Page 51 of Royal Creed

He touches his hand to my elbow as we continue down the stairs. “I’d like to think there are some things even the ‘Great and Powerful Oz’ isn’t able to find out,” he says, using the nickname he’s developed for the royal household.

I have to admit, it’s growing on me. I’ve always simply called it the ‘establishment’ or the ‘powers that be’. The Great and Powerful Oz has a nice tongue-in-cheek ring to it. And is a much more accurate metaphor for the royal household. It’s this mysterious entity everyone’s so curious about. Has this connotation of being so powerful, so all-knowing.

In reality, it’s a bitter old man who wants to control the inhabitants of Oz. Or, in our case, several bitter old men who want to control the members of the royal family.

“Then you don’t know my friends very well. Put them in a room with the right person and they’ll come out with not only the location of Jimmy Hoffa’s body, but also who killed Kennedy. Oh, and what happened to Amelia Earhart.”

He throws his head back and laughs, the raspy sound echoing against the high ceilings. “They do seem like quite the…persuasive group. And also good people.” He pauses just outside of the living room, placing his hands on my biceps and forcing me to face him. “They care about you.” A contemplative expression pulls on his brows. “I’ve never had friends like that. People who let me be myself and not give a shit about whom I am. Who my father is.”

When I spy a motion out of the corner of my eye, I look away, gaze briefly meeting Creed’s as he passes us, scowling at Jameson.

But if it bothers Jameson, he doesn’t let on.

“And friends who seem quite protective of you,” he states once Creed’s out of earshot.

I part my lips, about to apologize for Creed’s behavior. Insist he’s like this around everyone he doesn’t know well.

But before I can offer a lackluster excuse, Jameson places a finger over my mouth, silencing me.

“I’m glad you have people looking out for you, especially with, well…all of this. I’m more than happy to be on the receiving end of a few glowers and the occasional death stare from a frightening man who could probably kill me with his bare hands if it means he’s looking out for you.”

I swallow hard, tightness squeezing my chest.

Any guilt that plagued me about my previous indiscretions with Creed is amplified ten-fold now. Especially with Jameson mistaking Creed’s cold attitude as him simply being a protective friend.

“Believe me when I say there aren’t enough people like that. Maybe if I had…” He stops short, pinching his eyes shut.

“Maybe if you had…what?” I lean closer, my curiosity piqued once more.

Jameson draws in a deep breath, but there’s no mistaking the pain and remorse covering the lines of his face. It’s a complete change from the lighthearted man he was moments ago.

Memories of our conversation after I ran out of that first meeting rush back. How I’d questioned why he’d settle for someone he didn’t love. I didn’t read too much into his response. But now it haunts me.

I’m not holding out for another strike of lightning.

It makes me wonder about his first strike of lightning.

By his distraught expression, I sense it’s not a simple breakup that pulled them apart, but something much more tragic.

“Nothing that matters anymore.” He sighs, masking his grief with a forced smile. “Come on. Let’s get back to your friends. Enjoy the freedom while we still have it.”

“Of course.”

He links his hand with mine, and we make our way through the living room and onto the patio, the sunlight causing the crystal blue water of the luxurious pool to glitter. I maintain my bright expression, not wanting anyone to read into the fact that I was gone for a while.

And that Creed rejoined the party only minutes before I did.

I doubt anyone’s in the right frame of mind to put those two pieces together, not with all the alcohol that’s been flowing since we boarded the private jet earlier this morning.

Then why do I feel like my misdeeds are written all over me?

Worse, why do I feel more guilty about the fact I’m holding Jameson’s hand than I do about any of my acts of infidelity with Creed?

Chapter Twenty

Esme

The bright moon casts a subtle glow across my darkened bedroom as I lay awake. The music of the nearby ocean waves normally lulls me to sleep whenever I’m here.

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