Page 49 of The Royal's Pet: A MMF Ménage Royal Romance

Those dark eyes meet mine. “You know this won’t last. We don’t fit in with his royal life.”

It’s something I don’t want to think about, something I’ve been ignoring, but once he says it, I feel a swift reality check punch to the gut. We’re have our own slice of poly-paradise here in Italy, but once we go back to Buckingham Palace? What will it look like then?

“You don’t know that,” I say.

“Yes. I do. And I can live with that,” Ben continues. “I don’t need spotlight or fanfare. But Roland… his mother has him wrapped around her finger even now.”

“He came here. With us. Even though he knew she wouldn’t approve. That’s a start.”

“I’ve wanted this for a long time. Now that I have it… I’m terrified of losing it.”

Every muscle in Ben’s body is tensed. He’s in fight-or-flight mode. I set my hand on his thigh. I need to bring him back down to earth with me. “You will lose it if you keep yourself locked away. Do you remember what I said the first time we met?”

He looks at me blankly. “You told me muskrats were going to attack the palace.”

I laugh. “Yes. That. I also told you that your smile turned me on.”

There it is. That warm smile nudging the edges of his lips. It cracks his stiff demeanor and softens his edges. “How do you do that?” he asks. His tone is quieter now that the crisp panic has flown from it.

“Do what?”

“You’re so… open. Effortlessly.”

“I guess… ever since I was little, I realized life is too short to pretend. It’s better to die regretting the things you’ve done than the regretting all things you were too afraid to do. You have to take what you want while you can.”

“What do you want?”

The cigarette has stilled between his fingers. His strength has returned to him, and I feel it. He’s looming and the look in his eyes is the same look he gives me when he tells me to get on my knees. He’s in control, and it’s hot. My mouth waters with want, and I swallow before I speak.

“Honestly… I miss my family. But being with you two… for the first time since I left home, I feel like I’m part of something.”

“You are. You’re our beating heart.”

“If I’m the beating heart and you’re the overthinking brain, then Roland is…?”

“The stubborn prick?”

A chuckle vibrates from my chest. “Roland is… so out of his depth right now. This is the first time he’s left home in years. I remember how terrifying it was to take that first step. Believe me… it’s not easy. I think we should probably support him right now.”

“Agreed.”

Ben takes out his pack, tucks the unused cigarette back inside, and pockets it once more. He’s in steely control again. And—jeez. I love watching him like this. He walks with the confidence of an alpha, a pack leader, and I just want to feel his fist in my hair and his teeth in my skin. Is that so much to ask for?

I must be ogling, because Ben shoots me a strange look. “Are you coming?”

“Right. Yes.” I scramble to my feet and salute him. “Aye, aye. Right behind you, sir.”

“Sir. I could get used to that.”

I don’t know if it’s the way his smile slices across his mouth or his easy dominance that makes me so aroused, because I’m suddenly soaked. I let out a quick breath and bounce outside behind Ben.

When we step back outside, Roland is just where I left him—sprawled out on his chaise, one knee popped up lazily, the other bare foot hanging off the edge, and the nearly empty bottle beside him. He’s staring out at the sunset pensively, but he turns his head our way when the door hisses. The fading light bounces off his blond hair and halos his head. God. He’s positively ethereal.

“The rebels have returned. With no guillotine? I’m disappointed.”

“No guillotine.” I plop down on Roland’s chaise and squeeze in beside him.

Ben unfolds his long legs on the lounge chair. “You were right,” he says as he stares off at the tail end of the sunset.

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