Page 88 of The Duke's Virgin

Thirty

Luka

It was nearlynoon when I dragged myself out of bed. My head pounded, and there was a thick, nasty coating on my tongue. I could blame the bottle still sitting on the nightstand for my problems, but I was the one who’d opened the damned thing, hoping to drown out the memory of her face, the catch in her voice right before she left the room.

You’re wrong, though. The baby isn’t Emmett’s. You’re the only man I’ve ever been with.

I hadn’t had much success. I hadn’t exactly slept so much as passed out, and I still felt as exhausted as I’d been when I collapsed face down on the bed.

The sheets still smelled like her. Like us. Like sex and the erotic, intoxicating scent of her body. That scent was the reason I climbed out of bed, the reason I stumbled into the bathroom and into the shower, turning the heat up, hoping to steam away the headache and the misery, the scent of her that had settled into my pores.

It helped marginally.

A sports drink in the hotel refrigerator helped a little more while a cup of coffee and some painkillers offered a little more respite, but I still felt like shit.

The pounding on the door immediately made the brutal throb inside my head increase, and I got up only because I knew I had to make whoever in the hell was knockingstopit.

I had to know the person on the other side of the door. Otherwise, the hotel desk wouldn’t have given the visitor my information, and that cut the list down to only a handful of options.

I could easily nudge most of them right back to the elevator, leaving me free to drop back down on the bed and wait for the painkillers to kick in.

Already focused on the idea of stretching back out on the bed with the lights off, I opened the door.

“Aeric.” I frowned at him, vaguely surprised—and uneasy—at the sight of him, although he had been one of the few on the list who could have gotten my information. If the Hereditary Prince of Monaco couldn’t find the hotel room of a guest in the hotel so close to his own palace, who could?

He didn’t say anything, just shoved past me while my security team looked at me with varying degrees of confusion and apology. I waved them back and shut the door.

No sooner had I turned to face the other man than I found myself slammed up against that door, his hands fisted in the open lapels of my shirt.

“What the fu—”

He shoved his forearm against my neck.

I was hungover, and truth be told, still a bit drunk and not at my best, so he took me by surprise. I couldn’t precisely gape at him. He was using enough pressure to make it damn uncomfortable, and behind me, I could hear my men banging on the door, their concern apparent.

Aeric let up on the pressure at my throat. “Tell them to shut the fuck up.”

Pride had me wanting to tell him to fuck off, but at the same time, if I didn’t, my men would find a way into the room, and that wouldn’t be good for any of us.

“Would you calm down?” I bellowed through the door. “I’m fine.”

The pounding ceased immediately.

I grasped Aeric’s arm and shoved, but he didn’t move. The man was a veritable giant, towering over me by a good five inches, and I had no leverage. “Back the fuck off, Aeric, or I’m going to forget we’re friends.”

“I’ve already forgotten.” He pressed hard again for a count of ten then shoved away from me and paced farther into the room before spinning back to glare at me. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Me?” Pushing away from the door, I glared at him. His shout had my head ringing, but I wasn’t about to tell him to keep his voice down. “You’re the fuck who barged into my hotel room and proceeded to get into my face. What the fuck is wrong withyou?”

He prowled closer and pointed at me. “You’re going to stay the hell away from Stacia. You understand me?”

Fuck. Well, hell.Now,I understood. I was surprised she’d gone weeping to him, to be honest. Didn’t she think I’d push to see what she’d told him?

“What did she tell you?” Lies, no doubt, but I didn’t say that to him.

“What did she tell me?” He snorted, a look of sardonic, bitter amusement twisting his features. “Shetoldme that she’s pregnant, that you two fucked when she was here last, and when she told you she was pregnant, you assumed the baby belonged to Emmett Finch, then you kicked her out of your hotel room, but onlyafteraccusing her of trying to trick you into marriage or conning you for money.” He paused, cocking his head. “Did she miss something?”

I opened my mouth, then shut it. Apparently, she’d told him just about everything.

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