Page 13 of Royal Trouble
They entered the tack room in silence, and Xander busied himself putting away equipment. He stored his helmet and carefully positioned his mallet on the rack before taking a seat in one of the leather armchairs to remove his knee guards and boots. The wooden floor and walls were polished to a high shine, and the scent of lemon oil comingled with the aroma of horse sweat, tanned leather, and beeswax that hung in the air. It was a familiar and usually comforting scent, but it did little to set his mind at ease now.
“It’s only going to get worse as the wedding approaches,” Liam said, dropping gracefully into the chair beside Xander.
It might’ve been intended as brotherly advice, but it still grated. Maybe because for once he hadn’t actually been guilty of breaking royal protocol. “It’s not what it looked like. Everly’s dress split, and I let her borrow my jacket.” He tugged off a boot and slammed it down on the wooden floor with more force than necessary. “I was doing her a favor, for Chrissake.”
“It doesn’t matter what you were doing, only how the media spins it.” Liam raked a hand through his hair, as if the prospect of dodging the press for the next month was his burden to carry. Hell, maybe it was. Liam and Elena had gone through something similar back in New York, and he doubted his brother had forgotten the pain of having his personal life splashed all over the tabloids. Fortunately for Liam, it had only lasted a few weeks.
For Xander, it was a fucking way of life.
“You’ve got to keep your nose clean. If things go well at the polo match, Father will make a statement announcing the creation of the Blue and Gold Foundation with you as the royal sponsor and official head of the organization.”
Tension bunched up Xander’s shoulders, and he busied himself with his other boot. The last thing he needed was another reminder that he was the family fuckup. It was no secret that the only thing he excelled at was bringing shame to the royal family, but this would be different. He knew exactly what was at stake, and he’d do whatever it took to see the Blue and Gold Foundation to fruition. He grabbed his boots and rose to his feet, meeting his brother’s thoughtful gaze. “The foundation is important to me. I won’t do anything to jeopardize my involvement or the organization.”
“I know.” Liam stood and clapped him on the shoulder. “If I didn’t think you could do it—that you weren’t the right man for the job—I wouldn’t have suggested it to Father.” He grinned, the corner of his mouth hitching up. “Of course, I’d fail in my role as your elder brother if I didn’t point out that settling down with one woman would go a long way toward convincing our parents, and the public, that you’ve turned over a new leaf.”
Xander snorted and dropped his boots on the rack to be polished. “If you’re referring to Everly, I’m pretty sure she doesn’t even like me,” he said, feigning indifference. “Though if it’s on principle or because she thinks I’m a royal prick, it’s hard to say.”
Bollocks. It was definitely the latter.
“Smart woman,” Liam said, joining him at the boot rack.
“Arsehole.”
Liam chuckled, unfazed. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist. Lena wasn’t exactly my biggest fan when we first met, and look at us now, obscenely in love. There’s hope for you yet.”
Easy for Liam to say. He was the heir and the perfect son to boot. Unlike Xander, who would never be enough for a woman as smart and beautiful as Everly. He’d suspected as much, but when his personal secretary had delivered Everly’s dossier, his suspicions had been confirmed. She held a Master’s degree from an Ivy League school while he’d barely graduated Elmhurst.
“And look at the bright side,” Liam said, interrupting his thoughts. “If things don’t work out with Everly, Charlotte Dupont’s still on the market.”
“Lotte?” Xander snorted, not bothering to hide his disdain. The Duponts were one of the most powerful families in Valeria and close personal friends of Their Majesties, but he had no love for the Dupont heiress. Lotte had always been polite to his face, but he knew the kinds of things she and her friends whispered behind his back. Hell, the only reason he’d escorted her to Max and Lucy’s wedding was to appease his mother. It wasn’t a concession he intended to repeat. “Never happening. She’s a bloody viper.”
Liam nodded. “Well, then, you should probably know that Mother and the Duchess of Shrewsbury are still conspiring to join our houses by marriage to Lady Dupont. And since I’m no longer an option…”
Bloody fucking hell. “You can’t be serious?”
“Afraid so.”
Xander scrubbed a hand over his face. He had no interest in settling down. Not now, not ever. Letting people get close meant giving them the power to hurt you, and he didn’t need another person in his life to look down on him. “I appreciate the warning, but my sole focus right now is the Blue and Gold Foundation. Helping the families of Valeria’s heroes means everything to me, and getting the foundation off the ground will require my full attention.”
It was the truth. He wanted—no,needed—to do this, to be good at it. And he wasn’t going to let anything or anyone derail his focus. Not this time.
Chapter Four
Everly muttered a curse as her heel sank into the soft lawn surrounding the polo field. She briefly considered returning to the car for her sneakers but then nixed the idea. If she turned around now, she might lose her nerve.
Besides, even if stilettos weren’t the most practical choice for a sporting event, they were perfect for seducing the royal spare. No, that wasn’t right, she wasn’t going to seduce Xander. Not in the traditional sense anyway. More like learn his secrets and…sell them to pay her mother’s medical bills.
Yeah, because that sounds so much better.
She lifted her chin and ignored the sarcastic little inner voice. Whether she liked it or not, she had a job to do. And the sooner she got the job done, the sooner she could rebook her flight home and collect the bonus Larson had promised. She only had to write one exposé. Just one and she could put this toxic world in the rearview mirror where it belonged.
Besides, if she didn’t write the story, someone else would.
She needed the job, because she’d rather dance naked in Times Square than ask her father for help. And there was no way she could tell her mother that the anonymous angel donor paying for her cancer treatments was her own daughter, who’d run out of cash from her sordid gossip blog. On top of worrying about the money, she’d be heartbroken, and Everly wouldn’t burden her with that stress. The doctors said her breast cancer was in remission, and the only thing Everly wanted her worrying about was staying healthy.
She had to do this on her own, reservations be damned.
Sometimes adulting really sucked.