Felix and the Prince: A Forever Wilde Novel
Felix and the Prince
A Forever Wilde Novel
Lucy Lennox
Copyright © 2017 by Lucy Lennox
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover Designer: Angstyg - www.AngstyG.com
Cover Photography: Wander Aguiar Photography - www.wanderaguiar.com
Editor: One Love Editing - www.OneLoveEditing.com
Professional Beta Reading: Leslie Copeland (lcopelandwrites@gmail.com)
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Created with Vellum
Contents
Series Note
Acknowledgments
The Wilde Family
Author’s Note:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Epilogue
Epilogue Continued
Letter from Lucy
About the Author
Also by Lucy Lennox
Series Note
The Forever Wilde series is set in the same world as the Made Marian series but will feature a different family and locations. It is not at all necessary to read the Made Marian novels to enjoy the Forever Wilde novels.
Felix and the Prince, Forever Wilde book two, can be read as a complete standalone, but if you’d like more Wilde adventures, check out Facing West, Forever Wilde book one, which introduces the very large Wilde family from tiny, fictional Hobie, Texas.
Each Forever Wilde novel tells the story of a different Wilde child finding true love.
Happy reading!
Acknowledgments
(It seriously takes a village.)
Chad Williams. For making my dreams come true by sending me a photo of my books in print on the shelf in an actual bookstore and for providing invaluable feedback on Felix’s story and making me laugh in the process.
My sister, Bear. For reading, cutting, laughing, slashing, and ultimately helping make Felix a better story as usual. If not for you, I wouldn’t have even thought to write a royal romance in the first place.
Andrew and Wander for creating the gorgeous cover image.
AngstyG for making the image into a stunning cover.
Sandra at OneLove Editing for being incredibly flexible, thorough, and sweet.
Sloane Kennedy for being patient with me and not bragging TOO much about having finished four books while I finished just the one.
My family for supporting me even when I said “I’m almost done” ten thousand times and never meant it once.
The Wilde Family
Grandpa and Doc Wilde
Their children:
Bill, Gina, Brenda, and Jaqueline
Bill married Shelby. Their children are:
Hudson
West (meets Nico in Facing West)
MJ
Saint
Otto (Upcoming Book #3)
King
Hallie
Winnie
Cal
Sassy
Gina married Carmen. Their children are:
Quinn
Max
Jason
Brenda married Hollis. Their children are:
Kathryn-Anne (Katie)
William-Weston (Web)
Jackson-Wyatt (Jack)
Jacqueline’s child:
Felix (meets Lio in Felix and the Prince)
Author’s Note:
For the sake of being able to write a fictional story about a king, I had to create an imaginary monarchy or borrow an existing one. I did a little of both. Apologies to my readers familiar with Monaco who know my prince isn’t actually part of the royal family there. Thank you for suspending your disbelief enough for me to write this tale.
While I have, indeed, traveled to Monaco twice, go ahead and assume most details about the country, especially the government and royal family, are made up. In my Wilde world, Monaco’s monarchy includes the expected Monte Carlo area near Nice on the Mediterranean Sea as well as a large swath of land between the Netherlands and Denmark (my apologies to you Germans living there), and several islands in the North Sea. This entirety is known as Liorland the way England, Scotland, Wales, etc. is known as Great Britain.
In actuality, there is no “king” of Monaco. There is a prince because Monaco is a principality. All apologies to Albert Alexandre Louis Pierre Grimaldi, His Serene Highness, Prince Albert II of Monaco.
Chapter 1
William Triannon Frederik Harald Christien Grimaldi of Liorland
“Huh?” I asked, turning over and bumping into a familiar, hairy chest.
The groggy voice behind me spoke again. “It’s almost four in the morning. You need to get the hell out of here.”
“Shit.” I sat up and looked around, orienting myself. I was in my friend Iggy’s flat again. We’d been out clubbing the night before. As had become our habit too often lately, we’d ditched the women we’d been dancing with and gone back to his place for a quick fuck.
“Yeah,” he mumbled, turning over and presenting his bare ass to me. “I should have booted you out hours ago. If I find the paps on my stoop in the morning, I’ll kick your ass. Plus, I have a date tomorrow night with that guy I told you about, so I need my beauty sleep.”
I stood up and found my clothes in a rumpled pile by the bed. My phone and wallet were still in the pockets, and I quickly texted my driver to come pick me up by the side entrance to the building and made my way to the door.
As soon as I opened it, a pair of royally pissed-off eyes glared back at me.
Fuck.
“Sorry, mate,” I muttered to my bodyguard, Jon. “Let’s go. Hans is outside waiting.”
“Feel better now?” Jon smirked once we were safely behind the tinted glass of the sedan. “All nice and relaxed?”
“Fuck off.” I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes. “You’re just jealous you didn’t get any tonight.”
“Who said I didn’t get any?” he joked, quirking his eyebrow and tilting his head toward my sixty-something-year-old driver.
I couldn’t help but bark out a laugh. “Right. Hey, Hans, when was the last time you got lucky?”
“Nineteen eighty-seven, I believe,” Hans replied wistfully. “Her name was Marbelle.”
Jon snickered at me in the back
seat while Hans continued. “Way better tits than you’ve ever had, Jonathan. And the woman could suck—”
“No!” I sputtered. “Please. You’ve been with me since I was twelve. Jesus, Hans. You’re like my grandpa.”
“Then maybe don’t ask, sir,” he replied with a sniff. “And may your beloved grandfather rest in peace.”
I thought about my grandfather. Hans referred to him often. Grandpa, King Lior VII, had been one of the greats. An all-around good man and benevolent leader. Smart as a whip and savvy in European diplomacy. I missed him like crazy.
“He’s probably not resting at all, and you know it. More than likely he’s chasing Grande around heaven,” I suggested.
“Your grandmother was a beautiful woman, Lior. I wouldn’t blame the king at all for not letting her get any peace up there,” Hans chuckled.
The car pulled through the service gates onto the palace grounds and parked in a hidden spot behind a short wall. Jon and I got out and made our way into the royal residential wing.
“Sorry about this,” I said again to my favorite guard. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep over there—truly.”
“One of these days your cock is going to fall off from skank rot.” He sniffed and looked down his nose at me as if he was the royal one.
“I’m safe,” I said. “And more often than not, I only fuck Iggy as you well know.” I was talking to myself more than anything. “I’ve known him since we were fourteen. I trust him with the royal scepter.”
Jon ignored the stupid joke and continued his lecture. “Maybe you should stop this hooking up bullshit and find someone. A nice man or woman you can build a life with.”
I stared at him like he was insane. “Yeah, right. A man. As if.”
He shrugged. “Sir, the prime minister of Luxem—”
“Save it,” I interrupted. “I know all about Xavier and Gauthier. That’s not the same thing as hereditary royalty, and we both know it. If the next heir to the throne married a man instead of a woman, my grandfather would roll over in his grave along with every monarch before him for a thousand years.”
“So, what are you going to do? Continue to sneak to Ignatius’s flat when you’re a fifty-year-old king?”
I felt my head begin to pound near my temple. It was a subject I’d considered ad nauseam for years. “No. I plan on finding a good woman to settle down with. Someone worthy of being the queen when the time comes. But right now, I’m going to sleep and hopefully not think about it for a few long years since my father is healthier than most men half his age. Good night.”
“See you in the morning, sir,” he said, holding open the door to the wing holding my private quarters.
Once in my apartment in the palace, I saw my valet sitting at the kitchen table in his button-up pajamas and bathrobe.
“Sir,” he sighed. “Don’t even tell me. I can smell the club smoke from here.”
“Arthur, what are you doing up? I hope you weren’t waiting for me. It’s late.”
“You don’t want to hear about what happens to your body when you get older,” he grumbled. His hands were wrapped around a mug I knew contained chamomile tea.
“You’re forty for god’s sake.”
“When I see you drag your scraggly ass in from a romp in the Ignatius hay, I feel ten times older.”
I kicked off my shoes and reached into the refrigerator for some water. “You’re just jealous. He asked about you again, you know.”
Arthur’s eyes shot up. “Who did?”
“Iggy.”
Despite his formal posture, Arthur blushed from his collar up to his hairline. “Dear god, you must be insane.”
I shrugged. “He’s had a crush on you since we were at Hotchkiss, and you know it.”
“Pfft. I wouldn’t go near that disease-ridden play—”
“He’s one of my closest friends,” I warned. “And he’s never had sex without a condom in all these years. You know I wouldn’t go there otherwise.”
His nostrils flared before lifting into the air. “And you think I need your sloppy seconds? I may not be a royal, but I can pull as well as the next guy.”
In almost fifteen years of being in service to me, I’d never once seen Arthur with a man. I’d heard rumors, of course. He’d dated a man named Paul for a few years, and when it ended, he hadn’t been able to hide his sadness. It had happened not long after Grandpa passed away, and the two of us had bonded over our respective grief: Arthur for the loss of his love and me for the loss of my beloved role model. Arthur had been more than a valet ever since. He was almost a substitute for the warm, easy relationship I’d had with Grandpa.
I bid Arthur goodnight and retreated to my bedroom where I collapsed on my bed and fell into a deep sleep. Two hours later he was back, shaking me out of my dreams.
Before I could protest he said, “It’s your father.”
I bolted upright, alarm bells ringing in my head. Immediately I remembered a similar morning fifteen years ago when I’d woken to the news of my Grandpa’s death. I grabbed Arthur’s arm.
“He’s okay,” Arthur quickly reassured me. “He was experiencing chest pains but the doctor examined him thoroughly and is certain it was merely a panic attack.”
I placed a hand over my thundering heart. “Thank goodness.”
“He’d like to see you.”
“The doctor?”
“Your father. He’s summoned you to his room, and you know better than to keep the king waiting.”
My head started to pound again.
Half an hour later I made my way through the bowels of the palace to a specially designed medical bay in the basement. My father had it built years before so the royal family could get treatment without tipping off the paparazzi.
When I arrived, I found my father arguing with his doctor.
“I can’t do this anymore,” my father mumbled down toward the front of his thin examination gown. “I won’t.”
“You’re fine, Father. You’ll be back on your feet tomorrow with meds that’ll fix you right up,” I suggested. “Maybe you’re just too stressed.”
Truth be told, inside I felt nothing but a giant sigh of relief at the situation. Thank god it wasn’t something more serious. As selfish as it may have been, I was grateful I didn’t have to take his place so soon. I wasn’t sure who had been scared worse by the situation—my father or me.
As I caught my mother’s eyes across the bed, I noticed a slight shake of her head. She didn’t look scared so much as… disappointed.
“Maybe it’s time, Lior,” she murmured to my father. “Tell him.”
“This is neither the time nor place, Catherine,” he asserted, taking on the persona of strength I was more used to seeing.
My mother looked at me with a kind of sympathetic sadness. “It’s time you prepare yourself to take the throne, darling.”
I stared at her in disbelief. “It was just a panic attack,” I protested. “Lots of people get them.”
“He’s going to step down,” she said quietly. We were the only people in the room, but even so, the news was shocking coming from her mouth. I glanced toward the hallway to make sure no one could have overheard.
“No,” I said.
“Son,” my father began, “she’s right.”
“No,” I repeated, feeling my heart begin to stutter in my chest. “No. You’re fine. It was just a—”
My mother shook her head. “He had a panic attack when he told me he was divorcing me. He’s in love with someone else.”
The words, spoken by my strong and beautiful mother, almost shattered me.
I stared at them both in stunned silence as my brain struggled to process this information. “You can’t.” This time it was a childish sound. A plea—a whine even. I wasn’t a prince worried about his father stepping down from the throne, but a son blindsided by the news of his parents divorcing. “Please.” A whisper.
Neither of them seemed moved by my protest. Their minds were made up. I s
pun on my father. “Who?” I demanded. As if it mattered. “Who the fuck is worth losing my mother for? Who is worth throwing away the monarchy for? A thousand years of your family on that throne and you walk away for a side piece of ass?” Anger heated and popped beneath my skin, leaving me restless and itchy. It was selfish, I knew. Every single bit of my reaction came from a desperate, almost manic, desire to keep my life from changing so drastically.
My father answered in a monotone. “Eleanor Wu. And I’ll not have you speak of her that way.”
My mouth hung open as I stared between my parents to see if he could possibly be telling me the truth. Mother’s eyes closed with a wince, confirming it.
Eleanor Wu was my age. The grown daughter of my mother’s best friend.
My father, the king of Liorland, cheating on his wife with a twenty-nine-year-old flight attendant. For fuck’s sake, how did something like that even come about?
But it didn’t much matter now. The result was the same regardless of who he was fucking. My father would be forced to abdicate the throne in disgrace once word got out. And word always got out. There was nothing to be done about it.
Then I would take his place. Become the true monarch of Liorland along with all of the duties and expectations therein. As well as the scrutiny. The press would be all over me, poking into every aspect of my life. Any small amount of freedom I’d enjoyed as prince would be over.
I would be the new king.
I staggered back and collapsed in a chair by the door. I was twenty-nine—mature enough to realize my Iggy-fucking days were over. Hell, my days even thinking about sex with men were over. There was no way in hell the monarchy could survive two such scandals. Suddenly I was being forced to make the tough decisions I’d been punting all my life. My parents had been pressuring me to choose a wife and settle down, to prepare for the stable life I’d need to have when it was my turn on the throne.