The Bossy Prince - Rugged and Royal

“Yes,” Beatrice says, smiling the secret smile of a blissful bride-to-be. “He’s my fiancé. Do you know him?”

“I do. Love the man. An absolute blast to party with,” I say, as doom stops impending and plummets like a grand piano falling three stories to the sidewalk where I’m standing.

Beatrice isn’t just dating a bad guy.

She’s engaged to marry the biggest and baddest guy of them all.

Fuck, fuck, and fuck it all again.

Chapter Thirteen

Alexandra

Everything is shit.

Absolute shit.

Back in our room, I pace in front of the bed while Nick grabs a shower, and I do my best not to think of my sweet, innocent cousin rolling around in a similar bed with a murdering, human-trafficking, drug-smuggling sleazebag.

Beatrice has no idea she’s in danger, but I do, and my imagination is working overtime.

I want to call Sabrina and demand she tell me how to convince Beatrice to dump Stefano and go home. Right now. Do not wait until morning, do not spend another second with a man who has a history of “misplacing” girlfriends permanently.

But I can’t.

Can I?

“I should call Sabrina,” I say, trying out the words as Nick emerges from the bathroom in a cloud of steam. I’m so upset not even the sight of him in a pair of snug black pants and no shirt can pull me from my panic spiral. “They were always close, and Sabrina is good with people. She’ll know how to get through to her. And while I’m at it, I can confess I’m here with you before Bea spills the beans. That way, we set the tone and control the message.”

“Too late.” Nick reaches into his back pocket, swiping at the screen on his cell before tossing it my way.

I catch the phone, glancing down as Nick opens the wardrobe against the wall, cursing beneath my breath as I skim the group text from his brothers.

Jeffrey: What the hell are you doing? You couldn’t have found someone else—anyone else—to keep your bed warm over the holiday?

Andrew: I doubt he needs his bed warmed in Bali. He’s probably sleeping naked, making it that much easier for Zan to murder him in his sleep. A pair of cozy winter pajamas offers at least some protection. Naked, he’s a sitting duck.

Jeffrey: Good point. She doesn’t like you, Nick. She might be distracted by sex right now, but sooner or later, the endorphin rush will wear off, and she’ll remember she hates your guts.

Andrew: And then she’ll break your heart. Or your face. Maybe both.

Jeffrey: I doubt his heart is involved. You know how he is. A different woman every month. Which is why this is so stupid, Nick. If there was a future for you and Zan, that would be one thing.

Andrew: Right. I mean, it would still be bonkers—the two of you have nothing in common aside from the fact that her sisters are married to your brothers. But at least it would be worth the family drama. Not to mention the scandal. The press is going to have a field day. Jeffrey and I marrying identical twins is bad enough. You having a holiday sex-fest with their triplet sister is completely over the top. We’ll never hear the end of it.

Jeffrey: Exactly. And if it were anything other than a sex-fest, you wouldn’t have lied and said you were going alone. So, as I see it, there’s only one course of action.

Andrew: Right. Get Zan on a plane back here ASAP, and we’ll do our best to minimize the damage. Sabrina will convince Bea to keep her mouth shut about what she saw, and I’ll set Zan up with one of my driven, successful, no-nonsense friends. By New Year’s Eve, she’ll be falling for a guy who’s actually her type, and this whole thing will have been forgotten.

Jeffrey: And until it is, you’ll stay away from her. It’s the least you can do. Lizzy says Zan hasn’t dated at all since her divorce. We haven’t told Lizzy, by the way. She has enough on her plate without worrying about this nonsense.

Andrew: Exactly. Lizzy is vulnerable. And so is Zan. She’s the walking wounded, Nickolas, on the rebound in a major way.

Jeffrey: Absolutely. She’s not thinking clearly.

Andrew: And do you really want to take advantage of your sister-in-law? Especially considering her history of attempting to kill you when all you’d done is exist too close to her while she was in the mood to drown people? Imagine what she’ll do to you if she has a justifiable cause?

Jeffrey: They were children, Andrew. Don’t be dramatic.

Andrew: I will be dramatic if I want to be dramatic! My baby brothers’ dicks are entirely out of line. You couldn’t keep a condom on yours long enough to marry Lizzy before you knocked her up, and now Nick’s has convinced him to lie to his nearest and dearest and make family get-togethers awkward for the rest of our lives! We’ll be in our fifties, sitting in the hot tub on holiday, secretly wondering if Zan’s husband and Nick’s wife know that the two of them fucked thirty years ago. It will drive me mad, the not knowing! I won’t be able to enjoy a single second of the trip.