Page 3 of Royally Drawn (Resplendent Royals #3)

Overboard

INGRID

R efilling my drink at the bar, I ran into another handsome prince. The Lyons boys were everywhere . It rained tall, gorgeous men for the British royals—starting with Queen Natalie’s only child, Prince Duncan. Then, there were the four sons of her late brother, Paul—Princes Keir, Nate, Edwin, and Oliver. I’d met all the younger three but never Prince Keir, the British spare.

“You’re the new girl.”

“New girl?” I asked. “As opposed to the old girl? I think the oldest person here is like thirty-five.”

“I just meant new-to-us.”

I rolled my eyes. “New to you lot. Not new to Cici and the Norwegians.”

“You joined the Scandinavian cult.”

“You were one foot in, one foot out last I heard.”

All I knew about Keir was that he and his brothers had spent time in Norway from a young age. Their mother was half-Norwegian, half-American.

“It’s complicated.”

The Brits and Norwegians had intermarried like vines growing together. Keir’s Aunt Kiersten, Cecilia’s mother, left the UK to marry the now-King Olav. After Keir’s father died of cancer in his early thirties, his mother remarried the Norwegian spare, and the whole family moved to Norway. It was an interesting multicultural, somewhat incestuous mishmash of what you’d expect from royals.

He took a long swig of his beer. “Everything is. At least with all of us.”

I didn’t have a pithy response. I was too focused on his jawline and trying not to stare at his bare chest. It was neither completely hairless nor too hairy. I hated to admit I did find chest hair somewhat sexy. I much preferred hyper-masculine men to those who were a little sweeter. A strong brow and chin that could cut glass drew me like a moth to a flame.

“Even you? It cannot be so complicated for someone like you,” Keir said.

“Uh? Someone like me? Why’s that?”

“Last I heard, you’re beautiful, charming, and talented. Also, you’re the youngest, which is the best one to be, right?”

I blushed, looking for a witty comeback. I cracked jokes for fun. However, as his green eyes fixed on me, I struggled to make a sound. What was happening? And was he flirting with me? That seemed impossible.

“I… I suppose,” I answered. “I mean, being the youngest. It’s… fine.”

I awkwardly leaned forward in the small bar area, reaching into the tiny beer fridge. There was no way he wasn’t staring at my ass. As I came back up, I realised he wasn’t even trying to avoid me catching him.

“Take a picture. It will last longer,” I said, annoyed.

“Oh, she’s fiery!”

He grabbed a beer from a box under the bar and stepped forward to restock the fridge before closing the door. At least he was thoughtful. We stood there, face-to-face, too close. I could feel his eyes on me, even though I looked down at his sandal-clad feet. They dwarfed my bare feet and tiny toes.

“I gotta… go,” I murmured .

“How do you figure?”

I thought he was holding me there as he placed one hand on the counter behind me, blocking my exit from the small bar.

“Excuse me?”

Keir handed me a bottle opener. “Unless you want to ruin your pretty teeth, I don’t know how you’d open that. Just looking out for you.”

I flushed red hot. Fuck!

He took the beer from my hand as I stood there, mouth gaping. Adeptly popping the cap, he smiled and handed it back.

“Now you can go and do… whatever you need doing?”

“Uh… sure… merci .”

“ De rien ,” he said back in masterful French.

I shouldn’t have swooned, but I did. Something about his gaze made me flutter. I was sure he was toying with me, but what if he wasn’t?”

I ended up back down near the diving platform on the back of the ship. We could see nothing but other yachts and boats bobbing for miles. I loved sitting on a lounger under the shade of the deck below. The Swedes, also there on a rented yacht, swam over from their ship. Even with all the space on this yacht, there wasn’t enough room for everyone. We needed multiple vessels.

“It’s lovely,” one called out.

“Lovely for who?” Leah, Cici’s cousin, called back. “Lovely by Scandinavian standards?”

They beckoned her to jump. Cici, Betty, and Isak were already in the water.

Leah looked over at me. “If she goes, I’ll go. She’s a neutral party.”

“What? She’s not Switzerland,” Duncan said. He was the wild but sexy mountain of a man. I suspected he was having too much fun.

“Did they not teach you history at Cranwell? Neandia remained neutral in the Second World War,” Leah said.

“After Belgium drug us through hell in the First World War and there was an invasion of enemy forces,” I explained, “we decided to sit that one out.”

“But didn’t it improve your fortunes? ”

I looked over and spotted Keir.

“Well, we did become an independent nation, yes,” I agreed. “After the Great War, as you’d call it. But it wasn’t as if it was easy .”

“A banker’s paradise,” Keir said. “I hear it is nice, however—charming, even.”

“Who did you hear that from?” Duncan scoffed.

I glared at him. “At least our weather isn’t shit, we have decent coffee, and the men are generally attractive.”

“Oooooh!”

Laughter rang out from the crowd watching. I’d gotten him good. And, in a way, I’d hoped to nail it to Keir, too. I sensed he believed himself superior in that his mere interest turned my brain to mush.

Duncan, either cross or thinking I was flirting—I wasn’t—seized the moment. He tossed me over his shoulders like a potato sack and spun me around.

“I take that as a great offence to my country, Princess!” Duncan declared. “And for that, you must walk the plank.”

That was how I ended up unceremoniously tossed into the Caribbean, cursing the asshole that was the Prince of Wales.