Hunting Beauty (Possessing Beauty 4)

“Let’s go.”

She nodded, her hand tightening in mine as I pulled her from the room, not giving a shit about everyone staring at us.

“And where might we be going?”

“Home.”

The helicopter pilot, Martin, was a friend of mine from the Royal Guard, and after I’d pulled his ass away from a grenade in Kabul? Well, let’s say he owed me this one. He nodded through the windshield as we stepped onto King Lucian’s helipad, the rotors already going.

“Damon!”

I turned, grinning at her as the wind whipped around us, her gown billowing in the air from the rotors as she shook her head and smiled at me.

“What are we doing?”

“Saving the kingdom, baby girl.”

“What?”

“Do you trust me?”

She smiled as she stepped into me, kissing me softly.

“Always.”

“Good, cause I’m going to need it when I tell your father that his wife is trying to take over the kingdom.”

Her jaw dropped

“I’ll explain on the ride. Oh, and Princess?”

I grinned as I pulled her close. “I’m also going to tell him I’m in love with his daughter, in case you’re curious.”

It took Martin blaring a warning fire on the helicopter’s foghorn to get us to finally pull apart. And after that, it was back to Berne, back to face the music, and back to tell my boss and my King that I wanted to marry his daughter.

Epilogue

Adele

“More.”

I gasp as his tongue drags up from between my legs, bumping over my clit and trailing up to my belly button.

“And now here I could’ve sworn you just told me to stop.”

I groan, yanking Damon down on top of me and kissing him fiercely.

“I think I told you to stop that because you were going to kill me if you kept going. But I want other things.”

He grins, leaning back in to kiss me hungrily. Hands stroke my skin, my legs move to wrap around his grooved hips, and I can feel the pulsing hardness of his cock throbbing against my pussy.

“I’m ready,” I whisper.

And I am. It is, after all, our wedding night.

We landed at the helipad back at my father’s castle to an armed guard welcoming party, guns drawn, dogs, lights, the works. You see, what people see and what people think they see are often two very different things. In this case, when an entire ballroom of my uncle’s court saw a much older, somewhat gruff looking man in an all black tuxedo swoop me up for a showstopper of a kiss and then run away with me, the worst was assumed.

And by “the worst,” I mean: everyone thought they’d just watched the princess of Berne get kidnapped.

Needless to say, things were a little bit tense as the helicopter rotors slowed to a stop back in Berne.

Luckily, most of the men at arms recognized my mystery abductor as one of their favorite Captains, rather than a rogue separatist. Tensions did get a little crazier before they lightened, but in the end, well, we managed to step off that helicopter without Damon getting shot.

Step one, check.

Step two was making our way directly to my father’s private office, where one of Damon’s most trusted men met us with a strongbox full of intelligence reports and classified wartime interviews.

“I need you to wait out here for this part,” Damon had said quietly.

I raised my brows. “You’re insane if you think I’m doing that.”

“I think I’ve already proven myself in the insane department.”

I gave him a look. “I’m coming in there with you. He’s my father.”

“And he’s my King, and yes, your father.” His jaw tightened. “I told you on the way here, there are two things I need to tell him. First, about Mallory, and second—”

“About me.”

He nodded, his eyes flashing fire as he pulled me close.

“This will be easier without you there, trust me.”

“I already told you, I do,” I said softly, kissing him.

“Captain Hunt?”

We turned to a nervous looking aide.

“His Highness will see you now.”

Damon cleared his throat as he turned towards the double doors.

“Here goes nothing,” he muttered, standing tall, and stepping inside.

The doors shut behind him with a sharp click.

There was yelling. Of course there was yelling, but slowly it died down, from what I can only assume was Damon opening the locked briefcase and showing my father the irrefutable and damning evidence about my stepmother secretly financing the separatists. Actually, it was quiet for a long time, and all I could hear was low, fierce talk, punctuated by the occasional fist against a table.

All in all, and even not actually being in the room, I think it’s fair to say my father took the news of his wife’s plot to overthrow his throne fairly well.

And then, after a short pause, all hell exploded. And I knew what that part was.

That was Damon telling my father that he was in love with me.

It went about as smooth as you can imagine.