Royal Bastard (Instantly Royal 1)

…

Dancing with Brooke yesterday was supposed to have been a joke, a way to lighten the mood. Too bad the joke was on him, because here he was again lying in his bed alone, staring at the canopy as the sun came up and thinking about a certain tempting blonde w

ho had fit perfectly in his arms. Resisting the urge to call out to Lady Lemons was the last thing he wanted, but he’d be a total asshole to wake her up this early in the morning. But if she was awake already… He held his breath and strained his ears, trying to listen through the walls and the shut connecting door.

At first, he couldn’t hear anything, and then he picked up on something—a quiet buzzing. What in the hell? He closed his eyes and concentrated, trying to figure out what the noise was. The pitch of the buzzing changed, almost as if whatever it was was being moved around like she was—

His eyes snapped open. Was Lady Lemons using a vibrator? He let out a slow breath from his burning lungs and then held it again, willing the thoughts in his head to shut the fuck up so he could listen. There it was.

Fuck. He was a total perv to listen, but he couldn’t stop. He was a bad human being. At the moment, he could live with that.

Closing his eyes, he pictured the scene on the other side of that closed door. She’d be in that tank top and shorts set she’d worn the other night. Her nipples would be hard and pressing against the material as she lay back on her bed, her legs spread. First she’d just lightly tease her fingers across the damp spot at the center of her shorts. Then she’d slip her fingers in the elastic waistband and slide them down her smooth legs. That’s when she’d take her vibrator out and move it down her soft, hot core, getting it nice and wet so she could slip it inside her slit.

Damn, the idea of it all had him harder than stone.

He shucked off his own boxers and gripped his hard cock, running his hand up and down the shaft, tight and fast. Going easy to make it a fantasy about her getting him off was the last thing he wanted right now. All he could think about was how hot it would be to watch Brooke make herself come undone. As his balls tightened, he tried to stay quiet, but her name slipped out anyway as he came on his stomach.

“Yes, I’m here,” Brooke said, the words sounding odd but not in a breathy, sexy way. “Hold on, I was just brushing my teeth. Let me run to the toilet to spit real quick.”

His hand stilled on his cock. Brushing her teeth? He was a moron. She wasn’t getting off; she was using an electric toothbrush. He wasn’t just an eavesdropping perv; he was an assuming eavesdropping perv.

A few seconds later, Brooke asked through the door, “What can I do for you?”

Now, that was a loaded question, considering all the things he could say to answer that—not that he’d tell her any of it. Lady Lemons was off-limits for obvious reasons that his mutinous body didn’t give a shit about. Still, he had to tell her something other than “I was just jerking off to you brushing your teeth.”

“I need to find some dog owners I can talk to about this dog collar invention I’m working on,” he said, the words coming out in a rush. “Any recommendations?”

“Oh, yes. I’m sure I can set up some introductions,” she said. “I’ll see you down at breakfast and will give you a list.”

“Great,” he managed to get out. “Thanks.”

He was officially an idiot. One who now was going to have to meet with God knew how many people about their pooches to cover up the fact that he couldn’t stop jerking off to the last woman in the world who should be turning him on. That was it. England had it out for him and the sooner he left, the better it would be for his sanity.

Chapter Eleven

Back from London and alone in the east wing, Charles watched from his bedroom window as the sun set, turning the sky soft shades of pink and orange. His right hand was trembling again. It was always the first sign. In fact, it’s what had forced him to go to his doctor in the first place. They’d thought it might be Parkinson’s and had done a brain scan. What they’d found was Alzheimer’s instead. It was still early, his doctor had reported a day ago, as if that meant anything other than that he had longer to watch the world fall away from him.

Angry? Oh, he was furious. Not that he’d let it show. The Vanes did not get emotional. That had been a lesson his parents had taught him even before he’d left the nursery.

Emotions, his father always said, were like a tea bag that had steeped too long, ruining what would otherwise be an excellent drink.

The estate’s Land Rover pulled into the driveway, drawing Charles’s attention. Nicholas and Ms. Chapman-Powell got out. They weren’t touching, but there was laughter, lingering looks, and an obvious intimacy about them—the kind that was troubling. William—no, not William. He curled his quaking hand into a fist. Nicholas. Nicholas should know better.

A quick tap on the door to his sitting room pulled his attention away from the window. Katie stood there with his evening tea and pills—the ones that helped him sleep through the night. There had been incidents lately where Katie had arrived in the morning to find him half dressed and asleep in another part of the house, which was why he’d declared the east wing off-limits to all but himself.

The last thing he wanted was a repeat of that, especially with William—no, he squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, not William, he corrected himself again—Nicholas at Dallinger Park. His grandson was home.

“And they’ve been like this all week?” he asked the housekeeper, his tone sharp to cover the fear of discovery and the whispers of uncertainty in his ears.

“What do you mean?” she asked, setting down the tray on the side table by his reading chair.

He gestured toward the window with his hand, frantically searching for the right word and not being able to come up with anything other than, “Together.”

Katie nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“I don’t like it.” William should know better after what had happened with that woman in America.

She made a tsk-tsk sound. “I’m sure Brooke is just trying to do as you asked.”