Page 42 of Royal Darling
“That’s how it used to be. And just now with you singing, it felt that way again. Thanks so much, Emma.”
“It’s nothing, really.”
“It’severything.”
I smile and nod. “It’s special. I know that. I’ve always loved listening to music, but now it’s like I’m inside it.”
He cocks his head at me. “Have you ever written lyrics?”
“Me? No. I’ve never written anything before.”
“Ah, then this is your homework. I’ve got a melody in need of your lyrics.”
My hand goes to my throat. “Why mine?”
“Because I want to hear your voice coming through, your soul, what speaks to you. Not as Emma the princess, as Emma the musician, the woman who rocked my world this morning.”
I lean close, attempting a sexy flirtatious tone. “That sounds like we hooked up this morning.”
His head jerks back. “Hooked up? The virgin princess knows of such things?” His voice is high and proper, in a poor imitation of my own.
I lift my chin. “Don’t listen to my brothers. They don’t know everything about me.”
He sets his guitar carefully back in its case and stands in front of me, his voice low. “Are you telling me you’re not a virgin princess?”
I cross my legs and rest my hands on top, pleased with the turn in the conversation. Maybe he’s getting a great idea. “That is exactly what I’m telling you.”
His hands form fists. “Who touched you?”
My jaw drops, shocked at his tone. “Why does it matter?”
“Because if you’ve been engaged since you were sixteen, it’s either your arsehole fiancé or someone who took advantage, someone you trusted. And that makes me want to punch him.”
“It was someone I trusted.”
He sits next to me, his blue eyes hard. “Who?”
“Calm down. It was consensual. I loved him.”
He shoves a hand through his hair, still looking pissed off. I’m shocked at the change in him, protective and caring. The music was my way in with him, and I wouldn’t have known it if he hadn’t listened to my private moment singing in my room. Maybe I need to live more out loud, put more of my true self out there publicly.
I share with him what I’ve never shared with anyone. “He was my guard. Adam.”
His jaw clenches. “One of the guards that was here earlier with Anna and Gabriel?”
I shake my head. “He doesn’t work for us anymore.” I pause, memories of Adam rushing back. “When I went to university, a guard was assigned to me, a new one, very well trained. My father chose him special for me because he was skilled in martial arts and weapons. He could be lethal if needed and quiet about it.”
His lips crook to the side. “So your father sent you off to university with an assassin.”
I lift one shoulder. “I never thought about it like that. I suppose my father just wanted peace of mind that no harm would come to me. I was eighteen, away from home for the first time, and terribly homesick. Adam was French, but his English was quite good. He sounded like home. And he was young too, twenty-two, on his first big assignment away from home. I didn’t mean for it to happen. Somehow our talks turned to longing looks and then—”
“He took advantage.”
“No. I told him I loved him.”
He sucks in air. “Just put it out there like that?”
“Yes.” I take a deep breath, remembering the sweetness of that time. “It was all so fresh and raw, my feelings bursting out of me. I thought it had to be mutual. I couldn’t be the only one feeling so much.”
