it was different from all the times before, that they no longer belonged to each other.

Instead, it was just as good as it had always been, their bodies moving together in a rhythm as natural as breathing.

Noemi rolled her hips. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, all moon-pale skin and shining blond hair, like some celestial goddess had wandered into his life and taken a shine to him. Five years spent worshipping at the altar of Noemi, and even on his darkest days, he wouldn’t take a second of it back.

He shifted his grip so he could press his thumb against her clit. Each stroke rubbed her against his touch, and the breathy moan she gave was music to his battered soul. “Tell me you missed me, Noemi.”

“I missed you, Isaac.”

He’d give up damn near anything for a lifetime of the way she said his name when his cock was buried inside her.

It felt so damn good to have her clamped around him, to see the pleasure written across her features and know he was the cause, to hear those sexy little fucking whimpers she made every time her clit dragged against his thumb.

Isaac fought for control, but he and control hadn’t been on speaking terms since he walked into the Huxley suite. “Tell me you love me, Noemi. Because we both fucking know that you do.” He arched up and clasped the back of her neck with his free hand. The shock parting her lips hurt more than it had right to, and Isaac kissed her to prevent her from answering. Better to lose himself in her taste, in the wild stroke of her tongue against his, than to let her admit that she didn’t love him anymore.

That maybe she never had.

No. It was real. It might have gone down in flames, but it was real.

Pleasure sparked down Isaac’s spine, drawing up his balls. He wouldn’t last long, not with Noemi, not like this, but he fought back his orgasm, needing this to last as long as possible, to hold off the inevitable conversation to come. The one where they went through the motions of hurting each other again, all for the sake of some bullshit he wasn’t even sure he believed in anymore.

He toppled Noemi off him and climbed to his feet beside the bed. She flipped onto her stomach and went up on her hands and knees, anticipating him. It should have been easier like this, without his soul laid bare for her every time their eyes met, but nothing was easy with Noemi anymore. Isaac guided his cock into her again, and she arched her back, nearly sending him through the roof.

He picked up his pace, fucking her just shy of brutally, and she slammed back into him with every stroke, urging him on with words and her body. “Yes, yes, don’t stop, yes, Isaac.”

Her pussy clamped hard around him and he was lost. Isaac drove into her once, again, and a third time, coming with a curse. He dropped down next to her on the bed and rolled onto his back. Noemi shifted, giving him a sated smile. “That was some A-plus fucking. It definitely deserves a marriage proposal.” Her eyes went wide. “God, forget I said that.”

It was too late. The memory of how they’d ended so many lovemaking sessions that it had become almost a joke between them—a joke with teeth but a joke nonetheless.

Marry me, Noemi.

Maybe next year, Isaac.

But next year never happened, and now here they were. Isaac sat up. What the hell was he thinking, fucking Noemi again? Except it wasn’t fucking, and you damn well know it. He shut the snide ass voice down just like he had countless times in the past. “No, Noemi, I’m not going to ask you to marry me. I might be an asshole, but I’m not an idiot. You were never going to.”

“That’s not fair.” She sat up and pushed her hair back from her face. “I loved you, Isaac. So much that some days I couldn’t breathe past it. If things were different—”

“Save it.” He held up a hand, her words bouncing around the inside of his skull. Loved. Loved, not love. He knew it. People didn’t stay gone for years on end if they were still harboring a flame for their ex. But somehow hearing her use the past tense brought the sheer stupidity of this whole evening home. “This was a mistake.”

“What?”

He was already on his feet and heading for the living room. “You heard me. There’s no fucking you out of my system, and fucking you only makes this whole thing worse. You chose, Noemi. You chose Huxley over me, and I respected that choice enough to let you walk.” He grabbed his pants off the floor and turned to find her standing in the doorway, her expression lost. “Unless you changed your mind.”

Her lower lip trembled. “I have responsibilities.”

“Yeah, I got that. We don’t have to hash it out again.” He jerked on his clothes, hating the way she watched him, hating the silence that sprang between them, so thick and poisonous with things left unsaid.

No, not unsaid. They’d said everything there was to say. Over and over and over again.

No longer. “I’ll call in my favor with Galen and get someone else to cover your security detail.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.” He headed for the door, leaving his still-bleeding heart on the floor behind him. “Goodbye, Noemi. I sincerely fucking hope I never see you again.”

5

Noemi stood there for a long time, staring at the door Isaac had very carefully not slammed behind him when he left her. For good this time. There should be something, some kind of relief or clean pain or…

But no.

All she felt was a hole gaping open beneath her feet, one that would send her spiraling into darkness for years to come. There was no happy ending here. She likely didn’t deserve one.

It hadn’t been like this last time.

When Noemi cut things off with Isaac, she’d been heartbroken, but a tiny kernel of hope existed that they’d find a way. That kernel might have shrunk as weeks turned into months into years, but it still existed, something she could set her course by. A tiny question of “What if?”

What if they found a way?

What if they made things work?

What if love really could conquer all?

Now she knew the answer. They couldn’t. Things wouldn’t. And love was only as strong as the two people willing to put the work into it.

She walked back to the bedroom, but the rumpled bedspread only reinforced the fact that she would be sleeping alone… forever. Noemi had embraced the comforting lie that someday she’d marry—it was expected, after all—but in the wake of her last time with Isaac, she couldn’t stand the thought of another man’s hands on her. Of sharing her bed, her life, her future with anyone but him.

“What am I doing?” She shook her head, and then did it again. No clarity came, but through the fog of her jumbled thoughts, one word rose to the surface. No.

“No,” she said aloud.

She had sacrificed everything for her Family. She had put her happiness and her personal desires on hold to ensure that Huxley didn’t go under in the wake of her father’s treason. Two years later they were fine. They were flourishing.

If she couldn’t follow her heart’s path now, she’d never be able to do it.

The path forward lay littered with pitfalls and one wrong step could send them tumbling over the edge but…

She looked at the bed again, the memory of what she and Isaac had done superimposing itself over the emptiness now. If she didn’t try, she would spend the rest of her life regretting that choice. She would resent her Family for being the excuse she used to push Isaac away once and for all.

“I love him,” she said to the empty room.

Noemi was no child. She knew that love wasn’t a recipe for lasting happiness, but after nearly a decade of knowing Isaac, she knew Isaac. If they could navigate the first step forward, they would carve out their own path. Together.

This might be her only chance to see if it was even possible.

She rushed into her closet and threw on the first thing she found—a dress that wasn’t the least bit appropriate for this time of day. Noemi barely glanced at her shoes. She could sprint in heels, but she didn’t want to take the time to put them on. In her head, a clock ticked down, marking the growing distance between her soul and Isaac’s. Her opportunity was slipping away. If she didn’t get to him now, she was certain he would never give her another opportunity to get the jumbled words in her chest out.

Noemi burst through her door and down the hallway. As she left the wing with all the Family suites, part of her registered that people were in the halls and staring at her disheveled appearance, but the rest of her was so focused on finding Isaac that she didn’t give a damn. Each smack of her bare feet against the tiled floor became his name.

Isaac. Isaac. Isaac.

She flung herself around a corner, heading for the section of the palace that housed the staff and the security headquarters, and caught sight of him farther down. He stood a head taller than anyone around him, and moved with a purpose she would have had a hard time matching if she wasn’t so determined to reach him. Even so, he would outpace her in seconds and once he reached the locked door of the security staff rooms, she would lose him.

Noemi gathered what was left of the breath in her lungs and shouted, “Isaac! Isaac, stop!”

The handful of people in the hallway scattered, pressing themselves against the wall as she sprinted past. They didn’t leave, though. This gossip was too juicy to pass up, the Head of the Huxley Family causing a scene and chasing down Isaac Kozlov.

He stopped and turned slowly to face her, his expression thunderous. “Go back to your rooms, Lady Huxley.”

“Fuck that.” She skidded to a stop in front of him. “I love you. I love you and I’m sorry and I’m a fool for thinking there was anyone out there for me but you. It’s you, Isaac. It’s always been you, and it will always be you.” He gave her nothing, but that was okay. He’d put himself out for her again and again and again over the years, and she’d always held part of herself back, had always known that it couldn’t be forever.

That ended now.

She went to her knees in front of him. “In the time I’ve loved you, you’ve asked me to marry you five hundred and twenty-four times.” It used to be a joke that was never quite a joke. He’d look at her with so much love and propose, and she’d deflect the conversation to safer topics. Every. Single. Time. No more.

He stared. “You counted.”

“I love you,” she repeated. “I love you and I should have said yes the first time. I can’t take all those missed opportunities back, but I can start again now.” She glanced down at her empty hands. “I don’t have a ring, but I’ll get you one. Marry me, Isaac Kozlov. I love you and I don’t want us to be a dirty little secret anymore.”

He looked over her head as whispers swept the hall. “I think that cat’s out of the bag.”

“I’m sorry.” Her throat threatened to close, but she muscled past the response just like she muscled past the burning in her eyes. “I’m so, so sorry. I don’t deserve for you to say yes, and I know I have penance to pay. I deserve that and more.”

“Fuck, Noemi.” He bent down and pulled her gently to her feet. “I’m sorry I left the way I did, but you don’t have to do this. It’s forgiven. Everything’s forgiven.”

The knot around her heart only tightened in response. She reached up and cupped his face. “No, it’s not. It’s not forgiven yet, and that’s okay.”

“None of the shit that held us apart has changed.”

“Fuck that shit.” She twisted to glare at whoever of their onlookers had gasped. “Seriously, people? If you’re going to eavesdrop, then do it silently.”

“Noemi,” a thread of amusement worked its way into his tone. “Your Family will lose their collective minds.”

“I don’t care. I’m Head of Family and I’ve sacrificed quite enough for them. They’ll deal with it.” She took a tiny breath and let her hands drop. “I know it’s not that easy, Isaac. God, I know better than anyone. But if you love me, we can make this work. So I guess that’s the only question left to answer.” She moved back a little, trying to give him space, to hold her head high even though she was in danger of begging at his feet for him to give the response she desperately needed. “Do you love me?”

He searched her face as if he’d find the answer to her question there. “Noemi—” Isaac cursed long and hard. “Come here.” He hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her to the security door, glared at the camera above it, and then towed her inside. Just like that, they were as close to alone as anyone ever got in the palace. “Noemi, what are you doing?”

“I love you. I don’t know how many different ways I can say it.” The burning in her eyes increased and a single betraying tear slipped free. She lifted her chin, suddenly realizing that this might not play out like she’d hoped when she made her ill-advised sprint after him. “God, I’m sorry. I’m making a scene, which is the last thing you want. It seems that I’m endlessly setting myself up to apologize to you. I’ll just… go.”

“Hold the fuck on.” He planted his hand on the wall next to her head, stopping her before she had a chance to move. “You can’t just run in here like some kind of avenging Valkyrie, spill out words that I never thought I’d hear from you, and then bolt before I have a chance to process. Just… hold the fuck on for a second, okay?”

“Okay,” she said meekly.

Isaac closed his eyes for a long moment and when he opened them, the wildness had bled out. “You love me.”

“Yes.”

“You want to marry me.”

Her breath hitched in her throat. “Yes.”

“What changed in the last ten minutes? Because we were saying goodbye when I was inside you, and now you’re making a scene on your knees and asking for forgiveness.”

She could do this. She’d already made a fool of herself. What was a little more truth, in the face of so much possibility? “The price of losing you forever is too high. I won’t pay it. I won’t let you go if there’s a way forward, and if we can’t find one, then we’ll damn well make one.”

“It won’t be easy. They’ll ostracize you for it.”

“They’ll try. Huxley holds the favor of the Crown and both Consorts. They can’t afford to do more than snub us.” He still hadn’t answered her, and the little kernel of hope in her chest flickered dangerously. “If you love me, we’ll make it work.”

“If I love you?” He gave a harsh laugh. “Woman, I’ve loved you since the day I met you. There is no if. It’s fact.”

“Then…”

He sifted the fingers of his free hand through her hair. “You’re sure? You know me, Noemi. You put a ring on my finger, and there’s no going back, no changing your mind, no worrying about what people might think. I’m yours and you’re mine.”

She was so sure, she could barely get the words out. “Marry me, Isaac Kozlov. Please.”

“Yes.” He lowered his head and kissed her, and then she was in his arms, wrapped up in his body as he plundered her mouth, answering with his body the same way he’d answered with his words. Yes, yes, yes, yes.

Applause broke out somewhere close, and they broke the kiss long enough to see the King and both his Consorts grinning like fools. The King gave a slow smile. “About damn time.”

Consort Galen rolled his eyes. “Weddings make everyone crazy.”

Their third, Meg, laughed. “If that isn’t the truth, I don’t know what is.” She gave a little wave. “Congrats, you two. And as much as I don’t mind the whole PDA thing, you might consider not going to town against that wall.” She winked.

Right. They had an audience. Always.

Isaac started to loosen his grip on her, but Noemi tightened her legs around his waist. “No way. I’m not letting go of you anytime soon.” She leaned up and caught his earlobe with her teeth. “What do you say we go back to the suite and celebrate after we schedule an appointment with the jeweler?”

“Not wasting any time, are you?”

“Hell no. I think we’ve wasted more than enough.” A giddy laugh bubbled up inside her. “I’m not giving you a chance to change your mind. I’d be calling a priest right now if—”

“You’re right,” the King cut in. “We should definitely call a priest.” He snapped his fingers, but Galen was already dialing. He looked at his own phone. “The jeweler is on her way.”

And that was how Noemi found herself, a mere hour later, standing in front of a priest with a new ring on her finger, the Royal Triad at her back, and the love of her life holding her hand. He grinned down at her. “Last chance to change your mind.”

“Not on your life.” She squeezed his hand and turned to the priest. “We’re ready.”

“We are gathered here today…”

Noemi looked up into Isaac’s pale eyes as the priest spoke the familiar words and mouthed, I love you so much.

I love you, too, Noemi. He gave her one of his rare smiles, a gift all the more special because of how close she’d come to losing him. Their path forward wouldn’t be the simplest or the easiest, but it was theirs and theirs alone.

There was only one man she wanted next to her for the duration, and he stood in front of her, wearing her ring on his left hand. Always and forever.

EPILOGUE

“What do you think about Florence?”

Noemi rolled her eyes. “We aren’t naming our daughter Florence. That’s not even on the list.” She reclined against Isaac’s chest, watching the twins chase each other on the beach. The boys had spent several days cooped up in the palace while they were visiting for a political summit and this vacation was their reward for being on their best behavior. Three years old and they thought they knew everything—and had more energy than any single person had right to, let alone two.

Isaac pulled her closer and pressed his big hands to either side of her rounded stomach. After she had the twins, they’d wanted to try again quickly. Irish triplets, Isaac had joked.

It hadn’t quite worked out like that.

She shivered and he pulled her closer in response. Isaac pressed a kiss her to temple. “The baby is fine, Noemi.”

“I know.” They’d just had a doctor’s appointment a couple days ago. She forced herself to take a breath and then another, to fight back the instinctive surge of fear that seemed to accompany her every waking moment now. “I know,” she repeated, and this time it almost sounded like she meant it.

He rubbed her stomach gently. “It won’t happen again.”

Something he couldn’t promise. Something no one could promise. They hadn’t thought to go through losing a baby ever, especially when her pregnancy with the twins had been a dream. She glanced up to track the boys. They had apparently run off some of their energy and were making sandcastles now.

She didn’t want to talk about the fear that shadowed her steps. They’d hit the magic twenty-eight weeks a few weeks ago. Even if the baby came now, she would most likely be okay. There was no reason for the anxiety that plagued her. She gave herself a shake. This wasn’t the time for dark thoughts. “Not Florence.”

Isaac’s laughter rumbled through his chest, vibrating her whole body. The baby kicked in response and she allowed herself a smile. It would be okay. They would be okay.

“Mommy!”

Isaac helped her get to her feet and they walked over to the mound of dirt the twins had created. Noemi leaned over and examined it. “Very impressive, Ben. You, too, Elijah.” She grinned at her boys. “You’re practically architects.”

She kept her attention fully on them as they told her in great detail about this sandcastle and how a dragon and a dinosaur lived there, letting their little voices soothe her. Isaac was right. Everything was perfect. She touched her stomach. Not yet, baby girl. But when you’re ready, we’re all going to be very happy to meet you.

It was Isaac who called it an hour later. He packed them up and got them back to the beach house with an efficiency Noemi could only admire. She used to be efficient like that, back when she could still see her feet. Now she just waddled along, content to let her husband handle the rowdy boys.

Right up until wetness cascaded down her thighs.

Noemi froze. “No. No, no, no, no.”

Instantly, Isaac was at her side. He went still at the sight. “Breathe, Noemi. We’ve got this. Just… Just breathe.” He had his phone out before he finished talking. “Galen? Yeah, I know I just saw you, but I need you to send a medical evac. Now. And have the doctor ready.”

She grabbed his arm. “No, I want our doctor.”

“We’re closer to the palace than we are to home. Trust me, Noemi. You’re safe. The baby is safe. But we don’t have time for Ruth to get up here.” He lowered his voice. “Thanks, Galen.” Isaac hung up. For half a second, he looked just as terrified as Noemi felt, and she knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was remembering those awful days in the hospital, first with the diagnosis and then with the aftermath. He took her shoulders. “We’ve got this.”

“Okay.” She hated how weak she sounded, hated even more the pained noise she made as a contraction ripped through her. Oh god. This was happening. Right now. “The boys.”

“I’ve got them.”

He must have signaled their security team, because a pair of men melted out of the trees and hurried into the house, reappearing a minute later with her bag and the boys. “We have the helicopter ready, Lady Huxley.”

“Thank you,” she managed.

“Noemi, I’m going to carry you now.” Isaac didn’t wait for a response, he scooped her up even as their men did the same with the twins. “Just focus on breathing.” He spoke under his breath, the strength of his arms grounding her when she was in danger of going under. “We’ll be in the palace shortly.”

Thank god they hadn’t gone further after the summit. They were only a twenty minute flight from the palace and the medical people they kept on staff. Noemi didn’t answer. She closed her eyes and focused on breathing through the pain. The contractions seemed intent on making up for lost time, one coming quickly after another, until they almost ran into one continuous one.

This baby was coming and coming quickly.

Please be okay, baby girl. Please, please, please.

The flight passed quickly. Isaac kept the boys distracted even as he never stopped rubbing her back, his big hands a comfort even in the midst of this. The doctor was waiting for them the second they landed, along with both Consorts. Meg rushed forward as Isaac lifted Noemi out of the helicopter. “We have the boys. Everything is covered. Focus on you and that baby.”

“Thank you,” Noemi managed. She got a last glimpse of the twins throwing themselves into Meg and Galen’s arms and then they were through the door and rushing after the doctor down the stairwell and into the private quarters in the palace. Not hers, but the Kings. “We can’t—”

“No time,” the doctor snapped. He directed Isaac to set her down on the couch in the sitting room, firing off brisk questions that Isaac answered, his deep voice tense. The doctor knelt by her knees. “The contractions are coming too quickly.” He checked her and his voice became even firmer. “It’s time to push now, Noemi.”

“It’s too soon!”

“Your baby is crowning and you need to push.” He snapped his fingers as Isaac. “Help her get in a better position. Now, Noemi. Push.”

Her body took over even as her mind tried to protest. She bore down through the agonizing pain of the contraction, driven on by the doctor’s low voice. And again. And again.

And then a wail went through the room, thin and angry and undeniably new. Two nurses burst in the room as the doctor lifted her baby up for her to see. “Congratulations, Lady Huxley.”

“She’s—”

“Healthy and with a solid set of lungs.” One of the nurses wrapped the baby in a blanket and passed her to Isaac as the doctor finished with the aftermath and one of the nurses helped pull off her sundress and get her into a clean robe. The doctor instructed them to stay there until someone could find a room and a wheelchair to get her there, and then they backed off, leaving her and Isaac relatively alone.

He passed over their baby, their baby girl. She looked just like the twins had, tiny and wrinkly and red, though she had a tuff of dark hair, where theirs had been blond.

Safe. Healthy. Alive.

Her throat tried to close, but she couldn’t stop smiling. “What about Josephine?”

“Hmm?” Isaac carefully pulled her close. “Josephine is a good name. I like it.”

“Josephine,” Noemi stroked a single finger over their daughter’s cheek. “She’s perfect.”

“You both are.” He kissed her softly on the lips and then pressed an equally soft one to Josephine’s head. “Fuck, you scared the shit out of me.”

She laughed, and then laughed again in amazement at her ability to make that sound. Joy. This was joy shooting through her chest, banishing the fear that had clung to her for so long. “I scared the shit out of me.” She finally dragged her gaze from their daughter to her husband. “I love you.”

He smoothed her hair back from her face. “I love you too. These last five years have been the happiest in my life, and it’s only getting better as we go.”

“It is, isn’t it?” She let her head rest against his shoulder. “I never thought I could be this happy. It didn’t seem possible.”

His low laugh made her smile. “You haven’t seen anything yet, Noemi. We’re just getting started.”

THANK you so much for reading Isaac and Noemi’s story! I really hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

If you haven’t read the rest of the series, you can pick up THEIRS FOR THE NIGHT, my FREE novella that goes back to where the Royal Triad first began. An exiled prince, his bodyguard, and the bartender they can’t quite manage to leave alone.

Be sure to check out my spin-off series, The Island of Ys! It starts with HIS FORBIDDEN DESIRE, which is the story of Princess Camilla Fitzcharles of Thalania. She’s tracked the man she was supposed to marry to a tropical island where she’s determined to compete in a deadly game called the Great Hunt—and he’s determined to stop her.

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Luca turned his attention back to the door. They had dossiers on all the major players participating in this year’s Wild Hunt. The mob guy from Boston. The oil heir from Houston. The Book Keeper’s representatives. The assassin who was a legend in and of herself.

He counted them off as he scanned the room. “Everyone’s here.”

“Actually…” Ryu trailed off as she walked in. “There’s one more.”

The woman wore the palest pink gown, looking like a spring flower that had sprung up in a winter forest. Her cropped dark hair was styled back from her innocent face and she hesitated in the doorway as if she wasn’t sure she was in the right place. She couldn’t be in the right place. Not a spring flower in a winter forest. No, she was a bunny in the midst of hungry wolves. They’d eat her alive.

Luca took a step forward without intending to, and Ryu caught his arm. “We don’t interfere.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.”

Ryu grimaced. “We don’t interfere where they can see us.”

Luca looked back at the woman. She’d found her courage and shifted through the crowd, oblivious to the way the men tracked her movements, their gazes following her long after she’d passed. She gracefully took a champagne flute from one of the passing servers and lifted it to pink, pink lips.

Fuck.

“Who is that?”

Ryu was the one who compiled the dossiers in the first place, his ability to track down information downright uncanny. “A late addition.”

The hair on the back of Luca’s neck stood up. He forced himself to tear his attention from the woman and face his friend, his brother. “Who. The. Fuck. Is. That?”

Ryu shrugged. “That’s Princess Camilla Fitzcharles of Thalania, second in line to the throne. Or fourth, I guess, since both her brothers have procreated at this point.”

Static blossomed in his head, a roaring he couldn’t mute. Luca spun on his heel, ignoring Ryu’s curse, and stalked through the crowd toward the little lamb wandering to the slaughter. People got out of his way, but they didn’t move far, too intent on watching this little drama play out.

They could keep waiting.

He plucked the champagne flute from her hand, shoved it at a nearby server, and then planted his palm on the small of her back. Christ, she was so tiny, he could practically bracket her waist with his hands if he wanted to. What the fuck was Amarante thinking to invite this little girl come play, let alone this year of all years?

Camilla let out a little exhale of surprise, but she didn’t resist as he all but shoved her through the room and out the door, careful to keep his body between her and the rest of the guests. That sweet submissiveness died the second the door closed behind them.

She stepped away from him, twisting in a move that was as graceful as it seemed second nature. As if she spent a lot of time avoiding men touching her. Fury rose at the thought, fury he had no right to. “What the fuck are you doing here, little girl?”

She swept her dress away from his feet and somehow managed to look down her nose at him despite his having a good foot on her. Fucking royals. They were all the same. The few times in the past that Amarante had allowed them on the island, he’d chosen to make himself scarce. This was different. She might have the snooty thing going for her, but she was as shiny as a new penny.

And as likely to be tossed away by the men in the room behind them.

“I asked you a question.”

“I’m deciding if I feel like answering.” She eyed him, obviously trying to place him with the rest of them. Luca knew what he looked like. A bruiser who just happened to fill out a tux. Dark hair a little too long, scruff on his jaw where he hadn’t bothered to shave, nothing but shadows in his dark eyes. Dangerous.

Because that’s exactly what he was. He made no claims otherwise.

So why wasn’t she quivering in fear and wilting beneath his gaze?

“You don’t get a choice about answering me.”

“Don’t I?” Her pointed chin rose another notch, her blue eyes flashing. “I have my invitation, the same as the others.” Without looking away, she dipped her hand into her tiny purse and fished out a gold embossed invitation with her name scrawled across the front of it.

Princess Camilla Fitzcharles

Goddamn it. Luca barely bit back a growl. He was going to kick Amarante’s ass for this. “I don’t give a fuck about the invitation. You’re leaving. Now.”

“That line of intimidation may work with other representatives that Thalania has sent. It won’t work with me.” She gave him a carefully constructed smile, false and polite. “I’m staying, and I’m competing.”

That’s what he was afraid of.

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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

A huge thank you to Tessa Bailey and Alexa Riley for including this book in the Read Me Romance podcast. It’s been a wonderful experience and I was so excited for a chance to tell Isaac and Noemi’s story.

Thank you as always to Piper, Asa, and Lauren for being sounding boards, motivators, and always there for a chat when I need it. I don’t deserve you!

And, of course, last but never least, thank you to the readers for taking this journey with me. I hope we share many more stories together!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Katee Robert learned to tell her stories at her grandpa’s knee. Her 2015 title, The Marriage Contract, was a RITA finalist, and RT Book Reviews named it ‘a compulsively readable book with just the right amount of suspense and tension.”  When not writing sexy contemporary and romantic suspense, she spends her time playing imaginary games with her children, driving her husband batty with what-if questions, and planning for the inevitable zombie apocalypse.

www.kateerobert.com

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Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Also by Katee Robert

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

About the Author