The Reluctant Wife: A Bodyguard – Princess Marriage of Convenience Romance (The Davenports Book 4)

The Reluctant Wife: Chapter 26



‘I can explain,’ I increase my pace so I can keep pace with his longer stride. He takes the stairs two at a time, with me right behind him.

‘Aura,’ Gavin calls from behind me.

‘I’ll be back,’ I call out over my shoulder.

Ahead of me, Ryot stiffens, then doubles his speed. By the time I reach the landing, he’s disappeared into the room where I slept last night. He’s really pissed with me. And I deserve it. But surely he can listen to what I have to say?

‘Ryot!’ I burst into the room. ‘Can you give me a second?’

He ignores me and, walking to the closet in the corner, pulls out a duffel bag. It’s half full, so perhaps, this is the bag that Tyler dropped off?

He picks up the clothes I wore yesterday from the chair where I placed them and shoves them inside, along with the Doc Martens I wore.

‘What are you doing?’

He continues to move around the room, stuffing the charger of my phone into the bag, and zips it up. Then, he snatches a second duffel from the closet. He heads into the bathroom and emerges with some toiletries which he stuffs inside, along with the clothes he was wearing yesterday. I walk over and grip his arm.

He shakes it off.

My heart sinks into my stomach. I feel like someone took a battering ram to my chest. I shove away the hurt and plant my feet. He’s going to listen to me, even if I have to force him to do so. ‘Can you at least do me the courtesy of giving me a few seconds of your time?’ I cry.

He drops first one bag, then the other, on the floor between us, and slaps his hand on his hips. His stance is belligerent. He fixes me with his gorgeous green eyes, and in them, I see disdain. And an accusation I know he’s right to level against me.

That sinking feeling in my stomach spreads until I feel it’s swallowing me up completely. I’m sure my frustration must show on my face, but he doesn’t acknowledge it. His green eyes turn into glacial sheets that resembled frozen absinthe. He could cut me with his glance. Tear my heart to pieces.

Oh wait, I did that to myself already. I am the princess of Verenza, but I am also human. I make mistakes. And this…might be the most expensive one of them all. But I’m going to try to fix it. I must fix it.

I hold up my hands. ‘Ryot, I’m sorry. I really am, for not telling you about the betrothal.’

His jaw grows harder. That tell-tale nerve throbs at his temple. Anger radiates off of him, mixed with icy contempt. He seems to grow taller and looks more forbidding than I’ve seen him before. I deserve his derision.

‘I thought you knew about my impending marriage. I assumed my engagement would have been mentioned in my file.” Somehow, my reasoning, which I used to convince myself, seems lame. Even to my ears.

His eyes blaze, but his voice is barely audible. “You thought I’d fuck you, knowing you were engaged to be married? You think I’m a cheater?”

I draw in a sharp breath.

His lips twist. ‘Couldn’t find anyone else to help sow your oats, so you decided to use me, did you, Princess? I was attracted enough to you that you could seduce me. I was a willing dick on which you could lose your virginity, is that it?’

‘That’s not fair, I—’ I wring my hands. ‘The attraction between us did take me by surprise. It’s also what confused me, and I was swept away by my feelings for you, and⁠—’

‘Feelings? Don’t talk to me about feelings.” A nerve pops at his temple. “You led me to believe you were available. I had no reason to doubt that. I was taken in by your innocence. There was no mention of your engagement in your file either, because your father had it removed.”

My father didn’t want to publicize this engagement. So, it’s not a surprise he had it removed from my file.

I glance away, then back at him. “This marriage is a business transaction.”

His gaze narrows.

I feel my courage slip. Feel my stomach tremble and taste the bile on my tongue. Nope. Not going to be sick. I square my shoulders. I am going to see this through. I am going to face his wrath, even if I feel like running away and hiding. Even if a part of me wants to throw myself at his feet and beg him for forgiveness. And ask him to do anything he wants with me, except— Seeing the scorn in his gaze, I’m not sure if that’s the right move.

No, I won’t lose his respect for me any more than I already have. I’m going to face up to him. I’m going to own this. I have to. I need to…find a way to make him understand.

‘My father drilled into me and my brothers that, as part of the Royal Family, my happiness is secondary to my responsibility to my country.’

A flicker of something crosses his gaze. Just enough, I know I’ve gotten through to him.

‘You were a Marine. You know what it is to believe in a cause that’s larger than yourself.’

He doesn’t nod. But he’s still listening, and he hasn’t walked away, which I count as a win.

‘So, when my father told me that Verenza’s economy has been shrinking over the past decade and that we urgently need an infusion of money, and asked me for help, I couldn’t refuse.’

‘What does that have to do with—’ His brow smooths out. A glimmer of understanding dawns in his expression ‘He wants you to marry that fuckface in return for⁠—’

I nod. ‘Gavin belongs to a Royal Family in Europe who are no longer recognized by their country. They live in exile. They have access to familial wealth. Enough that if our two families were joined by marriage, they’d be willing to provide an infusion of money into Verenza. In return, they’ll once again be recognized as royalty and be accepted by their peers; and Gavin gets a title.’

‘So, you took the hit for the family?’ he drawls. There’s not an ounce of sympathy on his features.

What did I expect? That he’d understand my point of view and forgive me right away?

‘My father told me what was needed of me, and I chose to do it out of duty. I have no feelings for the man I’m supposed to marry. And when I met you… the way I felt—” I swallow. “I knew then, I couldn’t just settle for an arranged marriage without being with someone with whom the chemistry was off the charts. So yes, I wanted to give you, my virginity.”

His features turn to stone.

“I admit, I lied by omission. But I thought you knew. Then, I reasoned, if I reminded you that I was engaged, you’d never sleep with me.”

“You’re bloody right, I wouldn’t have.” His voice is so harsh it feels like a whiplash. I flinch.

“I’m sorry, I hurt you. I truly am.”

He narrows his gaze. “Are you?”

“I am.” I take a step in his direction, wanting to go to him, but the tension radiating off of him forms an invisible wall I don’t dare attempt to scale. I settle for holding his gaze and infusing everything I’m feeling into my voice.

“I wasn’t thinking straight. I was being selfish. I panicked at the thought that I might never get a chance to be with you.” I swallow. “I knew, if I gave you my virginity it would be incredible. I thought I’d have, at least, some memories to hold onto when things got tough in the future. I wanted something just for me.”

He listens to me without a hint of emotion on his features.

I wring my fingers. “Only, I didn’t realize how thoughts of you have become so much a part of me that I’ll never be able to forget you.” I lower my chin. “I knew it would be intense with you, and it was. It was everything.”

A nerve throbs above his jawline. He doesn’t say anything, and I wring my hands. I feel terrible for what happened. How could I have been this selfish? How could I have not realized how much it was going to affect him when he found out about my upcoming marriage? How could I have been this blind to how much anguish this was going to cause him?

“I am so sorry, Ryot. Please, can you forgive me?”

His left eyelid twitches. ‘You used me. You didn’t care what that would do to me?’

“I… I…” I’m not sure what to say. Nothing I say is going to help redeem this situation. I’m the one at fault. I made a huge mistake. I was only thinking of myself. “I… Somehow, I thought it wouldn’t mean much to you.”

I flinch as I say the words, realizing just how self-absorbed and insensitive I sound. And I am all of that.

“I’m to blame. It’s all my fault. I was only thinking of myself. Guess for all my hate of my background and privilege, I’ve acted exactly like how an entitled, pampered person born into money would.” I hang my head.

I feel horrible inside. My stomach twists in on itself. I taste bile on my tongue and am sure I’m going to be sick. And then, as if I can’t stop myself, like a gush of vomit, the words pour out.

“Somehow, I thought you’d welcome the chance to sleep with me, then walk away.’ I laugh bitterly.

OMG, that sounds terrible. I can’t believe that my self-esteem is so in the toilet I would think that. Worse, how could I say that aloud to him?

He glares at me.

“I know that sounds terrible. And I’m not saying you’re callous enough to have done that, but it’s also not like we made any promises to each other either.”

His jaw clenches.

“And don’t most men welcome the chance to walk away after sleeping with a woman without any strings attached?” My voice tapers off.

With each word I speak, his gaze grows fiercer.

When he speaks, his voice is hard enough to cut glass. “You thought I’d sleep with you and that it wouldn’t affect me, so you decided not to tell me that you were going to marry someone else? You didn’t give me a choice in the matter.”

I flush. I’m an awful person. I judged him so harshly. I should have known better. He’s been nothing but kind and considerate toward me, and I assumed the worst.

I did hurt him. And I hurt myself even more. I feel a gaping hole in my chest, like someone just ripped out my heart. And that someone was me. I deflate. Still, I have to explain myself.

‘I’m sorry I made assumptions about what you would or wouldn’t do. I’m sorry I didn’t give you all the facts and allow you to decide for yourself. I really am.”

Anger, then something like sympathy, flashes in his eyes. How confusing. He looks at me like he’s seeing me for the first time.

‘It’s one thing that you thought my being with you wouldn’t mean anything.’ His voice has a tone of resignation. ‘What bothers me more is that’s what you thought you deserve.”


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