The Dare Collection September 2018. Stefanie London

days.”

      “Or maybe it will help.” She raises her brows, and I am fucking powerless against her earnestness.

      I smile.

      “You don’t give up, do you?”

      She shakes her head. Then she rises on the toes of her riding boots and kisses me. It is not the hunger-filled need from before but something brand-new. And it’s as if the very air around us shifts.

      She returns to the ground, and the spell is broken.

      “We should get the horses,” she says. Then she laces her fingers through mine and pulls me from the clearing.

      It’s when she mounts Puddin’ that the first flash almost blinds my vision, and the horse’s front legs rise frantically in the air.

      The photographer for the photo op.

      “Whoa!” Juliet calls out while I still see spots of color. “Whoa, boy. That’s it.”

      When my vision clears, she’s already calmed the horse, but that doesn’t stop me from stalking toward the photographer, ripping the camera from his hand and readying to smash it to pieces either on the ground or over his head.

      “Damien!” Juliet cries. “Don’t!” Her voice makes me pause. “This isn’t the message we want to send to either of our kingdoms,” she says softly. “If you do something you’ll regret and word gets out...”

      I look at the camera in my hand. It’s a good one from what I can tell. Probably cost the guy a small fortune.

      When I glance up at him, his eyes are wide with terror.

      I step toward him, camera in hand, and he flinches.

      “You can’t surprise people like that, especially with large, unpredictable animals.” He nods as I hold the camera out for him to take. “Two pictures and no flash,” I add. “You almost killed my wife.”

      I hop onto my own horse and sidle him up next to Juliet. Her eyes are wide and her cheeks pink.

      “Can we be on the record now, Your Highness?” the photographer asks.

      I nod once. “Write whatever you want to write about the princess and me.” I hold the reins in one hand and cradle Juliet’s still-pink cheek in the other. “You like when I call you wife?” I say softly.

      She grins. “I like when you want to burn the world down to protect me.”

      I want to tell her I’m not that guy. But instead, I turn toward the photographer and wink.

      “Here’s your damn photo,” I say. Then I kiss my stranger-wife long and hard, feeling her skin heat beneath my palm.

      If the world wants us on display, then I’m going to give it one hell of a fucking show.

      Juliet

      I arrive at the royal dining hall at 7:00 p.m. A note from Nikolai arrived not long after I returned from my ride with Damien requesting that I join the Lorentz family for a group meeting at that time. I want to tell them all about the new idea bursting my heart, that I establish an equine therapy program for underserved Edenvale children, but something in the brusque tone of the note has me on edge. This could be nothing but a simple family meal, but that hopefulness extinguishes as I take my seat at the long, mahogany table.

      I’m the last to arrive.

      The king is at the United Nations attending a diplomatic meeting, so Nikolai is seated in his place at the head of the table and staring daggers into my husband.

      “Good evening, everyone,” I murmur, opening my napkin and folding it over my beige sheath. Kate and Evangeline were busy in my absence, because my closet is now well-stocked with a range of elegant yet understated clothing boasting labels from Europe’s top design houses. I don’t have time to thank them before Nikolai snaps.

      “I wouldn’t say good.”

      Damien slams a hand on the table, the reverberation echoes to the rafters. “That’s your one warning. Take your anger out on me, brother,” he snarls. “Not my wife.”

      My brows fly up. “What’s happened?” I ask my husband, my pleasure at the fact he rose to my defense overriding my concern for any misstep I’ve made.

      “How do you think Nightgardin is going to react when they see this?” Nikolai lifts a tablet from his lap and taps something on the screen. “Ah, here it is. A Royal Mess: The Banished Prince of Edenvale Corrupts the Nightgardin Heir.” He glances up, nostrils flaring. “It’s from the Rosegate Tattler. What were you two idiots doing feeding the gossip magazines fresh fodder?”

      “Wait a second,” Damien says. “That wasn’t someone from the Edenvale press? Juliet told me you all thought we should have a public outing—show the world that Edenvale and Nightgardin were a united front!”

      He glances at me, the mistrust in his eyes all too familiar.

      “I didn’t lie,” I say firmly.

      “No,” Nikolai snaps. “But I would think both of you should know the difference between a palace reporter and a Rosegate paparazzo.”

      I clear my throat. “We were—distracted. We didn’t ask for his credentials.” My cheeks flame when I think of Damien’s cock between my legs, my breasts, and I squirm in my chair. “I’m sure the reports are exaggerating.”

      “There are pictures!” Nikolai spins the tablet around and there we are, locked in a passionate kiss atop our respective horses.

      “Looks like holy matrimony suits you both,” Benedict quips from across the table.

      “Don’t you start.” Nikolai lifts a warning finger.

      “Darling,” Kate protests, reaching for her husband’s hand.

      “I’m sorry.” My hackles are up. I push back my seat and stand up. “We made a mistake, yes. But we went to the stables to do what you all wanted us to do. Just because that Rosegate photographer beat yours to the punch doesn’t mean my husband or I should be held at fault because the story isn’t spun the way you want it. And how dare you judge, Prince Nikolai.” I practically spit his name. “I lived in a veritable cloister in Nightgardin and tales of your womanizing exploits even reached my scandalized ears. You all wanted a united front, and that’s exactly what we gave you, no matter what the article says.”

      The room falls silent.

      “She has a point,” Kate murmurs, her cheeks as red as her fiery hair. “You’re hardly one to wag your finger.”

      “Let Rosegate do their worst,” Damien growls, rising to stand beside me, taking my hand. “I’ll defend me and mine.”

      “A laudable sentiment, brother, but forgive me if I remind you that if our theories are correct, the last time you encountered the Nightgardin Black Watch, you came out worse for wear.”

      Damien’s laugh is a harsh bark. “You almost sound worried about me.”

      “I was,” Nikolai says quietly. His admission doesn’t come easily. “You might drive me halfway to madness, but you are still my brother.”

      “Father sent me away, but you disowned me,” Damien says, his voice tight. “Both you and Benedict did.”

      Nikolai rakes a hand through his hair. “The days after Victoria died, I wasn’t at my best.”

      “It was a hard and confusing time for our family,” Benedict adds quietly. “I’m not proud of my behavior and have tried to make amends.”

      “Hard? Confusing? That’s a diplomatic way to say I murdered my brother’s fiancée.”

      “Life is full of dark times,” Evangeline finally speaks up. “Our choice lies in how we face the darkness. I’ve found that we can defeat the shadows only with light.”