Royal Pains Read online

  It was like there was a hook attached to my core, pulling it upwards and into my stomach. That feeling colliding with the butterfly show in my stomach had me weak in the knees and my mind foggy.

  "W-would—" I paused to swallow so my dry mouth could moisten itself, then continued, "Would you excuse me? I need to use the bathroom." I rushed out, trying to find an excuse to leave the room and clear my mind.

  "Absolutely, Miss Lefevre," he said, taking a step back.

  I forced a smile and then turned to take a step, only to have my legs buckle under me and send me falling to the floor.

  "Are you all right?" Theodore asked, kneeling beside me and taking my face between his large hands.

  It took me a minute to respond as my mind began swirling from the feel of his impossibly soft hands. Soft hands on a man was never a good thing. It meant one thing in my mind, that they had never seen hard labor in their life—but I couldn't deny how wonderful they felt just now on my face. It had me wondering what it would feel like if those hands touched me in other places.

  "I'm fine. Thank you," I whispered, avoiding his eyes from embarrassment.

  Theodore grasped me under my arms and lifted me to my feet. "It might help if your heels weren't a foot tall," he teased as he released me.

  "They aren't a foot tall," I responded, leaning against the couch so I could kick them off. The second my arches relaxed against the floor, I let out a sigh of relief.

  "Better?" he asked.

  I nodded, avoiding his gaze as I stooped down to pick up my shoes. "I'll just be right back."

  I headed to the bedroom and placed my shoes in the closet before going to the bathroom, where I splashed cold water on my face and arms to cool off.

  If only my mother could see me now, all hot and bothered by a random stranger I met just hours ago, she'd rip out her hair.

  A knock on my bedroom door drew my attention and I quickly dried off my arms and face, making myself presentable before I moved from the bathroom.

  "Yes?" I asked as Theodore took a step into the bedroom.

  "I was hoping to use your facilities." The corner of his mouth turned up in its usual smug look. "The brandy cuts right through me."

  I turned on the bathroom light and stepped aside as he entered. Once the door closed, I moved to sit on the bed. What was I supposed to do now? Was I really wanting to lose my virginity to a random stranger, or would I ask him to leave?

  By the time the bathroom door opened a minute or two later, I had made it up in my mind that I was going to thank him for bringing me home and then tell him it was time for him to leave.

  Theodore stepped back into the room, adjusting his cuff links in a casual manner. He smiled as I walked toward him to show him out.

  "I had a really nice time," I said as we stopped at the elevator.

  "I'd like to see you again, Emmaline."

  Biting my lip, I looked up at him. His firm gaze caused my face to grow warm again. Releasing a breath, I lowered my eyes and fixated on his mouth.

  That mouth.

  Even if we weren't going to sleep together, I still wondered... still wanted to at least know what those lips would feel like on mine.

  I took a chance and leaned in, pressing my lips to his. I felt him tense beneath the touch of my mouth for a brief second before he stepped back, his eyes wide.

  "Was that bad?" I asked, my eyes searching his face for some understanding.

  "Do you always kiss men you have just met?" he asked in a severe tone.

  I felt my face blush. "That is none of your business."

  "I beg to differ," he retorted, his voice harsh. "I will not condone this whorish behavior."

  "I'm not a whore!" I shrieked.

  "Yet your behavior contradicts that."

  I brought my hand down across his face, filling the room with a loud smack. "You judgmental son of a bitch. You know what, it's time for you to get the hell out of my home." I pressed the button for the elevator, causing the doors to slide open.

  In a split second, he had me pushed up against the wall. His face inches from mine, I could smell the liquor on his breath and it made my stomach want to turn. It was no secret that this man was angry, and part of me was afraid.

  "In Linacre, if a woman treated a man like you have treated me, you would be whipped."

  I glared at him, hatred boiling in my veins. "Last time I checked, we weren't in Linacre. So take your hands off of me and get out of my house before I call the police," I threatened, my voice wavering slightly.

  Without hesitation, he took a step back, his eyes never leaving my face. Then he turned away and silently left. I didn't move from my spot until the elevator had begun its descent down to the lobby.

  "What a jerk," I muttered, heading into the bathroom to wash away the night.

  I was in shock at what had just happened. But as I finished my shower and put on my pajamas, I reminded myself that he was from a different country and I would probably never see him again.

  I was curled up on the couch with my hair wrapped up in a towel, listening to Lana Del Rey and drinking my third glass of red wine when Bash finally returned. He froze when he saw me sitting in the dark.

  "Night end bad?" He asked and sat beside me.

  "What gave it away?" I lightly slurred before taking a sip from my wine.

  "Did you guys—" I shook my head before he could finish his sentence.

  "Nope." I took a deep breath. "But I did kiss him."

  "Did he have a small penis?" Bash chuckled.

  I laughed. "Really, Bash?"

  Sebastian held his hands up in front of his chest, palms facing out. "Hey, it doesn't matter which team you bat for—a small penis is a deal-breaker."

  I rolled my eyes. "It never got that far. I kissed him as I was showing him out and he called me a whore."

  "No!" He gasped in disbelief.

  "Yes. He was a complete asshole."

  I went into detail, telling him everything that had happened since the moment I sat down at Theodore's table. When I finished, Bash was appalled.

  "I'm just glad he didn't turn out to be one of those psychotic ax murderers," he said.

  "I'm just relieved I'll never have to see him again."

  "He's from Linacre?" Bash asked.

  I nodded and took another sip. "That's where I was born and where my parents are from. It's no longer a mystery as to why they left."

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The next morning, I rambled lazily into the kitchen, my hair lying in a chaotic heap of a bun on top of my head. After grabbing some of my favorite spiced apple-cider tea that Bash had been kind enough to brew for me, I slumped into one of the two rattan hanging chairs that sat outside on our balcony overlooking the Puget Sound.

  "Morning, Em." Bash took a seat beside me with a book in his hands.

  "G'mornin'," I replied with a yawn before taking a sip of my tea.

  "You're welcome, by the way," He teased, his eyes not moving from the book that seemingly occupied the majority of his attention.

  "Yeah, what are you reading?" I asked, taking another sip.

  He tilted the book towards me without saying a word. It read Domestic Geographic - Linacre.

  "Sebastian, what on earth are you up to?" I snatched the book from his hands and read the page he was on.

  “Many of the country’s customs derive from earlier ages in time. The way they dress, the way they socialize, and even their common laws.”

  Bash took back his book and folded the corner of the page before closing it and setting it on the wicker table beside him.

  "I'm actually up to nothing, for once." He grinned. "I was just curious about something you mentioned last night during your drunken rant about that Fallmonte beauty and decided to do a little research."

  I rolled my eyes. "What did I say last night?" I remembered quite a bit, up until that last glass... Everything after that, I was unable to recall. I didn't even remember how I got to bed last night.

  "You
mentioned you were born there and then went on a fifteen-minute spiel explaining that your sister had told you how glad she was they’d left because it was awful." He crossed his legs. "I didn't even know you had a sister before last night. Why haven’t you ever mentioned her?"

  I took a sip of my tea, taking the time to let the apple and spices tantalize my taste-buds before I swallowed.

  "Why is it such a shock I haven't mentioned her? I don't ever talk about my family unless it is to bitch about them, in which case I should only have ever brought up my mother because she is a life-sucking bitch from which there is no escape."

  Bash hissed before cracking a grin. "Yeah... I guess you’re right." He paused for a moment and then continued. "So about this sister..."

  "Oy vey." I groaned, shaking my head at him.

  "Wait, let me guess—you’re Jewish, too. We could totally be related," he teased.

  "Sorry to burst your bubble, but you are no relative of mine. I'm sadly one-hundred-percent Linacrean."

  "Boo!" He made a raspberry sound with his mouth and gave me a thumbs-down.

  "You're telling me. Anyway, where did you find that book?"

  Bash pulled the book back onto his lap and flipped it over to show the store's sticker. "International Studies section at Heavenly Bindings." He tapped the book. "It's actually very intriguing, to say the least, what kind of stores surround us in a five-block radius. Did you know we have a shawarma joint six buildings over? Cause I had no friggin clue."

  "Bash, why would you want to buy shawarma made by complete strangers when you could just go to your parents’ house and have your mother cook it for free?"

  Bash's eyes narrowed. "And wound what little pride I have left? How could you ask me to do such a thing?"

  I took the book from his hands and smacked him over the head. "Like anything can burst your ego, it's so huge."

  "That's what she said," he laughed. "Seriously though, why won't you tell me about your sister?"

  I shrugged my shoulders as I fingered through the pages of the book. "What do you want to know?"

  "I dunno, what's her name? Is she older or younger? Where does she live? What does she look like?" Bash rushed out.

  "Well…" I took a sip of my tea before I continued, "her name is Camille and she is older by eight years. She currently lives in this fancy mansion on Whidbey Island with her big-shot husband Chandler and their two kids."

  "Ahh, go no further, I see why you don't mention her. She's just like your mother, isn't she? Cold and calculated."

  That would be a logical explanation for to why I never talked about her, but it wasn't true. My sister and I had been so alike and so close, until she’d got married. Then she’d just changed. She was still herself, but somehow she was so different—like she had a split personality.

  One moment she was acting perfectly normal, and then it was like a switch had flipped and she began channeling my mother.

  "Actually, she isn't. She's like me, only she didn't turn away fast enough and now she is stuck in the same hurricane of misery I am doing everything to avoid."

  "I'm not sure I’m catching on," Bash said, his voice lacking its usual humorous tone. He was in his serious mode—the one he would go to when I needed more than a laugh to perk me up.

  That was one of my favorite things about Sebastian, and why he was my best friend. He knew... he somehow always knew when I needed him and what for, whether it be a laugh, a shoulder to cry on or someone to talk to.

  He never failed me.

  I turned my head and rose to my feet, moving closer towards the railing of our balcony so I could discreetly wipe away the tears that were beginning to fall. It took so much strength to hold back the sobs that wanted to accompany them. In the end, I just held my breath until I couldn't anymore.

  "Emma, hun…" Bash was at my side pulling me into his arms. "Talk to me. I'm here and I will listen." He released me and brushed away a rogue tear with his thumb.

  "My sister, she never wanted the life she has. She was forced into it." I took a breath to try and settle my trembling voice. "She was just like me, but this life..." I shook my head. "It ruined her. It ruins you—the way they expect us to live."

  "And you’re afraid?"

  I nodded. "My mother is never going to let me go, so I figure it's only a matter of time before I end up just like my sister, the real me locked away so deep I start losing track of who I am until I eventually just forget all together."

  I moved back to my seat and stared at the scene before me. It was a beautiful day, the sounds of cars and people scattered through the air and the smell of the harbor wafting in with the call of a foghorn from the ferry leaving for Bainbridge Island.

  I liked my life as it was right now—waking up in the morning and drinking spiced apple-cider tea on the balcony with my best friend. Those simple things were worth more to me than all the riches I could imagine.

  I just wanted to live a happy life, and no amount of money could buy that—only a temporary euphoric state.

  It was thirty minutes before noon when I left the house to go to my first appointment. Today was what most people would call a full-body pamper day. Me, I saw it as a real-estate agent sprucing up a furnished house—my mother was the agent, I was the house and wealthy bachelors were the clients.

  By the time I arrived at Dr. Logan's for my teeth cleaning and whitening, his assistant had just stepped into the waiting room to call me.

  Dr. Logan specialized in cleaning and whitening for the wealthy society. All my mother’s acquaintances flocked to him, so appointments had to be booked nearly three months in advance.

  His dental assistant had just fitted my mouth with a piece of hardened plastic that kept my mouth wide open when Dr. Logan entered the room.

  "That time of the year, again?" he asked, pulling on his gloves.

  I let out a piqued sigh and responded in a garbled sentence. He smiled and laughed—what all dentists did when they couldn't understand you—as he took his seat on his stool and stepped on the pedal that raised my chair.

  "How is your mother doing?" he asked as he began scraping at my teeth with his metal tool.

  Anyone that knew me already knew the mom subject was off-limits. Talking about her was the quickest way to anger me.

  I closed my eyes and ignored him. It was Friday, the only day I didn't have classes. I just had to get through the rest of the day and tomorrow's dinner with the socialites and then I wouldn't have to think about any of that stuff for another three weeks.

  I forced myself to think about the upcoming photoshoot, imagining what it would be like working underwater.

  Of course, I had done an underwater shoot before, but it had only been a simulation done in Ludivine's climate-controlled room, which had a retractable floor and an eight-foot pool for underwater training.

  I was terrified that this was our first big-shot client. If we screwed this up we wouldn’t get a simple bad grade that we could make up with extra credit or a do-over, we would get a bad review that could crush our company in days.

  By the time Dr. Logan was finished it was a quarter till two. When I arrived at Chang's Beauty Spa she took me straight to the back to begin my full body wax. It was an uncomfortable procedure, but with my ear buds in and my music turned up it was over in no time—with little to no tears.

  Leigh Chang escorted me from the back room where I had been waxed to the main room where the manis and pedis were done.

  "Hey beautiful! Saved you a seat!" I heard Bash call from across the room. He patted the recliner next to his and I joined him.

  "What are you doing here?" I asked as I stuck my feet in the warm soapy water.

  "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm hanging out with my best friend—or is it not obvious?" he asked sarcastically. "Plus, this just gives me a reason to get an eyebrow wax and a pedicure without people thinking I’m gay."

  "But, you are gay..."

  Bash's eyes widened. "What!" he gasped, clenching his hand
into a fist and bringing it to his mouth. He then flourished his hand and looked at me. "Dammit! When in the hell did this happen and why am I just now finding out about it?" He feigned a shocked expression.

  I couldn't help but laugh at his dramatized display. His sense of humor was, at times, self-deprecating. Especially when it came to his sexuality. He loved to poke fun at people who denounced gays or bisexuals, calling them benighted prejudice passés—which was, as he put it, a classier way of calling someone an ignorant, prejudiced Neanderthal.

  "Tea?" Leigh’s daughter Maya asked.

  I smiled and nodded my head. "Yes, I'd love some."

  Maya disappeared for a few minutes, only to return with a tray adorned with a variety of tea bags, a kettle of steaming hot water and two cups, which she placed on the stand between us before leaving.

  "Which do you want?" I picked up the four packets of tea. "There is Winter Berry Spice, Oprah Chai and Spiced Mandarin."

  "What's the fourth one in your hand?" He pointed.

  "Spiced apple cider; it's mine, so don't even think about it." I grinned.

  Bash sighed. "Well, damn." He closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the headrest as two of Leigh Chang's sisters began scrubbing our feet. "I'll take Oprah Chai. You better take a mental photograph, as this will be the only time I ever Australian-kiss a girl."

  "Australian what?"

  He opened one eye to peer at me. "Really, you've never heard of an Australian kiss?" I shook my head. "And I'm the gay one."

  "What is it?" I asked.

  "You know how they refer to Australia as the Land Down Under?"

  I nodded my head.

  He raised his perfectly waxed eyebrows and gave me a suggestive look.

  "Oh... Oh god." I felt myself blush and I spilled some of the hot water. "You are seriously something else, Seb."

  "If you think that’s bad, wait until you see the drink list for tonight’s party."

  I turned quickly, knocking my glass to the floor. "Dammit! Oh Leigh, I'm so sorry."

  She came over quickly and began picking up the shards with a towel, smiling sweetly. "It's no problem."