Sovalon Royals: The Complete Series Read online

  Marcus’s picture was everywhere.

  He was partying with another man, surrounded by scantily dressed women who had their hands all over him. And all the articles included her picture, too—saying how she’d been dumped, she’d been used…and that she’d been a fool to expect anything else. Her stomach roiled with a mix of morning sickness and utter disappointment. She slammed the computer shut and ran to the bathroom to throw up.

  12

  After Kyra’s belly was emptied of everything but a lining of regret, she couldn’t help herself. She went back to her computer and continued scanning through photo after heart-breaking photo of Marcus’s night on the town.

  What a fool she’d been to think that he could change.

  Another knock at her hotel door pulled her away from the computer. What now?

  Marcus stood in the doorway looking forlorn, guilty, and very hungover.

  “Please, Kyra, let me in,” he said. “I can explain everything.”

  She opened the door and allowed him in, reminded of his frantic attempts at explaining away the online articles she’d read just yesterday. Was this what their future would have been like? Him showing up at her doorstep every other day with explanations for his bad behavior? She didn’t have the stomach for this kind of life.

  “Marcus, do you think I’m a fool?” she asked, interrupting him from his litany of excuses.

  “Of course not,” he said.

  “Well, I think I am,” she told him, wanting to hurt him like he’d hurt her. “I never should have put any faith in you. You can’t be serious for one hot minute. You’ll always be a party boy.”

  “I swear to you the last thing I wanted to do last night was go out clubbing,” he said. His eyes dug into hers, and there was pain in them. She refused to be sympathetic. “The investor, Jonathan Glasgow, wanted to go out. He insisted we go to Skin.”

  Kyra rolled her eyes. What kind of place was called Skin? Somewhere seedy for sure.

  “Even if you didn’t want to go out, you did, and you lied to me about it. You knew I’d assume you were going to bed after I texted you last night, but those pictures were taken at four in the morning.” She shot him an accusing look. “So much for being tired.”

  Marcus bit his lip, and his fingers curled into a fist. For a minute, Kyra thought he might punch the wall or something, he looked so frustrated, but he didn’t. “Please cut me some slack,” he begged. “I’ll have enough to worry about when my father sees those photos.”

  Cut him some slack? Please.

  “For your information, your father had already seen them,” she said. “In fact, he’s the one who told me about them.”

  “What?” Marcus’s eyes bulged.

  “He showed up here earlier today with his posse of bodyguards.” Kyra nearly shivered remembering the coldness of the king’s words. “He told me you’re too immature to make decisions about your future, and then he tried to pay me off to leave without telling the press about our baby.”

  Marcus paled, and he shook his head.

  “I’m so sorry you had to deal with that, Kyra. But I can’t say I’m surprised that he came to you. He told me the same thing.”

  Kyra was shocked. Why hadn’t Marcus told her?

  “What did you say to him?”

  “I told him it was our decision and that we’d make it together.” He put a hand over Kyra’s, but she bristled and pulled hers away. “Look, you don’t have to worry,” he continued. “I’ll take care of my father, I promise.”

  She raised her eyebrows at him. “Just like you took care of that investor last night?”

  Marcus shot her a dirty look. “No! Not like that! That was unavoidable, I told you. I had to take him out.”

  “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

  “Easy for you to say,” he retorted. “You’re not the one everybody was counting on to get the investment.”

  Excuses. That’s all he was good for. She was done with this conversation and done with Marcus Ashton. He was no good to her if she couldn’t trust him. It was time to end things before they got worse.

  Anger coursed through her veins, both at Marcus for being weak and immature, and also at herself for being so gullible as to let him into her heart. “You know what, Marcus? You’re just like my sister. You promise you’ve changed, that you’ve grown up, and then you bounce right back into your old games. And you drag me into them, turning me into tabloid fodder. I’ve dealt with people like you my whole life, and I don’t need another one.”

  “What are you saying?” he asked quietly, looking broken.

  She was saying she couldn’t do this. How could she ever trust a man with a reputation and past like Marcus’s? Especially after he’d lied to her. Even if she wanted to give it another chance, they were too different to make things work. She’d never fit in with his family, and she had no desire to deal with his lifestyle and all the paparazzi it entailed.

  What they’d had at the estate had been a fairy tale. They couldn’t sustain it within the realm of reality.

  “I’m saying it was good while it lasted, but it just isn’t going to work,” she said, fighting back tears. “We aren’t going to work.”

  She explained her reasons to Marcus, who nodded but looked completely devastated. He didn’t argue with her but gave her a hug then dejectedly slumped out the door.

  As soon as the door closed, Kyra burst into tears.

  To Marcus’s chagrin, the next day he had to drive back out to the estate house to meet his brother Edward. The two had planned to meet to discuss renovations, which Edward’s fiancée would oversee. Clementine specialized in big restoration projects that involved old houses. She’d managed the reconstruction on their aunt’s old castle just last year. She was excited to start work on the estate.

  Everywhere Marcus looked, he saw Kyra. The minute he pulled up, he imagined Kyra standing on the wraparound porch, looking pretty, kissing him goodbye sweetly before the sneaky reporter began snapping pictures. The house itself reminded him of their lovemaking the night of the storm. He wished he could go back and do it all over.

  Maybe he’d find a way not to hurt her.

  But who was he kidding? More likely, he’d make the same mistakes.

  In the kitchen, Marcus noticed a leftover half-loaf of garlic bread from their spaghetti dinner. He tossed it in the trash, remembering the fun they’d had cooking with Ava.

  It was just a few days ago, and yet it felt like another lifetime. They were so happy out here, with the real world far away, but as soon as they returned to reality, everything fell apart. Kyra was right—it was just a fairy tale out here.

  “Hey, brother.”

  Marcus looked up to see Edward strolling through the kitchen doorway.

  “Hey, Edward.”

  “You look like you’re lost in thought,” his brother said. “Or maybe simply lost.”

  “I’m just tired,” he said. “It’s been a long and busy few days.”

  Edward patted him on the back. “And a successful few days as well, so I’m told. I hear you landed that investor in a matter of hours. Great work.”

  Marcus sighed. Life was so complicated. He’d gained the respect of his brother for closing a deal he’d won by losing the respect of the woman he wanted.

  “Want to walk the property and discuss renovations?” he asked.

  “That’s what I’m here for,” he said. “Let’s begin inside. It’s starting to rain.”

  With the mention of rain, Marcus remembered the bedroom upstairs where the water had come in. He mentioned it to Edward, then led him to it.

  As they passed the room where he and Kyra had spent the most amazing night of his life, he felt himself deflate. His shoulders sagged, and he sighed audibly.

  “Marcus,” Edward said. “What’s going on with you? You look like you’re about to cry.”

  “I’m not about to cry,” he said defensively, and Edward laughed.

  “What’s wrong
, bro?”

  Within a few minutes, he’d spilled the entire thing to Edward—the one-night stand, the pregnancy, and their father’s attempt to pay Kyra to leave the country.

  Edward’s mouth hung open.

  “A baby,” he said finally, sounding stunned.

  “Yeah, I know it’s a lot to digest all at once.”

  “To be honest, I’m not surprised Dad reacted that way,” Edward said. “He’s used to getting whatever he wants when he wants it.”

  “It didn’t shock me either,” he said. “But now Kyra definitely doesn’t want a relationship with me, doesn’t want me involved in the baby’s life. She’ll just go back to the US when the project is over.”

  “So, Dad will get exactly what he wanted, regardless of his behavior,” Edward said.

  Marcus nodded. “But maybe he was right about one thing—maybe it’s for the best that she leaves.”

  “You don’t seem convinced on that point.”

  “I’m not, I guess,” he admitted. “There was something different about Kyra. She made me want to be different, better.” Marcus was silent for a moment, considering what might have been. “But in the end, Dad was probably right to want her to go away. I’ll probably just go back to my old ways. The partying. The women. That’s what everyone expects, anyway.”

  “Wait a minute,” Edward said. “I don’t expect that of you.”

  Marcus gave Edward a doubting look.

  “I’m serious,” Edward insisted. “You’re totally committed to this project, like I’ve never seen you committed to anything before. You’re the one who came up with the idea of using the estate for the shelter. You approached Clementine and me. You vetted it. You secured the investor.”

  Marcus shrugged.

  “I’ve seen your true colors come out when you’re passionate about something, and you care about this project. It’s not just about impressing a girl.”

  “You’re right,” Marcus said. “I do care about the shelter, but that changes nothing with Kyra. She’s still going to return to the US. I still won’t see her or our baby again.”

  “Maybe,” Edward said, then elbowed him playfully. “But maybe not. It depends on how things shake out from here on in. And most importantly, it depends on what you both want, not what Dad wants.”

  “We know what Dad wants, and he’ll likely get it. He usually does.”

  Edward shook his head. “Stop worrying about Dad. He was never a big fan of Clementine, but he came around eventually.”

  “You’re probably right,” Marcus said. For better or worse, that was how their father worked. “But it’s Kyra I’m worried about. I’m not sure she’ll ever come around.”

  In fact, Marcus was pretty damn sure Kyra had made up her mind for good.

  13

  Kyra folded her favorite black blouse and placed it inside her suitcase. She took the two dresses off of their hangers and tucked them next to the blouse. She was tired of hotel living and anxious to get back to the comforts of home, to cook herself a meal in her own kitchen and sleep under her own thick comforter.

  The Sovalon project was wrapping up. Repairs and renovations were underway at the estate, and plans to open the women’s shelter were already set into motion. She’d put the contacts in place for all the initiatives the shelter would need once it opened—it would be someone else’s responsibility to see them brought to fruition. It had been a little over a week since Kyra had said goodbye to Marcus at her hotel room. She’d seen him from afar at work, but with the board broken up into committees, they had no real need for contact at this point. His focus was financing, and hers was in day-to-day operations. Kyra avoided Marcus as much as she could, both for her own protection—she didn’t want to get wrapped up again—and for the good of the shelter. They needed to maintain a positive professional manner with each other.

  She was originally slated to head back to Atlanta four days from now, but seeing that everything was basically finished, she’d decided to move her flight up and leave early. Her flight left in a few hours. It seemed pointless to stay here and torture herself with worry over running into Marcus, when she could remotely complete the remaining tasks that needed to be done.

  There was the whole issue of his being the father of her child. It seemed harsh to just up and leave without even saying goodbye, but she wanted things to be clean-cut and clear between them. No contact, no interference. His father would definitely approve of that. They could tie up any loose ends over the phone.

  She continued packing her things until everything was neatly tucked away. Other than the precious cargo she carried in her belly, she would do the same with every memory of her time in Sovalon.

  Tuck them away. Far, far away.

  She cradled her stomach and pondered what the future might have been like if things hadn’t gone awry with Marcus. No matter how she tried to tuck away the thoughts, she’d never truly forget the magical time they’d spent together at the estate. Every time Ava asked for spaghetti dinner from now on, she was sure she would think of him and what could have been.

  Kyra forced herself to finish her packing and pull herself together. She’d always been strong and focused. She couldn’t fall apart now. Now was the time when she’d have to be stronger than ever.

  She picked up the phone and called down to the front desk.

  “Can I help you?” the receptionist asked.

  “Yes. I need a taxi for the airport. Can someone at the front desk take care of that for me?”

  “Absolutely, Miss Rogers. We’ll get right on it.”

  Thirty minute later, she ducked into a cab.

  “Sovalon International Airport?” the driver asked.

  “Yes,” she said, trying hard to ignore the twinge of regret she felt. From the backseat, she glanced into the rearview and watched her hotel fade as they drove farther out of the city.

  Suddenly, her phone buzzed, jarring her from her thoughts.

  “Hello, this is Kyra.”

  “Hey, Kyra, it’s Neil Bryan.”

  Neil was a fellow member on the board for the women’s shelter.

  “Hi, Neil. What can I do for you?”

  “I just wanted to share the latest good news,” he said, sounding cheerful. “A significant financial contribution has been made to the project. It’s enough to not only complete everything on the desired timeline, but we can even upgrade some of the plans.”

  “Wow, that’s amazing.”

  At least she could return home feeling like she’d succeeded in doing a great job on the project.

  “Yeah, and it’s all thanks to Prince Marcus,” Neil said with a snort. “Who’d have thought he would have been such a valuable addition to the board, huh?”

  Thanks to who? “Sorry, Neil, could you repeat that?”

  “Apparently the playboy prince made quite the impression on our generous investor,” Neil said. “We already knew he’d agreed to make the contribution—he got the ball rolling on that after his night out with the prince. But today, the actual payment came through, and it was even more than the amount he’d initially promised. He included a message saying the additional funds were as thanks to Marcus for showing him the town.”

  Kyra shook her head, wondering what exactly Marcus had done to leave such an impression.

  “Except, rumor has it that Marcus isn’t quite the party animal the media makes him out to be,” Neil continued.

  “What do you mean?” she asked, her attention fully piqued.

  “Apparently, the investor commented that the prince didn’t really live up to his reputation of debauchery,” Neil said. “Glasgow is quite the womanizer, I guess, but when they went out, Prince Marcus wasn’t hitting on women. But it all worked out, because Glasgow said he was impressed by the prince’s professionalism, said it made him feel safe handing over his money.”

  Kyra was quiet for a long second, then thanked Neil for calling her with the good news.

  She hung up the phone feeling like a fool, and
as the taxi neared the airport, Kyra’s thoughts spun circles in her head. Had she made the right decision in pushing Marcus away?

  She was still angry that he’d lied, making her think he was turning in for the night when he’d actually been heading out clubbing. And she was still upset with the way the story had been spun by the media. But the second part wasn’t really Marcus’s fault, and the first part…was it really so unforgiveable? If she made it clear that honesty was crucial to her in a relationship, did she trust him to never make that mistake again?

  She did, she realized. She trusted him—and she cared for him, in spite of herself.

  But what was she supposed to do about that now?

  Marcus’s driver was waiting for him outside the Center for Social Welfare. It had been a grueling day of meetings with the financial directors and advisors for the women’s shelter project, and he was beat. All he wanted was to go home and chill. The minute he got into the Bentley, he sank into the comfortable leather seats and closed his eyes. A few seconds later, his phone rang.

  “This is Marcus,” he said, wondering what fire he was going to have to put out now. Discussions about budget had been brutal today, and he wasn’t in the mood for more of the same.

  “Marcus, it’s Edward.”

  Thank God. It was just his brother.

  “What’s up?”

  “Nothing pressing,” Edward said. “I’ve been reviewing the plans that you and Kyra put together for the estate, and I just wanted to tell you I’m damn impressed with your work. I’m proud of you, brother.”

  Marcus smiled sheepishly. He wasn’t sure anyone in his family had every said those words before.

  “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”

  “You and Kyra really pulled off a job well done, I’ll tell you that. You make a good team.”

  Marcus was silent. He appreciated his brother’s support, but he couldn’t go there. The memory of her telling him to leave was still too raw.

  “You know,” Edward continued, “relationships like that are hard to come by, professional or otherwise.”