Page 67 of The Royal's Pet: A MMF Ménage Royal Romance

But now his touch stings, and I shrug out of it. “I don’t understand,” I say lamely. My heart feels like it’s fallen straight into my gut and is boiling in my stomach acid.

“The time I’ve spent with you… well. It’s the happiest I’ve ever been.” There’s a tremor in his voice as he speaks. “You’ve shown me just how big this world can be. You’re the most courageous woman I know. I love you, Rory—”

“Why?” The breath has gone out of my lungs again. I feel useless and limp when I look at him.

To his credit, he doesn’t look away from me. He doesn’t dance around the subject or try to pump me full of more sugar-sweet nothings. “I can’t imagine a world without you in it,” he tells me. “Life with me… it’s dangerous. And I can’t put your life on the line like that.”

“Every day is dangerous.” I throw up my hand. “Crossing the street is dangerous.”

“This isn’t crossing the street!” His eyes go vibrant when he loses his temper, and I close my mouth. The lion roars and you shut up. He seems to remember himself and rakes his fingers through his mane quickly, soothing the beast. “You were stabbed. That’s not a risk I can take.”

I know I should back down in the face of his anger, but his frustration only piques mine. “Life is about taking chances,” I argue. “Scary chances. If Ben hadn’t taken a chance, he’d still be a dock boy in Limehouse. If I hadn’t taken a chance and left the States, I’d have never met you. Taking that risk—that plunge of faith—that’s what makes life so amazing.”

“Maybe for Normals.” The temperature of his voice has dropped to something low and cold. I’ll take his temper any day over this quiet resignation. “Not for me. I take chances, people die.”

“No one died.”

“Not this time.” He looks at me, and those blue eyes are full of pain. It breaks my heart clean in half. “What about the next time?”

I wind my fingers through his and squeeze. “We’ll figure it out.”

“I already have.” Roland untangles our fingers and retracts his hand. He leaves my bed and gets to his feet. “You need to leave London. There’s no telling how many people are out there like the man we ran into tonight. I’ll make sure you’re cleared to use my private jet. They’ll take you wherever you want. Back to Michigan. Anywhere.”

Roland presses a small, lingering kiss to my forehead. I feel my hair move when he sighs against me. “Take care of yourself, Rory,” he murmurs.

With that, he makes to leave. He twists his signet ring on his finger as he walks to the door. My throat tightens and my heart hammers in my chest. I feel paralyzed. “Roland,” I finally get out. He stops at the last second and turns to face me. My lower lip feels swollen and trembles. “Please. Don’t do this.”

I swear, his eyes go glassy for a second. But then he blinks, and the hardened mask falls over his face once more. “I’m sorry,” he says.

With that, Prince Roland walks out of the hospital room and out of my life.

36

Ben

The second hand ticks by on the wall clock. The queen and I wait in silence outside as Roland visits with Rory.

Queen Selena doesn’t deign to sit. Instead, she stands and waits, arms folded. Her dress hugs to her like rubber, and I wonder if it would even allow her to sit and stand back up.

“A dead man was found in the River Thames today,” she says, abruptly breaking the agreed-upon silence between us. “Would you know anything about that?”

“No, ma’am,” I lie. Dripping wet. Holding my broken rib.

“Hm,” she huffs. And that’s the extent of our conversation.

I’m staring at the door. I’m trying hard not to overanalyze this situation, but it doesn’t escape my notice. Barely a couple hours back in England, and Roland and Rory are an item and I’m… left holding the door. I try reasoning with myself. I knew my place. I knew this was how it would be. I knew we would revert back to our old ways once we got here. What’s the saying?

Two’s a company; three’s a crowd.

Still. It kills me to have either of them out of my sight, even for a moment.

Three hundred seconds tick by before the hospital door opens again. I stand quickly, even though the effort sends bursts of pain through my chest. The queen stiffens her spine.

Roland looks weary. I see it in his eyes. White-hot panic bubbles in my blood. But then he gives the two of us one of his charming smiles. “She’s doing okay,” he says. “Knackered. They’ve got her on painkillers. But she’s fine.”

“Thank God,” I sigh with relief before I can stop myself. The queen shoots me a queer look from the edge of her vision.

Roland waves her away. “Mother, give us a moment, please.”

---