Royally Screwed Part 21

"I'm hanging up on you now," Kat said.

"Love you too."

Kat ended the call and after a second lobbed her phone across the room it wasn't out of the question for Lane to call back to argue more if she was bored or thought of a good retort. Why did everyone keep thinking she was going to marry the Prince? His mother, his sister, now Lane it was getting repet.i.tive. Sebastian didn't love her. Sure, he loved to sleep with her but she wanted more than that, needed more than that.

Kat ran distracted hands through her hair and brushed her fingertips along the scar at the back of her head, tucked neatly above her hairline where no one could see it. She remembered it like it was yesterday Blaze screaming, her mother throwing that chair. The noise was so loud she could feel the pounding of the stereo against her eardrums. The tile floor had been cold when she fell against it, Blaze running to see if she was okay, their mother still ranting at the walls in the background. Blaze liked to insist their mother had tried but they still had to let her go. That's what worried her the most if he was right then how did anyone ever survive. Kat needed to believe in the worst; that she just never tried hard enough.

She knew what it took to stay with someone like that, knew all too well how it broke good people down. Her father left, her mother left, even a time when Randi was halfway out the door and leaving Mitch behind, too much for her to take. And Kat knew all about genetics and statistics and probability. And the fear. She wasn't out of the woods yet that life could still be hers. Only love birthed from storybooks could survive such a twist. She wasn't going to settle into permanence with anything less than a 'happily ever after' and most days she was certain those didn't even exist.

Chapter 20.

The next morning flashed by in a blur. The ball was that night, reintroducing Sebastian to the many eligible ladies in the land. So much pomp and circ.u.mstance, Kat wondered if they were going to marry him on the spot to anyone who fit a gla.s.s slipper. It was finally her moment to feel useful though. Telling everyone she was a matchmaker had every decision thrown in her lap. She looked through dossiers on all the eligible women who would be in attendance and spent an hour with the royal event planner. Kat, for once, felt like her presence wasn't just to stand by Sebastian's side.

When she was done, Anastasia found her wondering the corridors, lost again. They spent the rest of the morning talking and choosing a dress for Kat to wear. She felt like she was caught in a tornado, being whisked off to places unknown. So much bustle and activity; she needed just a few moments to catch her breath.

Kat was sitting in the window seat reading when he entered. A real smile hit Sebastian's face for the first time that day. He'd been standing out in the cold shooting game with his father, uncle and Anton, afraid to turn his back and get impaled with dissatisfaction from His Royal Highness or just impaled by his cousin. The afternoon could have gone better. Though no one died so it could have gone worse as well.

"I've been looking for you," he said.

She turned to him, contemplatively, and he wondered what that look was about. "Well you've found me," she said after a moment, closing her book with a snap.

"The question is what am I going to do with you?" He came to stand right next to her, a thin pretext of trying to see what she was reading allowing him to prop himself up against the wall and lean over her.

"Don't look at me like that. You're not getting any," she answered tiredly.

"What?" Sebastian tried for shock but when he failed miserably he laughed and changed tactics. "So you can use me for warmth but I can't get anything out of the deal?"

She stood, making him back up across the floor, and gave him one of those knowing looks, raised eyebrow cutting straight across all of his masquerading logic. "Just try and tell me you weren't supremely satisfied. I dare you."

He grinned and couldn't stop himself from drifting closer to her. "You've got me there," he admitted in a husky voice. He leaned in to kiss her but she turned her head and stepped away.

"What happened to the one night stand man?" she asked, her tough girl att.i.tude seeming just a little bit strained.

Sebastian let it slide right by but adopted his own haughty tone to match. "Kitty Kat are you bad at math?"

She waved that away as she walked across the room to the bar to grab a drink. "We're in a different country, it doesn't count."

"One night stand per country, that's what you're saying?"

"That's what I'm saying," she snapped. Her statement came out shorter than she wanted it to. Kat brought a hand up to her head and rubbed, trying to erase away a memory or a headache, Sebastian couldn't tell.

"Are you okay?" he asked with sincerity, all posturing and s.e.xy undertones gone from his voice.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," she said, her rote response so engrained that she wasn't sure she'd ever answered anything else. And it was rarely ever the truth.

"Kat Kisa what is wrong?" He grabbed her shoulders and when she wouldn't look at him, he slipped a hand up to caress her cheek and turn her face to his.

She didn't know nothing, everything, the things in between. One conversation with his mother and Lane and she wasn't sure about any of it anymore. She hadn't heard from her brother in hours. Hours spent looking at pictures of gorgeous women trying to determine who would be his wife. All she'd managed to concentrate on all day was the look in Sebastian's eyes when she'd joined him on that d.a.m.n couch, when he'd told her that she was delicious, when he'd made her feel like no one else ever had. It was just s.e.x . . . wasn't it?

"Nothing," she whispered, shaking the thoughts out of her head and his hand from her face. "I just don't feel much like being propositioned for a nooner today, okay?"

"What about, say, four fifteen in the afternoon?" he joked, checking his watch.

She punched him in the shoulder and he backed away, physically, emotionally, slipping effortlessly back from paramour to pal. "Look at the big shot who thinks he has time to fool around with me anyway? Don't you have a ball to get ready for?"

"I'm a guy, and a prince. And a cla.s.sically good-looking one at that. I can clean up in half an hour. Fifteen minutes if we're going for scruffy rebel."

"Well I take much longer than that. And s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g around with you is not part of my beauty regimen."

"Could be," he murmured with a rakish wiggle of his eyebrows.

"In your dreams Casanova."

"Always the good ones."

"Well I need to start getting ready and you should too." She looked him up and down. "Take the whole half hour."

He put a hand over his heart like she'd shot him. "You don't like the scruffy look?"

"I adore the scruffy look. A room of dignitaries and important people, one of whom may be your future wife, for them you could put out a little effort."

He sighed. "I suppose you're right. Are you sure you can find your room without getting lost? I make a great tour guide."

"You're not getting any."

"No possibility of a little something something, eh?"

"Absolutely none."

"I have presented myself for inspection," Sebastian said, walking right into her bedroom without as much as a knock. Kat wasn't anywhere to be seen, not lounging around in a scandalized version of undress, and his face fell a bit. "And I mean that just as dirty as it sounded."

"I'll be right out," she yelled from the bathroom. "Don't get into too much trouble out there."

After a quick scan of the room, and a walk to the buffet to pour a scotch, he dropped down into a wingback chair. He'd done a lot of waiting on women in his life and he was used to it, the endless stretches of lost time. But as he sat there it dawned on him that he'd spent very little of it waiting on Kat. And it was ironic because, though she never kept him waiting, she would have been well worth any wait.

"How do I look?" she asked, jarring him out of his thoughts. He stood slowly, wanting to savor the sight of her, a lascivious look impossible to keep off of his face.

"Oh how I blush," she murmured.

"Purple is definitely your color," he mused, his eyes drifting down to her bare shoulders and sweetheart neckline. Those thin straps around her neck couldn't have been much use in keeping everything in place and he simultaneously praised and cursed gravity.

"I'm up here," she said in a mocking voice, motioning with her hands to draw his attention upward. Another fine view, her hair now a swath of soft curls he'd love to lose himself in. A dastardly desire to smear her perfectly applied make-up had him smiling that debonair smile he thought no woman could resist.

"Don't look at me like that," Kat said with a roll of her eyes. "And come here, your tie's crooked."

He submitted willingly to the quick, proficient attention of her hands. "A kiss for luck?"

"Just because if I don't and you strike out, I'll never hear the end of it," she acquiesced. She shook her head in amus.e.m.e.nt and leaned in to place a peck on his cheek. But he was quicker, turning to capture her lips with his. He kissed her soundly and then couldn't resist taking it deeper, opening her mouth to his with the pressure of his tongue. His hand came up to her face, his thumb skirting across the rosy apple of her cheek and a wave of desire rocked him, his soft touch daring her to deny it as they kissed again, rife with pa.s.sion.

A knock sounded on the door, a quick rap, and Sebastian's head turned towards it, breaking them apart. Kat looked the other way, not able to stop a hand from coming up to her face in surprise.

"There you are Sir. It is time." Sergei's face was neutral as ever but Sebastian saw the question in it. He couldn't answer; he didn't know himself.

"Ready to go?" Sebastian asked Kat. She wouldn't look at him, just stepped away. Then caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

"Just a minute," she huffed, the annoyance managing to chase away everything else. She leaned forward and grabbed a tissue from the dresser, grabbed another and threw it towards Sebastian. He watched her as she pulled a lipstick from the bodice of her dress and pressed it against her lips. He couldn't help but raise a brow when she turned back to look at him and slipped the tube back out of view.

"Aren't we going?" she asked with an innocent look. "Oh, and you have something just right there," she added, miming to Sebastian on her lips as she breezed by. He watched her walk away, her hips swaying hypnotically, begging him to follow, and he spared no haste in doing so.

"So do you remember the rules?" Kat asked as he caught up with her in the hallway.

"Remind me," he purred with a s.e.xy growl.

She rolled her eyes but indulged. "Don't lead any women on, if you're not interested move on. Stay away from the star struck co-eds, looking for longevity not novelty. And, above all else, no s.e.x during or after the party."

"None at all?" he asked, giving her a meaningful wink.

She smirked and shook her head, enjoying the rush of color that seeped into her cheeks. A moment of indecision struck her first she didn't want him to hit on her, now she did. What was wrong with her? When was the last time she'd had such trouble making up her mind? Had she ever had such trouble?

"Just keep them pants zipped Casanova." Behind them, Sergei coughed slightly to cover a laugh. "When was the last time a one night stand developed into something more, huh?"

"You're turning out quite nicely," Sebastian whispered as they stopped at the entrance, waiting to be introduced. The herald stepped up but Sebastian waved him away and took Kat's hand.

The first step over the threshold took her breath away. She'd been to parties before, worked tons of galas and fancy events, but she'd never attended them, never made decisions for them, never been on the guest list, never walked in intending to be seen instead of just blending into the background. And seen she was as she walked in with the Royal Prince even unannounced, eyes quickly found him.

The ballroom itself was simply exquisite, an architectural marvel with a high, domed ceiling covered in an intricate mural. The room looked even better than she'd imagined that morning as she directed them to move tables and bars. It seemed to s.h.i.+ne all on its own, the polished marble gleaming. For a moment she was blinded by it all, by the experience, by the moment, by the emotions. Cinderella, finally going to the ball.

"So who do we like?" Sebastian murmured in her ear, drawing her out of her reverie as his hand came to rest in the small of her back.

"Oh, um, hmm," she murmured, pulling her attention back to the reason she was here. She wasn't Cinderella; she was the Fairy G.o.dmother, making everyone else's dreams come true.

Kat scanned the crowd. She saw a brunette in a bright red dress that looked promising, chatting with a General in the corner the schoolteacher from up the street. There was a pet.i.te redhead at the bar wearing a traditional Sezynian tumeric that accentuated her feminine curves the daughter of the cultural amba.s.sador. But then Kat saw her, looking like she walked right out of Sebastian's imagination, everything he said he wanted in a woman. The tall blond turned, mid-laugh, and Kat just . . . snap . . . knew.

"Do you see her?" she asked under her breath, a mischievous look tugging at the corner of her smile.

"Who?"

"The woman you're going to marry," Kat replied confidently.

But instead of Sebastian scanning the crowd, he turned his eyes to Kat's face. "You're serious aren't you?"

"One made to order queen," she answered with a snap, gesturing across the room to where the blond stood.

"Wish me luck," he said after a moment, grabbing two gla.s.ses of champagne from a pa.s.sing tray. Kat pressed her fingers to her lips and then laid them against his cheek another kiss for luck.

"Having fun?" She jumped, the male voice breaking into her thoughts.

"Of course."

He laughed. "Really?"

Roman was smiling at her and she quickly scanned for his wife before answering. "No, not really," she admitted. She was a bit overwhelmed in her new role as guest. Kat glanced back across the room at Sebastian and the blonde she'd steered him towards. A bit of jealousy reared at their bent heads. All the ways that she didn't measure up started shouting at her. "Truth is I feel a bit out of place."

"You get used to that." Even Roman's heavily accented English couldn't hide the lie in that statement.

"Really?"

"No, not really," he parroted back at her. Kat wondered how Anastasia had managed to get so lucky. "Can I have this dance?" he asked with a bow as a new song began to play.

"You dance, do you?"

"Never do. Such a shame." The man was unabashedly charming, like Sebastian. Though he wasn't making much sense, it didn't really matter.

"I would be honored." He took her hand and led her out into the middle of the dance floor. "Not a song that should be wasted on the wall," he said at the look on her face.

"So why don't you dance?" Kat asked as they waltzed in a circle. "You're very good at it."

"Thank you," he replied with an inclined head and a twinkling smile. "I don't dance because, well, it often gives the young women a, how do you say, wrong impression? No one wants to hear that you're happily married to a princess and people want to prove you wrong. It's very bad to be rich and happy, you see."

"So you never get to dance?"

A huge grin spread across his face. "Except with my wife. With her, I dance every day."

"Well I see why she wants to keep you all to herself then. I am enjoying myself very much. You aren't afraid I'll put the moves on you?"

At that he laughed, and she couldn't help but join in. "You are firecracker. I like you. You should stick around."

Kat looked away, sneaking another glance at Sebastian. He was still talking with the blond, almost an hour now. At a c.o.c.ktail party that was eons. She may have finally found the one; she thought she'd be happier about it. "For the next few days," she answered.

He looked at her down his nose; she'd intentionally misunderstood him and they both knew it. "Well then try very much to make them worth remembering."

"Alone at last," Roman said with a pleased sigh as he closed the door to their suite.

Anastasia laughed. "Oh no, such a torture. Poor baby had to drink champagne and dance the night away."

She stopped in front of the vanity and took off her tiara. Roman came up behind her and unclasped her necklace, throwing it down with little care.

"Careful," she admonished, unclipping her earrings.

"I thought you liked it rough," he murmured against her hair. She laughed and he placed a soft kiss behind her ear, slowly running his hands down her arm. His palm stopped at her forearm and he slowly slipped the bangles off her wrist, gentle enough that they didn't even make a sound as they hit the table.