Page 20 of Royal Darling
I immediately jump to Jackson’s defense. “I hid on Jackson’s houseboat, a complete coincidence, and then, after he very kindly agreed to drop me off in Nantes, he came to my rescue when the press and paparazzi mobbed me.”
“Where were the guards?” Lucas demands, looking around accusingly.
I glance around. Viktor and Oliver must be scouting the house and property. “It wasn’t their fault. I ventured out before I saw them. They were on their way to me.”
“Why would you do that?” Lucas asks.
I shrug, careful not to look in Jackson’s direction. I don’t want to share the real reason—Jackson’s rejection—in front of him. I’d like to keep a shred of dignity.
“Why?” Lucas presses.
I blow out a breath. “I wasn’t thinking clearly. This has been the longest day of my life.”
His voice gentles, and somehow that makes the words slice deeper. “Gabriel was frantic over where you went. Abdul was crushed. He waited so long for you. And his family is furious. And surely you know about Jackson’s latest scandal. Now he’s tied to you in the press.”
“Fuck the press,” Jackson says.
Lucas glares at him and says in a voice of steel, “Our family’s name is being dragged through the mud.” I’ve never heard my brother take charge in this way. Maybe because he’s never had the opportunity, being third in line for the throne. I just wish I wasn’t the one he’s decided he’s in charge of.
“I don’t love Abdul,” I say softly. “I’m not ready for marriage.”
Lucas’s aquamarine eyes, so like our father’s, are kind and understanding. “You cracked under the pressure. It’s a wonder you didn’t crack earlier the way you always rigidly stuck to royal protocol. You’re as bad as Gabriel.”
I nod. “That’s why I’m so grateful for this brief reprieve in Italy.”
He pulls me in for a quick hug and kisses the top of my head. I give him a watery smile at the unexpected affection.
“Get some sleep,” he says. “You’ll need it to face whatever is coming at you tomorrow.”
I straighten in my seat. He’s right. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, but I know it won’t be good. I’ve made more of a mess of things bringing Jackson here, and Gabriel is sure to let me know his displeasure. Tonight might be my only night of peace for a long while.
Lucas stands and asks Jackson, “Why exactly are you here?”
Jackson lifts his palms. “I’m—”
I leap from my seat. “Jackson has agreed to be my guitar teacher.”
Jackson rubs the back of his neck while Lucas looks at him suspiciously.
“Isn’t that nice?” Lucas drawls. “Guitar lessons from a rock star. New part-time gig for the front man of Ignite?”
“I’ll go first thing in the morning,” Jackson mutters.
“No!” I exclaim. Lucas’s head whips toward me. I’m usually not prone to outbursts and rarely raise my voice. “You’re staying,” I add in a level voice.
Lucas shakes his head. “Emma, you haveno ideathe heads that will roll with him here with you. Abdul and his family, our family, the press, especially with our new venture—”
“It’s one week,” I say in as reasonable a voice as I can muster. Though it might only be one day.
Jackson grumbles, “I’m off to bed.” He grabs his duffel bag and guitar case and heads upstairs.
I follow him, dragging my heavy suitcase up the stairs. Lucas snatches my suitcase and carries it for me, passing me on the stairs. Once he gets to the top, he tells Jackson, “Here’s your room.” He points to the room closest to the stairwell. “Come on, Emma, you get the master bedroom as your reward for finally pulling your head out of the sand and taking charge of your life. Even though you did it in the most disastrous way possible. See what a good big brother I am?”
I open my mouth and then close it again. It almost sounded like a thank-you was in order, but I’m also vaguely insulted. He deposits my suitcase in the room and steps in the hallway, announcing loud enough for Jackson and the entire country to hear, “I’ll be in the room next to Emma’s.”
The door to Jackson’s room shuts.
I turn to Lucas, mortified. “What is your problem? I don’t need you to stand guard. Jackson is no threat to me.”
