Forever Theirs Read online

  It wasn’t quite a denial of her command to get out, but it was clear he wouldn’t be going anywhere until he did exactly as he intended. Meg set her jaw and went through the motions of closing up. Theo’s presence shadowed her every step despite the fact he never moved from his spot near the back door. It didn’t matter. She could feel him taking up more than his fair share of space, his energy too much for this dingy bar.

  After double checking that the front door was locked and the Open sign was off, Meg headed for the back door. She nearly missed a step. God, he was so gorgeous it actually hurt to look at him. He wasn’t as brutally large as Galen, built more like a blade meant to slice and stab than a crushing war hammer. But his white shirt still stretched across serious muscles in his shoulders and chest, and she knew from experience exactly how much strength he could bring to the table.

  Stop that.

  Stop thinking about that night.

  Theo held the door open for her and she caught a whiff of his scent as she stepped past him. It stopped her cold. Sandalwood and spice. A combination she would associate with the best sex of her life until her dying breath. Meg closed her eyes and inhaled, taking in every bit of him she could manage, a junkie in need of the smallest fix.

  She couldn’t say yes to whatever he was proposing. It might start with dinner, but it wouldn’t end there. And wherever it ended would only result in her plans derailed, her heart shredded, and her life in shambles.

  No, Meg couldn’t say yes.

  She forced herself to open her eyes and keep moving. She locked the door behind her and headed for the street. Theo kept pace easily. “No car?”

  Who drove in New York? Oh yeah, someone as rich as sin like Theo. “I take the subway.”

  “The subway.” He said the words like talking about shit on the bottom of his shoe. “No. Absolutely not.” Theo fished a set of keys out of his jeans and pushed a button, making a car down the street chirp. Meg didn’t need to look at it to know it was expensive. Of course it was.

  She clung to her patience with slippery fingers. “Goodnight, Theo.” If she got into the car with him, she had no idea where she’d end up. Not because Theo was some crazy murderer, but because Meg didn’t trust herself with him. Throw Galen into the mix and she was a goner.

  No, her only option lay in running as far and as fast as she could.

  “Meg.” There it was again, that hint of growl in her name. He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming her despite there being a good foot between them. “Meg, let me walk you to the subway station.” He reached out and tucked a flyaway strand behind her ear, his thumb brushing across her jaw as he withdrew. That tiny touch had lightning dancing beneath her skin. She wanted him. Good lord, she wanted him. Meg was Pavlov’s dog panting for another taste.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She reached out without having any intention of moving and touched his bottom lip. Meg dropped her hand immediately, the memory of his lips on other parts of her burning through her body. What was she thinking? She had to get out of here and she had to do it now. It took every bit of will she had to step back and then step back again. “Please don’t come here again.”

  Theo studied her with those gorgeous blue eyes. He seemed to see more than she had any intention of showing, and she held her breath as he considered. Finally, he nodded. “Okay, princess. I won’t come back here again.” He shifted closer and cupped her jaw. Even knowing she should shove him away, Meg couldn’t help leaning in, a flower seeking his warm sunlight. His lips brushed hers, the contact so fleeting she was half sure she imagined it.

  And then he was gone, releasing her from the trap of his touch and moving back. “You know where to find me should you change your mind.”

  “That won’t happen.” It might happen.

  “I guess we’ll see, won’t we?” He chuckled and headed for his car.

  “Arrogant ass,” she muttered. Theo might be sin personified, but he was wrong on this note. She would not be seeking him out.

  Meg headed for the subway, every step leaching out the spark of energy being in Theo’s presence had brought her. By the time she made it home, she wasn’t a woman who’d caught the handsome prince’s eye. She was just a graduate student with more debt than she knew what to do with and no magical solution for how to keep moving forward.

  The door to her apartment was perpetually off its level, so she had to throw her shoulder into it to get it both opened and closed. The flimsy deadbolt wouldn’t keep out a mouse determined to break in, but she’d never had a problem with that sort of thing in the years she’d lived here.

  A quick shower and she collapsed face-down in her bed. Normally, she worked too damn hard to be anything but completely exhausted at the end of her days and sleep came with little effort, but tonight her mind wouldn’t stop racing.

  Impossible not to compare her shitty bed with the one in Theo and Galen’s apartment, the one that had fit all three of them with ease and felt like sleeping on a cloud. Meg rolled over and cursed into her pillow. Stop it, stop it, stop it. There are a thousand and one reasons why staying away from them is the only choice you have, and you know it. Good sex is the only reason why saying yes would be great.

  Good sex did not outweigh all the bad. It just didn’t.

  She had to remember that.

  Seconds ticked into minutes into hours as Meg watched the city lights play across her ceiling. She had a meeting in the morning to explore financial options with the college, and she needed not to be totally exhausted for it, but that wasn’t going to happen.

  Damn Theo.

  At six, she gave up and took a shower. As she got ready, she rehearsed what she’d say to the financial advisor. They saw cases like hers all the time, and unfortunately the college wasn’t in the business of charity. Meg’s financial aid had run dry last year, and she wasn’t in a position to petition for grants at this point. She was up shit creek without a paddle, and that’s exactly what the financial guy would tell her when she sat down with him.

  But she had to try.

  Worst case, I take a hiatus and spend a year saving money and working my ass off and complete my degree next year.

  It wasn’t the end of the world if she had to defer. It just felt that way.

  She carefully applied her makeup—a low-key lipstick and eyeshadow meant to look like she wasn’t wearing anything at all—and dressed in her one good professional outfit. A dress she’d rescued from her friend Cara’s donation pile and made adjustments to, and the heels she’d worn when she graduated high school. They weren’t fancy, but the black pumps completed the look better than boots or flip-flops would.

  An hour later, she knocked on the door and stepped into the office. “Mr. Taneka?”

  “Come in, come in.” He didn’t look up from his computer as she approached the faded chairs situated in front of his desk. They’d only met a few times over the course of her college career, but she was always struck by how small Mr. Taneka was. Physically, he could only be termed delicate, but that impression didn’t last once he opened his mouth. His voice was a deep bass and his attitude, frankly, sucked. He was fewer than five years out from retirement, and his complete lack of give-a-damn was never more apparent than when she’d asked him for help.

  Now, she was here to ask for it again, hopefully with a better outcome.

  Meg had nowhere else to turn.

  She watched the clock as he finished doing whatever he was doing on his computer. It could have been solitaire for all Meg knew. At ten minutes, she cleared her throat.

  Mr. Taneka sighed. “You’re still here?”

  “Well… yes.” She clasped her hands together and fought to keep her voice even and neutral. “We haven’t had our meeting yet, Mr. Taneka. Fall tuition is due this week and I’m hoping you have a solution that will help me keep from having to take time off.”

  He sighed again, louder this time, and sat back. “Ms. Sanders, I don’t know why you’re wasting both our time.”
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  “Excuse me?” He’d been blunt before, but this was above and beyond. She pressed her lips together to keep from screaming in his face. What did he have to worry about? He had a cushy office job and his path through retirement and beyond was all but assured.

  She didn’t have the luxury.

  She didn’t have any luxury.

  Mr. Taneka gave her a look like she’d escaped a mental ward to storm into his office and ruin his day. “What game are you playing, Ms. Sanders? Your tuition is paid in full.”

  Meg blinked. “What? That’s impossible.”

  “On the contrary, I have the information right here.” He turned the screen to face her. Sure enough, the balance owed was at zero.

  Impossible.

  She was two grand short yesterday. Meg wasn’t the type of person who just magically misplaced two thousand dollars. How could—

  No.

  No, he wouldn’t dare.

  She cleared her throat. “Would it be possible to see the source of that payment?”

  “Ms. Sa—”

  “A name, Mr. Taneka. I just need a name. Please.”

  Another of those long-suffering sighs. He clicked a few buttons. “A Mr. Theo Fitzcharles made the payment at five this morning.”

  That son of a bitch.

  2

  Galen Mikos stepped off the private plane and inhaled deeply. It didn’t matter that he was at a private airport, surrounded by asphalt and jet engine fumes. It smelled like honeysuckle and home. There were so many things he didn’t miss about being in Thalania on a day-to-day basis—mainly the backbiting and politicking—but he missed this.

  The country.

  His country.

  The country Theo would rule someday, if they managed to pull off a coup.

  Galen cursed himself for his fanciful thoughts and checked his phone. There was nothing from his best friend, which shouldn’t have sent his instincts clanging, but Theo tended to let his stubbornness get in the way of his good sense, and being back in New York… Yeah, Galen knew exactly where his friend’s head was at.

  Theo promised to keep his hands off Meg for all their sakes, but Galen didn’t think for a second that promise would hold. Theo had a strange moral code and though he took his word seriously, he would create loopholes with that big twisty brain of his, and then it would be up to Galen to get them out of trouble.

  Again.

  Most days, he didn’t hold it against his friend. It was just the way Theo was.

  Galen owed him everything. Wading through shitstorms from time to time was a small price to pay for a tally sheet he’d never balance even if he spent the rest of his life as Theo’s shadow. His friend—his fucking Crown Prince—would be pissed to hear him say it, but it was the truth.

  And he wasn’t solving a damn thing by standing here, brooding on shit he couldn’t control. Theo would do what Theo would do. Galen was in Thalania for twelve hours. He’d deal with whatever situation arose when he flew back to New York.

  In the meantime, he had a different kind of nightmare to deal with.

  Family.

  While Galen technically hadn’t been exiled, he couldn’t set foot in the palace without causing an international incident. The current Crown Prince was Theo’s little brother, Edward, and while he wasn’t a bad kid as such things went, he was seventeen and heavily under the influence of his uncle. That bastard, Galen would love to spend five minutes alone with. Unfortunately, it wasn’t in the cards.

  A matte silver Rolls Royce waited next to the hangar, and he rolled his eyes as he stalked to it and slid into the backseat. “Nice car, old man.”

  Dorian Mikos curled his upper lip at the sight of his son. “If I’d known you were going to dress like a peasant, I would have put down a towel.”

  Galen glanced down at his worn jeans and raised an eyebrow. “Some of us don’t feel the need to wave our dicks around to prove how much money we have.” His father, on the other hand, was dressed in a three-piece suit that some designer had likely created specifically for him. It shone a little with every move, giving a hint of purple against the blue as the sun danced along its surface. Combined with the alligator loafers and a fucking lacy handkerchief tucked into his front pocket, he looked every inch a dandy. All he needed was a jeweled cane to swing about.

  Dorian stared at him for a long moment as if deciding how best to manipulate the situation to his advantage. He was good at that shit, but Galen knew his tricks better than anyone. Just like he knew how his father reacted when his manipulations failed—with his fists. He leaned back against the door and crossed his arms over his chest, intentionally taking up more space than strictly necessary. That’s right, you asshole. Tread carefully. “You summoned me. I’m here. Might as well stop wasting both our time and get down to business.”

  Another beat of silence. Dorian gave a warm smile. He was a slimmer, more metro version of Galen, dark hair groomed within an inch of its life, his carefully curated five o’clock shadow giving just enough edge that he played up his masculinity despite his clothing. An act. All of it was an act. Dorian changed personalities the way some predators changed camouflage. The end game was all that mattered to him, and if it meant staging a coup against a reigning monarch, he wouldn’t blink.

  He hadn’t blinked when he’d tried and failed to take out Theo’s father fifteen years ago.

  Don’t dwell in the past. He wants you here about the future. Pay attention.

  Finally, Dorian leaned forward. “Your mother wants you home.”

  For fuck’s sake. “Not this again.” His home had never been in any of the many properties his parents owned. His father made damn sure of that. When Galen was sixteen, shit hit the fan, and the only person who offered him a safe space in the storm was Theo.

  Theo was his fucking home.

  Not even Thalania could compare.

  And the man sitting next to him who just happened to be his sperm donor sure as fuck didn’t figure into it.

  “She convinced Phillip to agree to pardon you. And you know what Phillip agrees to, he’ll get Edward to agree to. His hand is so far up the Crown Prince’s ass, it’s a wonder the Phillip’s voice doesn’t sound when Edward speaks.”

  Galen dropped his arms. “He’s offering to pardon me? What the fuck does he have to pardon me for? I committed no crimes.” No crime except being loyal to the only true Crown Prince. If Theo’s father, the former king, was still alive, none of this shit would have happened. But a strange illness took him at the hale age of fifty-five, and hell if any of the court physicians could figure out the cause of it.

  Murder by poison, most likely, though there wasn’t the slightest bit of proof to uphold Galen’s belief.

  Even Theo didn’t believe him.

  “You followed Theodore Fitzcharles III into exile. You’ve been plotting with him to stage a coup of your own.”

  Galen didn’t let anything show on his face. It stood to reason that rumor had flown back to Thalania on quick wings. He and Theo weren’t exactly in hiding, but he didn’t want to advertise their intentions—at least not until they had enough cards up their sleeves to ensure they could win. Until that point, he would deny it to his dying day. “I don’t know what you’ve been smoking, old man, but we’re just trying to pick up the pieces after the blow you dealt. How’s Phillip these days? Do you still suck his cock morning, noon, and night?”

  Dorian’s mouth went tight. “There’s only one person in this car who sucks cock, and it’s not me.”

  “If you say so.” Galen shrugged. “You should have called. It would have saved you the jet fuel. I’m not coming back. I made my choice. You and Anne should learn to live with it.”

  “There’s more.”

  He clenched his jaw and waited. This wouldn’t be good. Dorian never stopped scheming and seeing a decade’s worth of plans come to fruition wouldn’t be enough to change that. His father went and proved him right with his next words. “We’ve arranged an advantageous match.” When G
alen just stared, Dorian smiled wider. “Thought that might catch your interest. Camilla Fitzcharles.”

  Galen laughed. He couldn’t help it. The whole situation was too fucking absurd. “You want me to marry Cami? The same girl whose diapers I changed? Are you out of your fucking mind? She’s a child.” She was fifteen… no, it was August. She would have turned sixteen over the summer. Galen shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re into, but I don’t fuck kids.”

  “She’ll be of age in two years. Hardly that much time to wait in the grand scheme of things.”

  “Even when she’s of age, she’ll still be a kid. I’m not marrying a fucking kid.” Not that Galen had any intention of marrying in the first place.

  But if he ever pulled that particular trigger, it sure as hell wouldn’t be for political gain.

  “Next time, try a phone call and don’t waste everyone’s time.” He climbed out of the car and headed for the plane. It should be well on its way to being refueled, and then he’d be en route back to New York.

  Back to Theo.

  Meg spent the day working and stewing over the knowledge sitting like a rock in her gut. Not only was Theo back in New York, but he was meddling in her life. Not just meddling, but swinging around his giant moneyed cock like he thought he had any right to.

  She poured three shots of whiskey and slid them across the bar to the waiting men. What does Galen think of all this? She didn’t know because she hadn’t seen evidence of him since Theo showed up.

  It didn’t matter.

  Theo crossed the line when he paid for her tuition. She couldn’t afford to repay him. If she could, then she would have paid the damn tuition herself. He wasn’t stupid. He knew that. Which meant he was using this money to lasso her to him and hell like she was going to let that stand.

  “Meg?”

  She glanced over to find her best friend Cara watching her with worried dark eyes. “Yeah?”

  “Honey, are you mad at that glass? You’ve been glaring and scrubbing for like five minutes. It’s clean.” Cara gently extracted the tumbler in question from her grip and set it on the shelf below the bar. “You want to talk about what’s bothering you?”