2018, December 4th

"Fuck!" Aaron screamed in agony.

A brief moment. It was a tiny jab. He would be okay. Zoey justified her actions to herself as she lifted the heel of her 6-inch stiletto off of his shoe. Jesse slammed on the brakes and whipped his head back.

"Are you okay, Your Highness!" Jesse asked in a panic.

“Fine," Aaron grunted through his teeth.

Zoey darted out of the car before Aaron could recover. Aaron's grimace soon turned into a smile. He looked on as Bart took his sister's hand and tried to lead her off like she was a naughty schoolgirl. Zoey wasn't taking orders from anyone. She marched her way up to the gates. The two guards positioned on either end exchanged a look before they bowed in unison.

"Open it up," she said, hands on her hips.

The guards sheepishly looked to Bart for direction, who gave none. Zoey summoned foreign bravado, squared her shoulders and jutted out her chin.

"I, Lady Zoey Arden, demand that you open the gates right now," she insisted.

"My lady!" the guards chorused, responding to the entitlement of nobility by saluting her.

The gates opened. The guards shared another nervous look before their eyes went back to Bart. Without so much as a glance back, Zoey walked right out. Bart dropped his folded arms and stepped up to the men.

"My Lord," one stuttered.

"You're both fired. Get out."

"But Lord Bart!" one of them began.

What was Bart supposed to do with the spoiled brat in the car in front of him? Should he send a car after Zoey? Caines was a big city for a small-town bumpkin. He made his way to Aaron's car, having lost interest in the guards.

"Get out," Bart said once he reached Aaron's door.

"Quite fond of those words, aren't you?" Aaron quipped.

Bart opened the door of the car and crouched down to be at eye level with Aaron.

"If so much as a hair on her head is harmed, I will personally make it my mission in life to see you lose the crown."

Aaron laughed.

"I didn't think you wanted to be a prince, Arden."

"I have no interest in your crown, Your Highness. We both know, though, that you weren't exactly daddy's first choice."

Aaron flinched. The kid had caught him off guard.

"The word is that the House of Beaumont has a new duke."

Bart enjoyed the irritation on Aaron's face, clear evidence that he had struck a nerve. He leaned in closer.

"I'm sure you know him well, Your Highness. Duke James Beaumont," Bart said, slow and deliberate.

The two young men locked eyes. Aaron's face relaxed into a smile and he gestured towards the seat next to him.

"What is your game, Arden? You can't seriously want me for a brother-in-law."

Bart got into the car, staring straight ahead as he adjusted his suit.

"Despite not being the royal family, the House of Arden still has great political sway. Such influence means that the people trust us and because of that trust, they do business with us."

"Yes, yes. The Arden empire is one of the richest in the world and second only to that of the House of Maine in Terres Somnia. I am aware," Aaron replied with an eye roll.

Aaron didn't usually mind playing the fool for people. It put them at ease, thinking he was a troublemaking pretty boy without a clue. This time it wouldn't fly though. No one was picking his bride but him.

Bart loosened his tie and sat back, turning his head to look at Aaron.

"So there's not mere fluff between your ears. It seems you do pay attention."

"I'm not marrying her."

"Let me be clear. She is not some hostage. I will not allow any of you to force her into anything."

"My, my. Tough Bart, looking out for his big sis. Cute."

Bart grabbed the prince by the collar.

"If you go after her and treat her like a plaything, this marriage will never happen. I will consider it a declaration of war. I will take your crown from you, one way or another. I will break you."

Bart did not waver. He might not be a prince, but his blood ran as blue as Aaron's. Being turned into natural rivals at an early age by society led to animosity between the youths.

Despite the Condors being the royal family, the Ardens held a strong claim to the throne. Bart would not hesitate to make himself a nuisance. Nonetheless, Aaron wasn't about to back down from a fight with an Arden.

Aaron shoved Bart back. Their pulses were racing. The air was thick and suffocating. Neither of them blinked.

Maintaining his don't care demeanour, Aaron threw his hands up and pointed out, "What do you want me to do? Our dads have all but signed the marriage licence already. I can't tell the king no."

"No, I suppose that would require balls."

"You have no idea what it's like being me," Aaron snapped.

"And you have no idea how to treat a woman like she's human. She's not like one of your usual girls. She is headstrong and smart. This whole bad boy thing is not going to cut it."

Bart got out of the car as swiftly as he had gotten into it.

"Cheer up Aaron, this is the part you are good at. Find the girl, get her to like you."

Bart turned his gaze on the driver. Jesse bowed his head.

"My Lord."

"Make sure he finds my sister and brings her home. You have until sunset. I will stall until then."

"And if I don't?" Aaron asked.

Bart's face took on an eerie, ugly smirk.

"If you don't, I'm sure the king will love meeting Duke Beaumont."

Two minutes after leaving the Arden estate, Aaron spotted Zoey. Her face red from the heat did nothing to stop her from stomping along. No doubt she regretted her decision to leave but was too proud to go back.

Not that Aaron had any right to judge. The Arden brat had been right about him not having any stones. For years he had known who he wanted his wife to be. Emily Maine. Aaron thought he would convince his parents (and her) of the match by making them think it was their idea. Instead, the responsibilities of being a prince followed him around like a bad penny.

To add insult to injury, James was back. Did Emily know yet? Aaron didn't think his brother would set foot in Caines again after he and Cassie fled five years ago. Now his rival for Emily's heart had returned, right when he was about to make his move. Life was kicking Aaron's ass from all directions.

Zoey sat down on the pavement, her legs crossed and screamed, "What is this fresh hell! It's the bloody middle of winter!"

Aaron started as her screaming pulled him out of his brooding. Jesse and Aaron had been following her for a good half hour from a safe distance. Sweat dripped down the side of her face. She was right. It was warm for this time of the year. Aaron got out of the car with an amused grin. She was making a scene and she didn't care. His kind of girl.

"Your Highness," came Jesse's voice from the driver's seat.

"Wait here," Aaron ordered.

"But Prince Aaron-"

"I won't be long."

Zoey raised her head as an umbrella came into view above her. When her eyes met with the owner's, she groaned.

"Take a hint and go away. Not marrying you, not marrying anyone."

She pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged her legs.

"I haven't spent a minute alone with the person I came to see," Zoey mumbled.

"And who might that be? Should I be jealous?" Aaron returned with a smirk.

He liked looking at her. Despite being an obstacle to what he wanted, she was a good distraction.

Zoey got up and started walking again.

"I have a life you know? I'm starting my PhD soon. I have a mom. I have-"

Here she fell short.

So what if she didn't have a life outside of academia and her mom? That didn't give Duke Arden the right to decide for her. Fuck George.

Deflated and depressed, she was on her way back down when she felt something pressed into her hand. It was the handle of the umbrella. When next she knew, she was being lifted into the air.

"Hey! Put me down," she complained.

He looked into her face and smiled again as she kicked and pounded on his chest. For a moment, his resentment towards his parents gave way. Aaron always was a sucker for a pretty face. This one even came with a brain. He could do worse.

"Hold the umbrella upright. You're going to burn that beautiful skin of yours."

Aaron tightened his grip on her. Zoey felt his fingers press down on her thigh. The breath got caught in her throat.

"I'm not so bad to spend time with, am I?"

Zoey didn't answer. She stilled as she felt his lips press up against her ear. Her head tilted back cautiously as she raised her face to his to meet his eye. The smile turned into a crooked grin of triumph.

She gulped. He was holding her in his big, warm arms. Heat crawled up her neck and coloured her cheeks a furious red. Her mind cleared, only to be immediately flooded by the oceans in his eyes. She stopped struggling. No anger toward her parents or concerns about getting home plagued her. Her mind's sole focus was his handsome face being so close to hers.

Enjoying her eyes on him, Aaron took Zoey off-guard once more. He walked them to a nearby oak tree, and then lowered Zoey down on a nearby bench.

"Be right back," he said with a wink as he turned away from her.

As she sat there, trying to make sense of her racing heart, she watched Aaron buy two ice-creams from a man on a bicycle. The man was all smiles and refused to take the prince's money. Aaron slipped a few notes into the man's pocket as he distracted him with light banter.

It was almost a relief to find that she wasn't the only one charmed by him, maddening as his charm was. Aaron returned, dropped next to her and handed her an ice cream.

"If this is a proposal, the answer is still no," she said, but she accepted his offering.

She pulled her legs up on the bench and crossed them as she started on her ice cream.

"Not a proposal of marriage, but I suppose a proposal of sorts."

He'd outwitted his father and Duke Arden, only to let an ice cream wrapper get the better of him. There was a joke in there somewhere he thought as he continued to struggle with unwrapping the cone.

Without a word, Zoey took his ice cream and replaced it with hers. She then set to work ripping the wrapping off of his cone. Her actions were unladylike and bold. Two of Aaron's favourite things in a woman.

"Well, what is this proposal then?" she asked, deciding to humour him.

Her tongue swept over the top of the new ice cream. It was his turn to stare. He watched her until he felt something cold drip down onto his hand. The ice cream was melting.

"Go out with me," he said, making quick work of what used to be her cone.

Zoey swallowed a big chunk of ice cream, jumped up and started hopping up and down.

"What is it? Are you okay?" he asked, laying a hand on her shoulder as came to stare into her face.

"Again with the touching," she mumbled.

"Excuse me?"

She jumped, this one higher than the previous ones.

"So cold! Brain freeze!"

"That's what you get for shuffling it all down like that," he teased, pulling her in for a hug.

As he set about rubbing her back in an attempt to warm her up, Zoey thought about the last time someone asked her out. It happened at her first frat party in college. A drunk frat boy asked her out in front of everyone. Instead of saying no like a normal person, she ran away. Zoey never went to another party after that.

"Pretty sure this is at least a third date thing," she mumbled

Aaron pulled away, letting his hands linger on her arms as he rubbed them up and down.

"Depends on who the date is with," he said, oozing confidence.

There was something so sexy about the way he spoke. How unrelenting, yet gentle he was in pursuing her. He was like something from a spicy dream. Always knew exactly what to say. This only added to her nervousness.

"No," she said flatly, walking away quickly. "But thanks for the ice cream."

Aaron had to hurry to catch up to her. He grabbed the umbrella.

"At least let me drive you back to the Arden mansion. Everyone is probably worried and you can't exactly walk back to Rosa."

With these words, the ridiculousness of her leaving the way she did hit home. Of course, she knew she couldn’t walk back to Rosa. It was a good 16-hour drive, never mind walking. But then she hadn't been thinking when she left the estate.

They had doubled back without her realising it. She blamed him. He made her too flustered to think straight. Zoey saw Aaron's car and Jesse waiting in front of it in the distance.

"Tell you what, Your Highness. If you carry me back to the estate, I will go out with you."

Aaron looked back at the car. Zoey snorted.

"Shall we take the car then, Your Highness?"

"One sec."

With a determined look on his face, Aaron jogged over to Jesse and they struck up a conversation. Jesse's face took on a sour expression that got worse the longer they spoke. On Aaron's jog back, she watched Jesse shake his head, get into the car and drive off.

Zoey's face went pale.

"Where is he going?"

"We won't be needing a car if I'm going to carry you home, now will we?"

Zoey remembered his arms around her and she became flustered all over again.

Then she saw him and couldn't help letting out a laugh. He was squatting with his knees bent and his back to her.

"You must be joking."

He got up, turned around, reached out and started twirling one of her golden locks around his finger.

"Would you prefer I carry you like before, princess?"

"Just turn around already."

2019, March 4th

Zoey tossed and turned in her bed. Bart had retired to his room for the night, leaving Zoey alone to watch the clock count down.

In 20 minutes, James' deadline would be up. She went through her phone, which Bart had returned to her after much debate and warning, and groaned. The missed calls from Aaron were racking up. Her inbox was full. Zoey's mom had called and left a few messages too. How would she tell her mom what had happened?

That was a problem for tomorrow. Tonight, she had bigger fish to fry. She texted her mom to let her know that she was okay and that she would call in the morning. 15 minutes left. It would take at least 10 to get to the place where she had met the duke/prince earlier that night.

It was bizarre. Less so that Duke Beaumont turned out to be a prince. More so that Zoey would have married Aaron at the end of the month without even knowing he had a brother. What else would fall through the cracks about Aaron that his fiancée didn't know?

Zoey quietly crawled out of bed. Fortune smiled upon her. Bart had left the car keys on the kitchen table of the pretty little cottage. She grabbed them, tiptoed out the front door and made her way to the black SUV parked out front on the street.

"Sorry Bart," she said as she started the car, "but I need some answers."

She hunched her shoulders, praying that the noise of the engine would not wake Bart up.

James was parked on the side of the road where he had cut Bart off two hours ago. He looked back at the suitcase in the backseat. Why wasn't he already headed to the airport?

It was a ridiculous notion, marrying someone who proposed to you in the middle of the road in a fit of rage. Coming back here was a mistake.

The engine of his black Mercedes roared to life just as a black SUV pulled up. This time Zoey cut him off.

"Hi" was all she could manage.

There was a look of expectation on her face. Surely she wasn't here to agree to his obscene proposal.

"Get in," he said, unlocking the doors of the car.

Zoey hesitated before sliding out of the driver's seat and pocketing the keys of the SUV. She locked the doors before getting into James' car.

"Why are you here?" he asked, looking out the window.

"You don't waste any time," she muttered, staring at the side of his face.

The full weight of James' looks struck her. Finally, she understood why he felt so familiar. His cheekbones, that strong jawline, the shape of his eyes and the way his lips came together. They were so different in nature that it was easy to miss the marked resemblance. These men were the kind of handsome that would make a girl lose her wits just by laying eyes on them.

"Are you going to answer the question or are you going to stare at me all night?"

Startled, she looked away. The blush on her cheeks earned her the smallest of smiles. He was more subtle than she was, stealing glimpses of her pretty face framed by messy golden curls.

She seemed too nervous for words, so James tried again.

"Emily Maine."

This got her attention.

"Excuse me?"

"The woman in the photo. Her name is Emily Maine. She's our childhood friend. We did everything together, the three of us. It's a bit cliche, but we both liked her. She's kind of the one that got away for him."

Back to the silence. Zoey's tongue felt frozen. His robotic demeanour gave her chills.

Losing patience, James gave up on words and started the car. Zoey's face scrunched up in a panic.

"Relax," he said, reversing away from the SUV. "I'm not dragging you to the altar or anything."

Five minutes later, he pulled up to a skyscraper. Above the glass double doors in bold cursive letters stood the words Eleganter Ludo. Zoey was wearing an old sweatshirt and jeans without so much as eyeliner on. Her blonde curls were shooting off in every direction. Complete with a doorman, this hotel was not for someone who looked like she had tumbled out of a laundry basket.

James got out of the car. The drive had not calmed her in the least. He went over to her side of the car, opened the door and held out a hand to her. She took it, her own somewhat shaky.

"Let's have a drink," he said, as he pulled an old cap over her head.

A drink? Who comes to a place like this to have a drink? Three months into living with nobles and Zoey still felt out of place.

Looking around, James took off his jacket and pulled it over her shoulders. His cheek grazed hers as he adjusted it. He was so close that she could smell the scent of damp earth after rain and something else. Something so unique to him that she struggled to name it.

The voids of blackness that were his eyes caught the light and she could not help but stare. Looking into his eyes was like seeing the heart of nature on a refreshing summer day.

James caught the look in her eyes. He felt her shoulders relax under his hands as she looked at his face up close. It surprised him that this gallant woman was the same one he had been sitting next to a minute ago. Curious to know how long she would last, he looked away as her eyes probed his face.

They took turns, stealing glimpses at each other until their eyes met. The feeling of familiarity settled between them again. Whatever this back and forth was, it felt inappropriate. James pulled away.

He gestured to the jacket and cap.

"It's so people don't recognize you," he said, walking ahead of her.

As soon as James moved away, Aaron's name popped into Zoey's mind and everything came flooding back. The photograph. Aaron's betrayal. Bart rushing her out of the house like some thief in the night. The soul-crushing pain and buckets of tears that followed.

James looked back to find Zoey had not moved. She was staring down at her feet, fresh tears streaking her cheeks. With a sigh, he walked back to her and held out his arm. She gripped his arm tighter than he would have liked, but at least they were moving again.

Zoey was escorted up to the penthouse suite with instructions to change. James had invited her to dinner.

Everything about the suite announced that you were not at home. From the mints on the pillow to the silk sheets, everything was premium. The bathtub was big enough to seat a dozen people comfortably. The cream carpet was soft and thick and the couch hugged you as you sank into the cushions. Even the warm shades of pastel green seemed to draw you in.

After taking in the room, Zoey slipped into the dress selected for her by James. He'd paired a rose-red dress with red stilettos that complemented her natural beauty. She drew a quick brush through her hair and hoped the natural curl look would not fail her.

Zoey found herself questioning her choice to come here tonight. What Aaron did was wrong, but this wasn't right either. The notion both excited and alarmed her.

The restaurants on her dates with Aaron were usually empty, giving it a much more intimate feel. Still, here she was, about to have dinner with a man who wanted to marry her. Said man was Aaron's brother, who was technically still her fiance.

Zoey's eyes darted around nervously as she entered the restaurant.

James took her in as Zoey was shown to their table. He saw her in ball gowns and at CC's show, done up more prettily than a princess. His eyes never lingered too long on her though, as they always sought out another. Tonight he didn't have this feeble excuse for not looking.

He took in every curve the dress draped. Her long eyelashes drew you to her big, hazel-brown eyes. Her lips shimmered as she licked them nervously. The Cascades of blonde curls flowed down her shoulders, giving her a lazy day look. Stripped of the usual adornments, she was still beautiful.

She took the seat across from him and turned her nervousness into a smile.

"Sorry I'm such a mess, I didn't think it through when I left," she said, biting her lip.

He swallowed a chuckle. They had very different thoughts about her appearance.

"You look lovely, Lady Zoey," he flattered.

She frowned in disbelief, then corrected herself and pasted a smile on her face. This time he did laugh. It was a short one, but it slipped out. Her eyes warmed to the sound of his laughter. She returned it with a more genuine smile.

"Good evening, Your Grace. My Lady. Would My Lady like something to drink?" the waiter asked, stepping forward.

"A glass of red wine, please," she answered.

"No," James retorted.

"Weren't you the one that wanted to have a drink?"

James was starting to lose patience with himself. Never had he hesitated so much in his life as he had tonight, because of this woman.

"I changed my mind," he said, picking up a menu.

She glanced at the double shot of whiskey to the right of his hand and muttered, "Obviously."

"How about some dinner?" James offered, refusing to acknowledge her sarcasm.

"Already ate," she said tightly.

"Dessert then," he persisted.

"Oh, ice cream!" she said, hyped up like a little child as she sat upright.

She corrected again and pursed her lips into a thin line.

James' eyes sparkled in amusement.

He turned to the waiter and said, "The lady will have some of all the ice cream flavours that you have available."

Her eyes widened.

"James," she began.

She blew up her cheeks and corrected again.

"Your Grace, that's not-"

"James is fine."

Then he turned to the waiter again, who bowed and said, "Right away, Your Grace."

She sank back into her seat and let out a sigh, uncertain she should trust herself to speak anymore. Where was her weariness of the man with nothing in his eyes? Better still, where was that man?

She looked him over. The darkness in his eyes was gone, but the warmth in them that replaced it now was worse. What was she doing, playing pretend like everything hadn't come crashing down? She needed to ask her questions and be on her way before Bart discovered she was gone.

A few minutes later, half a dozen waiters laid the ice cream out on their table. Her eyes turned into saucers as she lost count of the bowls. They were neatly packed next to each other. Each contained two perfect scoops of ice cream.

"Dig in," he said, picking up a spoon.

"Do you think they're in love?" Zoey asked.

James' spoon hovered over a bowl of Black Walnut. He snickered.

"Yesterday I was getting my royal attire fitted for the wedding. Yesterday I knew the answer to your question. Today, your guess is as good as mine." He spat the words out and shoved the ice cream into his mouth. "You don't need to worry about any of this. Tell Bart you want to go home and have a good, normal life."

Zoey wasn't satisfied. She wanted a real answer. It dawned on her that she was sitting down with the wrong man, for fear of sitting down with the right one.

"Are you unproposing right now?" she asked, blocking his spoon with her own as he headed for a new bowl of ice cream.

It was Fudge Ripple. Zoey wanted that Fudge Ripple all to herself.

"It was a crazy idea, likely born from the insanity that follows a broken heart," James answered with a shrug.

"What if I wanted to stay and marry him anyway?"

Zoey was getting desperate now as the heavy feeling returned to her chest. The more questions she asked, the worse it got. Yet, she couldn't help herself.

He ran his fingers through his hair and looked straight into her tear-filled eyes.

"Believe me, I've been where you are. It will never be just you and him. There will always be her."

Zoey didn't like this answer. The heaviness on her chest was now all-consuming. Who was he to say that? How could he know that for sure? Next came the loneliness. He was Aaron's brother, that's who. That's how. She gripped her spoon with gusto and shuffled the ice cream down her throat. All he could do was watch her fall apart right in front of him.

One hour later, the pair found themselves on Height of Caines, a popular spot on a mountain where kids went to park. From Height of Caines you could see the entire city lit up in all its glory. James wasn't sure why he had let her bring him here. She was hitting the whiskey pretty hard and it was clear she did not hold her liquor well.

"Damn thish sffut is bittrer," she slurred.

He unfolded his arms and went to take the bottle from her.

"No!" she yelled, ducking and dodging him.

"It's time to go home Zoey," he said, watching her with glazed-over eyes.

He put his arm around her, restrained both her arms and took the bottle from her easily.

"He proposed right here! He said, 'Zoey, marry me already!'" she yelled out into the night.

James thought back to Emily's smile when he went down on one knee. He felt so content when she said yes. Dismay clouded his judgement. The whiskey in his hand was smooth, rich, would burn in the right way and was very expensive. He took a swig.

A few mouthfuls of whiskey ago his eyes were open. But that couldn't be, because the sun was already high up in the sky. The suite was completely trashed like he'd hosted a bachelor party. James' head weighed a ton.

He let out a groan as he bent down to pick up his shirt. About halfway down, he spotted the dress Zoey wore last night. It stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Shit," he said, letting out a groan as he searched the suite.

She was nowhere to be found. He pulled on his clothes and ran to the elevator barefoot. As he watched the elevator count down from 40, he scanned his phone.

He had missed calls from a million people, including both of his parents and Aaron. He skimmed through his text messages. They didn't make any sense.

Aaron wanted to rip his head off. What the hell was he angry about? James should be the one who was blowing up his phone with angry texts.

King Henry demanded to see James as soon as the former could send a car. Why would Henry need to send a car? He didn't send a car for James once since he got back to Caines three months ago.

His mother's texts were the most bewildering.

Who is she?

I thought you were marrying into the family of Maine.

Did your father make you do this?

Like a puzzle piece that refused to fit had finally fallen into place, in a matter of seconds he remembered. Not the whole of it, but enough to understand.

"Oh fuck!" he cursed.

James dashed from the elevator as soon as the doors opened. He sped past reception. Then went straight towards the blinding flashes and reporters that surrounded her.

Zoey choked. She was like a lost lamb being brought to the slaughter. He went for her without thinking.

Her eyes were darting around as she tried to figure out what to do. He pulled her against his chest and draped his jacket over her head and shoulders.

Duke Beaumont, what is the nature of your relationship with Lady Zoey?

Lady Zoey, what about your engagement to the crown prince?

Are you the bastard son of the king?

Is this relationship an attempt to replace Prince Aaron as crown prince?

On and on the questions flowed.

Zoey's head was spinning. James' experience with the press served him well. He acted quickly and dragged her back inside, shutting the door before the press could enter. The manager of the hotel rushed up to them as hotel staff and security scurried to keep the press out.

"My apologies, Your Grace! They came out of nowhere. Rest assured that we will find that leak and-"

James vaguely heard the words the manager said to him. Everything around him was a faraway dream. The woman in his arms staining his shirt with tears was the only thing that was real.

"Just get them out of here!" he ordered, cutting the manager off as he rushed Zoey into an elevator.

"Of course, Your Grace!"

The manager hurried off through the crowd of guests that had gathered to see what was going on.

When the doors of the elevator closed, James withdrew the jacket from her shoulders. She was breathing heavily, but at least the crying had stopped. Steadying herself, she turned to him. Grabbed his left wrist and lifted her left hand to show him the matching wedding bands.

"What on earth happened last night!"

She was nowhere to be found. He pulled on his clothes and ran to the elevator barefoot. As he watched the elevator count down from 40, he scanned his phone.

He had missed calls from a million people, including both of his parents and Aaron. He skimmed through his text messages. They didn't make any sense.

Aaron wanted to rip his head off. What the hell was he angry about? James should be the one who was blowing up his phone with angry texts.

King Henry demanded to see James as soon as the former could send a car. Why would Henry need to send a car? He didn't send a car for James once since he got back to Caines three months ago.

His mother's texts were the most bewildering.

Who is she?

I thought you were marrying into the family of Maine.

Did your father make you do this?

Like a puzzle piece that refused to fit had finally fallen into place, in a matter of seconds he remembered. Not the whole of it, but enough to understand.

"Oh fuck!" he cursed.

James dashed from the elevator as soon as the doors opened. He sped past reception. Then went straight towards the blinding flashes and reporters that surrounded her.

Zoey choked. She was like a lost lamb being brought to the slaughter. He went for her without thinking.

Her eyes were darting around as she tried to figure out what to do. He pulled her against his chest and draped his jacket over her head and shoulders.

Duke Beaumont, what is the nature of your relationship with Lady Zoey?

Lady Zoey, what about your engagement to the crown prince?

Are you the bastard son of the king?

Is this relationship an attempt to replace Prince Aaron as crown prince?

On and on the questions flowed.

Zoey's head was spinning. James' experience with the press served him well. He acted quickly and dragged her back inside, shutting the door before the press could enter. The manager of the hotel rushed up to them as hotel staff and security scurried to keep the press out.

"My apologies, Your Grace! They came out of nowhere. Rest assured that we will find that leak and-"

James vaguely heard the words the manager said to him. Everything around him was a faraway dream. The woman in his arms staining his shirt with tears was the only thing that was real.

"Just get them out of here!" he ordered, cutting the manager off as he rushed Zoey into an elevator.

"Of course, Your Grace!"

The manager hurried off through the crowd of guests that had gathered to see what was going on.

When the doors of the elevator closed, James withdrew the jacket from her shoulders. She was breathing heavily, but at least the crying had stopped. Steadying herself, she turned to him. Grabbed his left wrist and lifted her left hand to show him the matching wedding bands.

"What on earth happened last night!"