The Royal and the Rebel (Royally Pitched 2)

Juliana smiled at him as he walked by her. Her full lips drew his gaze, and he both rued and relished the desire that ripped through him. Besides pain, it was the first real reaction his body had whipped up since his surgery. He started to look away when he saw her lips twitch—and not in a seductive manner. He drew up short and pivoted on his crutch, facing her. Her delicate fingers were wrapped around the knob, and the dogs waited patiently at their feet.

“It wasn’t funny,” he bit out with the petulance of a three-year-old.

She rolled her lips inward. Fascinated, he watched as laughter burst out of her mouth like a whale shooting out of the ocean, spraying water in a majestic plume. She clamped her hand over her mouth, but it didn’t help. Her shoulders shook, and her eyes watered. Leia barked beside her, all excited and high-pitched.

Rowan rolled his eyes and stomped his crutches on the floor, trying to express his displeasure by storming away. It was difficult enough to deal with his injury without embarrassing himself. He dropped onto the sofa, tossed his walking sticks aside, and leaned back with a tired sigh. Rowan rubbed his head. He grabbed the back of his neck and then tilted his head. It was muscle memory, but the moment he realized he was doing it, he thought of Violet imitating him, and it made him smile.

Quite suddenly, his temper dissipated. He looked around and realized he was alone. The dark scowl on his face must have chased Juliana and his dogs away. He closed his eyes, blocking out his frustration.

When he opened his eyes next, the room lacked light. It took Rowan time to understand he’d fallen asleep and lost most of yet another day. For one who had lived his life exploiting every minute, he struggled to reconcile this new life of inactivity and blank spaces. He rubbed his eyes and gave his head a quick shake, looking to dispense the last of his exhaustion.

“You’re awake,” came Juliana’s gentle tone she dialed in when she seemed to sense Rowan needed to be handled with kid gloves.

He was surprised she didn’t offer him biscuits and stickers like he was a child. He’d acted like it.

“Didn’t mean to fall asleep.” His voice was raspy.

“You did just have surgery.”

“You don’t have to be nice to me. I was an ass earlier.”

Her brow furrowed. “Bruh,” she said, patting him on the head, “you’re always an ass.”

He was stunned for a brief second before he laughed. As she went to step away, he grabbed her wrist. She looked down at him.

“What?” she asked.

“I’m sorry.” He dragged his thumb against the inside of her wrist. “I was embarrassed.”

She shrugged. “I understand. But you need to understand, that scene was a Tristan Caption That moment.”

Just the thought of dropping to his ass and getting hurdled by his dog made him burn with embarrassment.

“If only I’d had my phone,” she teased.

As if she willed it, a phone buzzed on the table. Rowan leaned forward and then let go of Juliana’s hand, so she could answer it. As she looked at it, her face lit up.

“Jamie,” she said. She got quiet as she listened. She shot Rowan a quick look and then left the room, presumably for privacy.

He tried to pretend it didn’t bother him. Leia whined from her spot on the carpet, and Rowan glared at her.

“Last time I checked,” he said to her as she cocked her head to listen to him, “you were my dog.”

She yipped and came over to him. Carefully avoiding his injured leg, she placed her head on his thigh and looked up at him. Smiling down at her, he scratched her head, all the while curious about Juliana’s phone call. He tried to eavesdrop, but she was too many rooms away and talking quietly. She returned moments later.

“Jamie said hello,” she announced as she scrolled furiously on her phone.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

Her focus remained on her phone. It was interesting. He was with younger guys all the time, men more suited to Juliana’s age and social profile. And while he liked to push her into the role of a frivolous rich girl, she never showed that side of herself to him. Here she was, hanging out with him post-op, without any complaints. He thought he understood her motivations for getting involved in this farce, but he was surprised they covered her dealing with him in less than an ideal situation like this.

The silence remained with Juliana focusing intently on whatever she was reading.

“Hey,” he said, wanting her attention.

She glanced up at him.

“What’s going on?”

She flicked her hand and then rolled her eyes. “An article about how much our family costs the country.”

“How much?” he asked, curious.

Scoffing, she said, “Less than the UK, but more than Lichtenstein.”

“Lichtenstein has a royal family?”

Juliana laughed. “Yes, but they don’t cost their citizens any money.”

“Is the figure untrue?”

“I have no idea.” She looked at him directly. “I’m aware you probably think I should know, but I don’t.”

He could hear the defensiveness in her voice. It wasn’t really like Juliana to be combative. She could dish it out in response, but she rarely came at you, guns blazing, without provocation. His first instinct was always to provoke, but he found he didn’t have the stomach for it today.

“It’s bad timing for that kind of article,” he remarked.

Juliana seemed taken aback by his statement. “Yeah,” she said quietly, “probably the worst timing. But the thing is, Jamie, Ele, and I don’t collect a salary.”

“You seriously don’t expect me to believe the crown prince doesn’t get paid.”

“You can and will believe whatever you want. We both know that, don’t we?” When he stared at her rather than answering what he took to be a rhetorical question, she continued, “Not that it’s your business, but our mother was an heiress. She and my father did live off money from the crown, which allowed her to funnel all of her money into a trust for us. And don’t forget, I started working at seventeen. The car in your driveway, I purchased it when I landed my first major modeling contract. So, these figures”—she held up her phone and shook it—“are probably true”—she shrugged—“but the only person living off of the money from the crown is the queen.”

Rowan studied her and realized her agitation wasn’t necessarily about the article. “And that bothers you.”

Juliana’s gaze went vacant. With a slight shake of her head, she said, “No. Just the timing.”

She was looking at him, but he could tell her mind was somewhere else.