The Royal and the Rebel (Royally Pitched 2)

Juliana’s smile was wide. She could feel the pull of her lips and the strain of her cheeks. After everything that had happened today, she was shocked she could be so happy. She wanted to jump and skip and scream her joy. She was known for her impulsiveness. No one knew how much of her spontaneity was actually planned and monitored for maximum effect. But she hadn’t had time to come up with an escape hatch for Ele today. She’d had to improvise. And nothing had gone the way she had thought.

The dainty kiss she’d intended to bestow on Rowan’s cool lips had morphed into an epic, showstopping lip-lock. Even now, hours later, she felt branded by it.

But perhaps she should have selected a different participant. Rowan’s anger was an unforgiving blast of heat, what she imagined a blistering day in the desert would feel like.

She hadn’t meant to fall into the kiss. Vaguely, she remembered a nip on her bottom lip, and when her mouth had opened, he had taken over. And while the kiss scorched, his abrupt halt to it hurt in a different kind of way. It was a Taser to her body. The bolt of electricity, the ripple of voltage through the muscles and tendons, the brusque seizure of limbs, and then the helpless collapse. When he’d put distance between them, she’d been wildly out of control. If her personal protection officer, Noah, hadn’t been there to pull her out of the fray, she wasn’t sure what would have happened. All the careful illusions she’d spun would have shattered to the clicks of camera flashes.

The aftermath of her actions was harsher than those of the past. It was no secret the queen had a soft spot for Juliana. She’d had to endure the occasional slap on the wrist for her “antics.” The humiliation of having to rewatch the scene unfold as Robert, Noah, and Millie had looked on stung. But she knew she could endure it because Ele, her panic-stricken big sister, had seen Jules. Ele knew that Juliana’s kiss had been staged to save her. In the beginning, Juliana hadn’t thought she wanted anything other than to help her sister. But the moment Ele had acknowledged Juliana’s actions, Jules’s heart had expanded like the Grinch. She wouldn’t be able to explain it to anyone, but being seen had made her feel loved in a way she hadn’t experienced since her parents had died.

So, Rowan Beckwith’s anger and grouchiness couldn’t touch her right now.

She suddenly remembered she was standing in Rowan’s hotel room. “I really am sorry for using your mouth for my own purposes today, but I can’t be sorry about the results.” Her face flamed when she realized what she’d said. “I mean, I apologize for the kiss.” She shook her head, trying to hold back nervous laughter but a chuckle escaped anyway. She had a terrible habit of laughing when she was embarrassed or uncomfortable.

Rowan’s eyes narrowed. “Are you pissed?” he asked, incredulous.

For a moment, she had thought they’d come to a truce. But now, she could see his anger ramping up again. She wanted to assuage it, but use your mouth kept running through her head. Her face felt like it was on fire, and she had a terrible case of the giggles, which she was desperately trying to nip.

She waved her hand and shook her head. “No. I haven’t had a drink all day. Although perhaps this would have gone smoother if I had.”

“I don’t have time for this bullshit,” Rowan said. “I have a girlfriend!” he spat.

Finally, the laughter died. She fiddled with her ponytail in a nervous flutter. “I didn’t know that. No one knows that.”

How had Rowan been able to keep that little fact out of the media? The footballers’ social lives sold as many papers as the royals. Briefly, she wondered if knowing that earlier would have made a difference or if she would have chosen him, no matter what.

“Because it’s my personal business,” he practically roared. “You had no right to put me in that position. I know you think you can do whatever you want because of who you are, but you can’t. Just because you’re a princess doesn’t mean I am your loyal subject to do with what you want.”

Juliana backed away from him, horrified by his words. “It didn’t have anything to do with me being a princess. It had everything to do with me being a sister.”

Rowan closed the distance between them. “If it wasn’t about who you are, you wouldn’t have chosen such a public forum for your little show. You wouldn’t have picked me to cause your spectacle.”

He was six inches away from her. Closer to her than he’d been since she’d entered the room. She could feel his presence; it tripped through her like a current. His eyes were flashing, and he radiated with anger. It was a wall of negative energy. For the first time since the kiss, the shame, embarrassment, and regret didn’t matter to her. He had a right to his indignation, but she’d apologized, and now, he was just being a toad.

She stepped forward into his space and tilted her head up. Their eyes locked.

“I said I was sorry. And I meant it. I don’t say things I don’t mean. But you don’t get to make assumptions about me or my motivations. If I could do it over, you can bet I would have kissed any other bloke on your team. Anyone who wasn’t you!”

They stood there for a moment, both of them breathing heavily, their mad reflected back at each other.

“Whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep at night,” he said. Then, he turned around, marched to the door, and flung it open. “Thanks for dropping by, but I think it’s time for you to go.”

He was a complete asshole. She strutted to the door like she was on the catwalk with the hottest designer’s clothes draped across her body.

She stopped when she got to the threshold and turned to face him. “You know, I am sorry about your girlfriend. Sorry she feels like you’re the best she can do.”

When he slammed the door behind her, she couldn’t help her grin.