The Royal and the Rebel (Royally Pitched 2)

23

4 March

Xavier Hall

Juliana slid into her dress. The silk drifted down her body in a cool rush, and she shifted it into place with her hands.

The deep red color should be my signature, she thought as she looked at her reflection.

It complemented her skin tone and somehow brought out the hues in her green eyes. The high halter circled her neck, leaving her shoulders bare. It fell to the floor in a cascade of luxurious material. She slid her feet into her sky-high heels and a familiar disassociation settled around her. Suddenly, she was Princess Juliana. A beautiful rather untouchable version of her true self. She remembered the feeling from her days and nights on the runway and in front of someone’s camera. It was her but a glamorized version. She pictured herself in casual jeans and funny T-shirts with comfortable sneakers or kick-ass boots.

Gathering her small clutch, she stepped out of her suite. She’d left Rowan on the heels of his mother’s departure yesterday, not ready to be alone with him. After a day apart and a workout with Noah, she was more centered. With her confidence buoyed by her dress and endorphins pumping from her session, she fought against her embarrassment over what had transpired between them the night of the ball. She had no reason to be self-conscious. The touches and exchanges of orgasms had been mutually beneficial. Tonight would be challenging enough without their escapades from the night before between them. So, in line with her dress, she put on an air she was all too familiar with—glitzy party girl. Because that incarnation of Princess Juliana could handle any type of sexual innuendo and manage the undercurrents.

Reaching Rowan’s door, she knocked briskly. The door swung open immediately, like Rowan might have been looking through the peephole, waiting for her.

The stupid pause she was getting accustomed to happened again. The zeroing in on Rowan, the trip in her heartbeat. And this time, she didn’t even really look him over as a whole. It was just as their gazes caught. His eyes completed a head-to-toe perusal before he moved out into the hall without even a hello. It was a proverbial slap, pulling her out of the Rowan-focused haze she experienced when she saw him.

It was silly, but she thought she might have her first crush. And wasn’t it the perfect term for it? Like a cartoon she could see, towering, imposing Rowan holding her heart in his hands and drop-kicking it or maybe crushing it under the cushioned peg of his crutch. Not that her heart was truly engaged. Most likely not engaged.

But her body, well, wasn’t that a different story? She hadn’t held on to her virginity for any special reason or virtue. Merely the opportunity to be done with it had never presented itself. Still, she’d never been ashamed or even interested in changing this particular fact about herself. She figured there would come a time when she would be in a position—literally—to have sex. When it did, she knew there would be no hesitation. For instance, if Rowan had suggested they take their play further last night, she would have agreed. Maybe? Because when she’d stood above him, with his fingers embedded inside her, she’d been aware of how easy it would be for her to fall for him. As it dawned on her, she wanted to run to it with abandon and to haul ass away from it, as if the hounds of hell were chasing her.

Tonight, they were attending an intimate dinner with her siblings and Violet. It was a pop quiz, and she knew she needed to perform well. As they walked the path to the elevator, she wished there were a way to touch Rowan. She couldn’t hold on to the aluminum stick helping him walk, but she wanted to be able to lace her hand through his arm and look like they were a united front. And to have an excuse to touch him.

The doors slid open, and Rowan waited for her to go first. The silence between them was heavy, and Juliana was breathless beneath it. She knew they couldn’t walk into this trap like two individuals without setting off all sorts of alarms.

Once the elevator began its ascent, Juliana reached over and pushed the emergency stop button. The car halted immediately, catching Rowan off guard. Both of them bounced a little, and it was enough to buck Rowan’s balance. He reached out, grabbing at the first thing available, which happened to be Juliana’s bare shoulder. She stuttered under his heavy hand, her ankles wobbling. Her clutch fell as she reached behind her for the wall to steady them both. His crutch dropped, catching the stainless steel door and clattering to the floor. All around them, sound reverberated. Instinct must have kicked in because Rowan dropped his other crutch and wrapped Juliana up before he reached forward with his hand, palming the wall above her head. When everything was quiet and settled, it looked like they’d engaged in a vertical game of Twister.

“What the fuck?!” Rowan exclaimed, his words harsh in her ear.

Juliana’s eyes were wide as she caught her breath. Rowan was perched on his good leg, one arm around her waist, one arm over her. She was completely surrounded.

“Sorry,” she said, staring at his chest, her nose virtually shoved up into his neck. “I definitely didn’t think that through.”

“What the hell else is new? When do you ever think anything through?”

Even as she acknowledged she deserved his anger, she bristled with irritation and embarrassment.

“Are you okay?” he snapped at her.

She rolled her eyes and slunk back away from him. Ducking, she scooped up his crutches. She shucked one under his right arm and pushed the other into his waiting left hand.

“Hold on,” she said as she pushed the stop button back into place.

Then, she side-stepped him and shimmied to the other side of the elevator.

But nothing happened.

The elevator didn’t move.

Rowan turned himself around to glare at her. He shook his head before facing the control panel. He fiddled with the button. Pulled it out, pushed it in. Jiggled it. Stabbed at it repeatedly. Juliana leaned against the opposite wall and rubbed her forehead. Her armpits got damp as she thought about them being stuck in the elevator because of her brilliant idea to talk to Rowan before dinner. They were an ever-expanding clusterfuck.

“Bloody fucking hell!” he whisper-shouted. With frustration, he thrust his crutches away and eased himself to the floor.

Mortification heated Juliana’s skin. She could not get anything right with this man. Crouching down, she fished her clutch from the floor.

She stood as she opened it and grabbed her cell phone.

“No service,” they said at the same time.