Prince Albert (A Step-Brother Romance #4)

I swallow hard to quell the growing feeling of nausea in my belly.

Then Albie turns around and looks at me. "That was Noah," he says. "Apparently my sister did talk to one of the security team about the remote. They're doing a sweep of the palace now."

I swear my heart stops beating. "What are you talking about? A sweep of the palace?" I ask. My voice is high-pitched, more like a squeak. "They're looking for the remote that goes with that…oh, holy shit."

"The remote to the vibrator?" he asks, chuckling.

The bastard is laughing. He thinks this is funny.

"What's wrong with you?" I hiss. "They're going to bomb sweep the palace, and that's hilarious to you? They're going to catch us in here. Everything is a joke to you."

"Relax, Belle," he says. He's calm. Too damn calm. How the hell is he so composed when they're looking for the remote control to the vibrator that he used to make me come at dinner tonight…in front of the entire royal family?

This is not a time for being calm. This is time for freaking the fuck out.

The fact that he tells me to relax makes me do exactly the opposite of relax. I can feel myself spinning up, my anxiety spiraling out of control. I'm about to be publicly humiliated. We're about to be publicly humiliated.

"Don't tell me to relax," I say, positively seething with anger and panic. "Do you just love being the butt of jokes in the headlines?"

An odd expression crosses his face, and I think I might have hurt him. "Calm down, luv," he says, his voice clipped. "This will stay our filthy little secret. No one's going to know you fucked Prince Albert."

"Albie, I didn't mean –" I start, but he interrupts me, putting his hand up.

"You need to get out of here," he says. "Obviously we don't need to be seen leaving this room together."

"What if they search you?"

Albie laughs now, not even bothering to try to be quiet. I'm going to smack him. So help me, I'm about to smack the Crown Prince of Protrovia.

Then the door opens. I stand there like a deer in the headlights.

Shit.

"Oh. Prince Albert. Miss Kensington," Noah says.

"I've been taking Miss Kensington on a tour of the palace," Albie says, suddenly business-like, a paragon of sophistication. "Can you believe she hasn't seen all of the important rooms?"

"Yes," I say. "A tour."

I don't look at Noah. I avoid making eye contact, because surely it's written all over my face. Hell, it's probably hanging in the air in the throne room – the smell of sex. And I have no idea what he did with the condom.

Don't panic. Don't panic.

Breathe.

Noah speaks into a microphone on his wrist. "Throne room is clear. I've accounted for the Prince and Miss Kensington."

Out in the hallway, Albie speaks to Noah. "About that remote…"

My heart sinks. Surely Albie isn't this reckless. I think I might faint.

"I know it was your sister who reported the remote, sir," he says. "But we still need to follow protocol. Of course we're keeping everything quiet, under the circumstances, since it's your father's engagement party."

I swallow hard. "Do my mother and the King know about the…bomb scare?"

"Of course," Noah says. "They've been apprised of the situation. If we think the threat is legitimate, we'll initiate the Chess Protocol."

"I'm afraid to ask what that means."

"Protect the King," Albie says. "In the event of an emergency."

Of course. They'll initiate the Chess Protocol.

To protect the royal family from the security risk associated with my renegade vibrator.

It would almost be funny, if this scenario didn't involve my imminent public humiliation.

"About that remote…" Albie says.

Don't vomit, I tell myself.

Noah sighs. "If you're about to tell me this was you, Albie…"

Albie shrugs. "I'd rather not say, with her here."

"What?" I squeak. "What aren't you going to say in front of me?"

"It's personal," Albie says, raising his eyebrows and giving me a look. "And my personal life really isn't any of your business, don't you think?"

"I see," I say, not seeing at all. I wouldn't put it past Albie to brag to Noah about hooking up with me. Who knows how close the two of them really are? Maybe Albie brags about all of his exploits. The thought makes me dizzy. "Am I free to go, then?"

"Of course," Noah says. "But stay in the wing near the ballroom, please. We haven't swept the residences yet."

I dart into the closest bathroom I can find to clean myself up, certain that my indiscretion is written all over my face. But instead, when I look in the mirror I see a slight hint of pink on my cheeks. The flush makes me look well rested, which is better than looking well fucked, I supposed.

And I was fucked well, wasn't I?

My fingers linger on my lips, the sensation of his bruising kisses still there even now. I can still feel him throbbing between my legs, sense his hands on my breasts.

I need to get out of here before my mind lingers too long on things it shouldn't.

I open the door and walk straight into her.