A Wicked Truth (50 page)

I reached down and took Lona's arms, raising her to her feet. “I'm sorry,” I said. I managed an embarrassed smile. “Too much to drink tonight.”

I tugged myself back in, made a hasty exit from Lona’s room and moments later I was heading back to the bar. I fully intended to continue drinking the rest of the evening. I would make sure by the end of the night I’d consumed enough alcohol so I wouldn't remember this mortifying day.

Chapter 19

Reed

I was a glutton for punishment. Stupidly masochistic. A moron bent on self-destruction. Basically, a fucking idiot.

For a reason that was still escaping me, I'd actually been in Saja for a week. A mother-fucking week. I should've left as soon as Nami told me she was choosing Tanek. But I'd stayed. Then I should've booked the first flight after I'd seen her go through with the wedding. But, no, I'd decided to stick around. Of course, any normal person with common sense would've grabbed any available seat to anywhere but here after the disastrous night I couldn't get it up.

As I'd already proven, however, I wasn't a normal person and I most certainly didn't have common sense. I used to. In fact, I had always considered myself to be the sensible one, the person who always made the right choices. Or, at least, I had been.

What had happened to that guy? I felt like every decision I've made lately had been the wrong one. When had I started fucking everything up? A part of me wanted to say that the bad choices had started here, or maybe in Europe, but I knew that I'd been making a mess of things before that. Had it been when I'd chosen Britni over Piper?

Or maybe I was lying to myself completely. Did I only think I was sensible before because I'd always made good business decisions? Because I'd always followed what my parents had told me to do? Was that why I kept fucking up my own decisions? Because I'd never learned how to make the right ones?

I squinted against the sun as I stepped outside the hotel. I squinted, pain spiking in my temples as I put on my sunglasses. I'd basically spent the entire past week hungover or drunk. I'd started Monday morning by buying some beer and heading down to the beach where I'd made my way through a six pack while checking out the gorgeous women who were sunbathing there. I'd eaten practically nothing, but had gotten another six pack for the rest of the day. I'd flirted with a couple women, but hadn't let it go any further than flirting. When the sun had begun to set, I'd headed back to my room, eating something from room service, then finished off whatever alcohol I'd had left.

Despite the way my head had pounded the next day, I'd decided that I'd liked what I'd done the day before. Things sort of blurred together after that. I would spend the day drinking and flirting on one of the most beautiful beaches I'd ever seen without caring about the view. I had people all around but, aside from the few women who'd come by to hit on me, no one talked to me. It was a great combination of being alone and being with people. I didn't have to worry about condemning looks while I drank, probably because everyone assumed I was on vacation. One of the things I'd learned while in Europe was that people didn't expect much of Americans in general, and even less of those on vacation.

I supposed I technically was on vacation. I wasn't working, after all. Could I really consider it a vacation since I'd quit with plans to start my own business? Or did the fact that I had absolutely no ambition at the moment and no concrete idea of what I wanted to do negate my original intentions?

I paid the clerk for my beer and tried to forget about the real world. I had plenty of money. Even staying here, it would take me years to burn through what I had. Unless, of course, I did something stupid. I'd known kids back in Philadelphia who'd blow thousands of dollars in a single night gambling or at a strip club. Then there were impulse buys like cars, but I wasn't in the mood to spend money on random things.

I found my usual spot on the beach taken and decided to head a bit further down. There was space here, but it was crowded enough that I didn't want to stay. Since it was a beautiful Saturday afternoon, I figured there'd be a lot of people on the beach, but it was even more crowded than I'd expected.

I sighed as I trudged through the sand, a beach towel under one arm, my beer under the other. The sun was overhead and I could feel the rays beating down on me. Sweat glistened on my skin as I made my way around scantily-clad men and women sunbathing, kids playing catch and a few families eating lunch. The sandy beach was starting to turn into an area that was a bit more rocky, and therefore less desirable, but there were still people setting up.

I crossed over to a large boulder that sat against a gradually rising cliff and decided this was far enough. I didn't care about getting to the water, so the rocks between me and the ocean weren't a problem, and the breeze that blew in was strong and cool.

I spread the towel at the base of the boulder and sat down, leaning back against the cool rock. The cliff offered only a small bit of shade, but it was enough. I cracked open a beer and settled in to people watch. Or, more accurately, stare at the ocean and pretend that I cared about life in general. Little thoughts would sometimes creep in, whispers asking what I was going to do next, reminding me that I couldn't exactly stay in Saja indefinitely. I was a tourist, not a citizen, and I'd eventually have to leave. Whenever any of those thoughts occurred, I'd take another drink.

I had a bit of a buzz going on by mid-afternoon, but I was still sober. Sober enough to be interested when I heard a murmur going through the crowd. I stood up and began walking towards the noise. I didn't know what was going on, but it sounded like it would be a good distraction and that's what I really needed.

I was at the back of the crowd, trying to see over a throng of heads, when I heard someone say a word I recognized even though it wasn't in English.

“...Namisa...”

My stomach flipped and I suddenly wished I'd eaten something this morning. The beer I'd drank was sloshing around, threatening to make a reappearance. It couldn't be true, I told myself. Nami was on her honeymoon. Someone must've just been talking about the wedding and it had nothing to do with the commotion I was hearing. Even if she was back from her honeymoon, she wouldn't be here, on a beach. She'd be off with her new husband doing wife things or queen preparation or whatever the hell it was someone like her did.

Then the crowd parted and I saw her.

Bodyguards surrounded her, moving people out of the way both by their presence as well as physically when some didn't move fast enough. I didn't see Tomas or Kai, but I supposed they were probably enjoying their time at home since they'd been gone for so long. If anyone deserved a vacation, it was those two. I wasn't particularly fond of either of them, but they'd spent years with Nami, almost constantly on duty. It couldn't have been easy.

The new guards – or at least new for me – weren't as big as Tomas and Kai, but they weren't exactly little either. Still, I could see Nami in the center.

I could tell something wasn't quite right just by the way she was walking. Shoulders hunched forward, arms around her waist. Her head was down, eyes on the ground. As she drew closer, I could see other physical differences. She was wearing a classically cut dress, a bit too fancy for the beach, I would've thought, but definitely something appropriate for a princess when she was out and about with her subjects. I knew it had to have been made specifically for her, but I could see now that it didn't fit right, as if she'd lost weight since she'd last worn it. The color should've been perfect for her too, but her skin was pale, as if she'd been ill.

I felt a flash of concern. Was she sick? It would explain everything, but I couldn't figure out why she'd be walking on the beach if she was ill. Surely the royal family had private physicians who would’ve made sure she stay in bed until she recuperated fully. And even if he or she had recommended exercise, I doubted this would've been the place to go. The palace had beautiful grounds she could've walked around.

She was almost directly across from me and I could see the bags under her eyes. She hadn't been sleeping well. A pain went through me. Of course she hadn't. She'd been married for a week. She and her husband had probably been busy trying to get that all-important heir to the throne. The thought of it made me want to throw up.

I started to turn away, not wanting to risk her seeing me. The last thing I needed was for her to realize I'd stuck around like some love-sick loser. As I started to go, however, I saw something else out of the corner of my eye. No one else would've caught it because no one knew her body like I did. I'd memorized it, dreamed of it.

On her upper arm, not quite covered by her sleeve, was a bruise. She'd used make-up on it, but I could still see it. As she shifted, her sleeve moved and I could clearly identify the shape.

Fingers.

Rage filled me, driving away everything else I'd been feeling. It all made sense now. Her appearance, the way she held herself. Why she'd seemed distant, different. The bastard was hurting her, and there was nothing I could do to stop him. Or was there?

The End of Vol. 2

Exotic Desires
Vol. III

Chapter 1

Reed

I was aware that there were people around me, jostling to get in a better position to see their princess, but I barely heard or felt them. Every ounce of my attention was focused on her.

On the finger-shaped bruises on her arm.

It didn't feel real, like I was imagining things. Like my subconscious was making me see things that weren't really there, trying to convince me that Nami's marriage wasn't just one of obligation, but one of violence.

She was Princess Namisa Carrmoni, the next queen of Saja. She had fucking bodyguards whose entire purpose was to put themselves in harm's way for her. How the hell was her husband hurting her?

And I knew it had to be him. Tanek Nekane. The very thought of him made my already hot blood boil. I could picture the first time I'd seen him, sitting next to her, curling his hand around hers as if to tell me that she was his.

I couldn't just stand here and let her walk by, let her go back to
him
.

I didn't care that she had chosen him and that their marriage was none of my business. It didn't matter that we were on a public beach or that Nami was surrounded by bodyguards. I had to get to her.

I hadn't realized that I'd made the conscious decision to move until I was only a few feet away. I could see even more clearly how much she'd changed since the wedding. Her eyes, normally a warm, sparkling cyan, were dull and listless as they focused on the beach in front of her. Her skin was surprisingly pale under its normally golden shade. Pale except for the place on her arm where her make-up didn't quite cover-up the bruises. I doubted anyone else could see them unless they were looking closely, and even then, they didn't know her body the way I did.

I swallowed hard. She'd rejected me, married another man, but none of that changed how I felt about her. God help me, I loved her.

“Nami!” I called out her name as I took another step towards her, reaching out a hand.

I knew she heard me. I saw her body stiffen, her shoulders tense. She started to turn when one of the bodyguards said something sharply in their native language. I didn't get the chance to say anything else, to ask her to talk to me, because another bodyguard had decided he didn't like the American tourist being so friendly with his princess.

One large hand grabbed my arm, spinning me around so that I met the other hand as it was coming. The fist collided with the side of my face and pain exploded along my jaw. The blow made me spin around, tears welling up in my eyes. I shook my head to clear it, anger quickly overriding the pain.

I let myself complete the turn, let it give me extra momentum as I made a fist. He hadn't expected me to fight back so my punch caught him off guard. Still, he was solid and possibly military. A fist to the stomach didn't do more than make him double over for a moment before he rushed at me.

Maybe hitting him hadn't been my best idea.

Before he tackled me, I caught a glimpse of Nami's shocked expression before I landed on the hot sand. The bodyguard was shouting something, but it wasn't English so it didn't really matter. What did matter was keeping my arms up to cover my face and my knees up to my chest. I knew how to fight, in general at least, but I also knew how to protect myself when fighting back wasn't an option.

I heard Nami's voice, sharp and commanding. The man hitting me stopped and it didn't take a genius to figure out it was because of what she'd said. I waited for her to come over to me, but she didn't. I heard people talking, walking, but no one came near. After a moment, I opened my eyes. Nami was gone. A few people were staring at me, but there were no cops, no guards. Only my total embarrassment and the bruises I could feel already starting to form.

I winced as I straightened my legs and got to my feet. Sand stuck to my sweaty skin and my knuckles throbbed. I could feel the side of my face swelling. I needed to get out of here. I staggered back up to where I'd left my things, but left the beer in the sand. Someone would come along and claim it most likely. They were welcome to it. I'd had enough alcohol for today.

I made my way back to the hotel on foot. Air-conditioning and getting off my feet sounded good, but I preferred to get strange looks from people on the sidewalk rather than trying to explain my appearance to a cab driver. The desk clerk did a double-take as I came into the lobby. That, I supposed, proved more than anything else that while Saja did have its fair share of tourists taking advantage of the beautiful island, it wasn't a typical tourism kind of place. Somewhere like Las Vegas, they wouldn't have looked twice at someone stumbling in like me.