Felix and the Prince Read online

  Stepping onto the island was like exhaling for the first time in months. The bite of the salty air, the gray-green chop of the North Sea all around us, the whip of the wind against my clothes, and the crumbly stone outline of the keep in the distance all came together to make me feel like I’d finally arrived home.

  Thank fuck, I thought to myself as my shoulders relaxed. Since Gadleigh sat on an island, there were no paparazzi, no hidden media cameras, and no meddling family members popping in without prior notice.

  It was heaven on earth, and I planned to make the most of it for the next couple of weeks. Too bad I hadn’t been able to sneak Iggy away for a last hurrah. But this was a time for coming to terms with a life that would never be mine— having the throne while still being able to enjoy a man in my bed.

  I was at Gadleigh to let go of the daydream. It was a shame I didn’t have a warm body to sink into while doing it.

  “Good afternoon, sir.” A familiar face came into view, stepping out of the shelter of the vehicle and approaching me with a hand outstretched.

  “Bert, great to see you. How is your family?” I asked with a grin.

  “Mari has all but ignored me in favor of you, sir, as well you know. I’ve gone half-starved these few days since word of your arrival hit her ears. Now that you’re here, maybe she’ll allow me some scraps from your table.”

  I couldn’t hold back the laugh that bubbled up from my chest, and we shared more barbs back and forth as the luggage was loaded. Arthur scurried around, making sure I had my coat and scarf, making sure the luggage was treated with proper respect, and making sure to scowl at the wind coming off the sea as if it was downright offensive. He fussed at Bert as if the man had never picked me up from the tiny airport before. I caught Bert’s eye and winked at him.

  Gadleigh’s house manager had been with our family since he’d been an under butler in the central palace. Once he was experienced enough to take charge of a royal estate, he’d requested consideration for Gadleigh. Since then, he and his wife, Mari, had made a home here and had cared for the island and its people as if they were their own.

  Once we made our way through the small village and onto the estate grounds, Mari was waiting outside one of the castle’s side doors with a comforting squeeze.

  “Och, my Lior,” she tutted. “You’re a sight for sore eyes. Come to the kitchens, and I’ll make you some chocolate by the fire. Arthur, stop fussing and sit your arse down.”

  I followed her through the stone entry, noting with relief that absolutely nothing had changed since I’d last been there a couple of summers before. Once we were in the huge open space of the main kitchen, I gravitated toward the set of rocking chairs bracketing the massive fireplace.

  “It’s good to be home,” I told her holding out my hands for warmth from the flames. “But I forgot how cold it is here in December.”

  “Pfft,” she scoffed. “Nothing but a fact to get yourself used to.”

  “Mother said to tell you hello,” I told her over my shoulder. “She knew right away where I was running off to after… everything.” So far, the official story of why the king had cancelled some public events, was his suffering from exhaustion. No doubt his publicist was hoping that story would imply what a hardworking ruler he was, always looking out for the people of Liorland.

  Just the thought made me want to roll my eyes. Selfish fucking prick.

  “Of course she did. A mother knows her son.” I heard her gathering the ingredients for the warm chocolate drink she always made me, and I wasn’t surprised when a plate of homemade stroopwafels appeared in front of me.

  “Oh god,” I groaned, grabbing one and biting into it. “You’re the best.” The caramel-flavored sugar wafer was light and crisp on my tongue. I settled into the seat by the fire, enjoying the hot drink and sweets. When I was done, I peered over at Mari, who’d taken the other chair beside me.

  “How are Calum and the glassworks?”

  Her face softened. I knew she treated the island’s master glassblower as a son the same way she did me.

  “He’s fine, yeah. Been working hard on the ornaments line, but that’s all slowed down now this close to Christmas. I expect it’ll be nice for him to take it easy for a couple of weeks now. Maybe he can show you a thing or two if you’re here for a while, but you’ll have to ask him. He’s got a man here now.”

  I thought of the forty-five-year-old artisan who was as gruff and impenetrable as the north wind. “A man? What kind of man?”

  She chuckled and turned to me with a look of slight embarrassment. “No, Lior. Not that kind of man. Holy hell, boy. I only meant a student of sorts. Someone studying the glass. The man is here for a couple of weeks, and Calum has taken him on. A cute one, that. Name of Felix. He’s American, like your mother.”

  “Where’s he staying?” I asked. Unease began to swirl in my gut as I thought about an unknown person on the island during my holiday from real life.

  “Shh, calm yourself. The kid is as quiet and timid as a mouse, you’ll see. Nothing to fear there. He’s staying in the carriage house apartment, only comes into the main house to study the glass, you know? And to share a meal if there’s one to be had.”

  I let out a breath. “Okay, good.”

  Later, as I made my way through the quiet hall toward the royal wing of the house where my bedroom lay, I thought about how much I wished I could simply hide away at Gadleigh forever. I couldn’t, of course, but the idea of hiding took root, reminding me of my favorite nook in the castle.

  After accompanying Arthur to my room and leaving him to unpack, I stepped to a panel in the side of the wide archway leading to my bathroom. The bathroom had originally been an antechamber of sorts, but when my great-grandfather had visited Gadleigh on a tour of his royal estates in the early twentieth century, he had demanded the royal apartments all be outfitted with the most modern water facilities of the time. The result was fewer rooms in the royal wings but grandiose washrooms for each bedroom. There wasn’t a visit I made to Gadleigh Castle when I didn’t thank my ancestor for his thoughtful upgrades.

  I pushed the panel sideways until the open space was wide enough for me to fit through. Once in the space between the walls, I slid the panel back in place. It wasn’t necessary to sneak to my hidden study, of course. But it was a habit born of years of trying to avoid nannies and tutors.

  I made my way carefully through the cobwebbed corridors, down a simple and overly narrow spiral staircase, and into a cozy secret room I’d always referred to as the treasury. The space was clean, and wood for a fire was set and ready for me in the small fireplace. Once I started the kindling with a box of long matches on the mantel, I settled back in the overstuffed chair tucked in the corner nearest the warmth of the early flames. As the fire grew higher, the light began to catch the colored glass around the room as hundreds of years of Gadleigh glass baubles spun and sparkled from where they hung along the low, wooden-paneled ceiling.

  If Gadleigh Castle was, in some way, the love of my life, the treasury room was its very heart.

  Chapter 4

  Felix

  I’d scheduled my trip to include a few days in Edinburgh to explore the St. Giles Cathedral. I thought the famous Burne-Jones window was impressive, but it was nothing like what awaited me at Gadleigh.

  In a word, the glass at Gadleigh was breathtaking. Even after three days on the island my head was still spinning. I just couldn’t believe I was actually here, surrounded by the infamous stained glass I’d been studying for years. It was both wonderful and overwhelming.

  The caretaker, Mari, had taken pity on me the day before and taken me under her wing, feeding me breakfast while indulging my questions about the castle and its history.

  I learned that the castle had a total of four hundred and forty-four rooms, and starting today I intended to explore them all.

  It was harder than I expected, especially given how many rooms contained glassworks that I couldn’t resist taking my time to exam
ine. There were hidden gems among the antique furnishings in almost every room I came across. I’d barely even scratched the surface by the time the sun began to sink into the sea hours later.

  Warm bands of orange and yellow light filtered through the large, clear leaded glass panes of the room I was in. It was a small formal salon, with red textured wallpaper on all four walls and gilt-edged furniture organized in a central social cluster. Red and gold curtains hung heavy from large dowels, and thick, silky ropes held them back with long tassels.

  I watched the sun drag its stripes across the wooden floor and noticed the inlaid design in the center of the room beneath a dainty coffee table. As I edged carefully around it, I realized it was a crest of sorts. A lion with a large mane featured prominently in the center, and it wore a crown. The jewels of the crown were bits of colored glass, and I heard my own gasp escape as I noticed the colors sparkling in the fading sun.

  This was why I’d come. Gadleigh Castle was a treasure trove of hidden stained glass. It was everywhere. A master artisan had spent decades lovingly adding glass flourishes all over the estate back in the sixteenth century.

  Up till now, the identity of the glassmaker had been unknown, but I had my suspicions. This was the subject of my dissertation and why I was here. To find the proof I needed to unmask the master artisan to the world.

  After several minutes of exploring the small room with my eyes, I knelt down on my hands and knees and ran my fingers over the glass jewels embedded in the floor. There wasn’t a speck of dust to be found on them, and I marveled at how lovingly the glass on the estate was cared for. It was Gadleigh’s treasure, and someone recognized how special it was.

  As I studied the inlaid baubles, my knee slipped on the waxed floor, causing me to lean too heavily on my outstretched hand. The stained glass jewel under my fingers depressed farther into the floor, and I gasped, terrified I’d caused some sort of damage.

  I sat back on my heels immediately and stared at the glass piece as it remained a full inch lower in the floor than it had been originally.

  Jesus Christ. I had just wrecked a five-hundred-year-old masterpiece.

  I felt my entire body begin to tremble in shame. How the hell was I going to make this right? Would Calum, the resident glass master, be able to fix it somehow? Would it require work underneath the elaborate wooden flooring? Would it demand some special team of art history preservation experts?

  My heart hammered in my chest as I scooted back to get some distance from the elaborate inlaid design before fucking things up even more.

  “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” I stammered under my breath as I tried to calm myself down. I reached behind to steady myself against the wall, only to feel it move under my touch. Good god, was I going mad? Had I just destroyed another part of this historic room?

  I turned to see what the hell was going on and noticed a six-inch-wide gap in the red-papered wall. Through the gap, I could see the hint of a soft warm glow of light.

  I’d spent enough time in the room to know there hadn’t been a door there before. All four walls had been solid with the exception of the door I’d entered through. I glanced back at the glass button on the floor. Could it have been some sort of hidden button?

  I carefully slid the panel in the wall closed again, hearing the faintest click as it settled back in place, becoming invisible again as the edges of the panel disappeared in the texture of the wallpaper’s natural lines and creases.

  After gathering up my courage, I peered back at the stained glass in the lion’s crown. All of the glass pieces were level with the floor once more.

  Woah.

  I crawled forward to touch the glass again, pressing down as gently as I could until I felt the button give.

  Sure enough, the panel in the wall slid open a few inches.

  A hidden room in Gadleigh Castle. Hot fucking damn.

  I stood and approached the narrow opening, careful to ease it farther open as gently and quietly as I could. I wondered idly if I was doing something illegal or off-limits. Mari had told me I had the run of the house excluding the royal wing of bedrooms, but did that include hidden passages and rooms?

  God, I hoped so.

  I glanced through the opening and saw colored bands of light fading in and out across a simple set of bookshelves. Before I knew it, I’d taken a few steps into the room to investigate what was making the light reflect in those familiar colors. I’d only walked partway into the little hidden study when I noticed them.

  Hundreds of colorful glass balls hung from the low ceiling. They twisted slowly in the glow from the setting sun coming in through the clear, leaded-glass windows. What hidden room had windows to the outside, and how was it possible I’d never seen these particular ones from the gardens surrounding the house? They were uniquely round and set in elaborate wooden frames with decorative carvings.

  The room was magnificent. A hideaway rich with moving glass in every imaginable color. I sucked in a breath and stared in awe at the pieces I’d never in a million years expected to find.

  It wasn’t until I noticed some of the light in the room was coming from a crackling fire in a stone fireplace that I realized I wasn’t alone.

  Chapter 5

  Lio

  I’d been dozing in the comfortable chair by the fire when a slight draft brushed across my neck. I opened my eyes just wide enough to confirm the windows were closed before letting myself drift off again. Not a moment later, the draft grew stronger.

  It was the doorway to the State Salon letting in the cooler air of the castle, and I didn’t need to wonder how it had opened.

  A man stood just inside the open panel and stared in wonder at the treasury glass.

  He was slender and young—possibly midtwenties at the most—dark-haired with round tortoiseshell glasses, and cute as hell. Whoever he was, the man was clearly mesmerized by the Gadleigh glass on display in the room. His sudden intake of breath, the pink flush of his cheeks, and the slow rise of his fingers to his lips all came together to make my heart thump. There was something about him that stopped me from calling out to tell him I was there.

  I wanted to watch him for another moment before he realized he wasn’t alone. Once he saw who I was, he was bound to get all weird around me, and I hoped to put that off as long as possible.

  He took another tentative step into the room and glanced across the small space to the round windows beyond. His eyes seemed to take in the craftsmanship of the carvings on the lintel, and his hand came out as if to run fingers over the wood. Something must have alerted him to my presence in the room, however, because he turned and noticed the fire in the fireplace and me sitting in a chair next to it.

  “Oh god!” he cried, jumping back and knocking over a small side table behind him. “Oh fuck!” He scrambled to right the table and began babbling apologies.

  “I’m so sorry. Oh god, I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean… I, uh, I was startled by your… and… oh shit.” His anguished tone made me want to either laugh or wrap him up in my arms and reassure him it was okay.

  His hands seemed to shake, and his breath sped up. He held his arms in front of him like a shield, as if I was going to come at him.

  “I’m so sorry,” he whispered before stepping sideways toward the State Salon again. “I’ll just go.”

  “Wait,” I said. The man froze. “I don’t even know who you are.”

  His eyes widened as he stared back at me, all the color leaching from his face. “Felix. Felix…” It was as if he was going to tell me his last name but thought better of it at the last moment.

  “Come here, Felix Felix,” I said, unable to stop from teasing the man. “It’s okay. Nothing’s broken. Relax.”

  He was wound up as tight as a top.

  “I shouldn’t have intruded on your privacy. I was admiring the glass in the floor and accidentally pushed the jewel.”

  Ah, now I understood. I felt my face relax into a grin.

  “And were you surprised or frea
ked-out when the wall opened?”

  “Um, both? And terrified?” he admitted with a small chuckle. “I thought for sure I’d broken a five-hundred-year-old masterpiece. I wasn’t quite sure how I was going to explain it to Mari.”

  His face retained the blush, but it was nice to see his lips relax into a slight grin. As much as it shamed me to admit, my first thought at the sight of those lips hadn’t been pure. Those are dick-sucking lips. Red, full, luscious… biteable.

  I swallowed. “She’d skin you alive,” I assured him. “Good thing you didn’t actually break it.”

  His horror returned, and I noticed his Adam’s apple raise and lower with a gulp.

  “I’m kidding, Felix,” I said softly. “Why don’t you have a seat and warm up? If you were on your hands and knees in the State Salon, you could probably use a moment by the fire. It’s pretty drafty in there.”

  My words replayed on a loop in my head, getting dirtier with every echo. Just the thought of him on his hands and knees mere feet away from where I sat sent all kind of blood rushing south.

  Dammit, this was exactly what I’d run off to Gadleigh to get over: my attraction to men. The whole purpose of coming here was to man the fuck up and figure my shit out. And avoid being recognized. So why the hell had I asked this random stranger to join me in my hiding spot?

  A faint reminder of my wish to have thinking time and sexy time whispered through my thoughts. Hmm, it was enough to get my mind racing.

  Felix’s dark eyes glanced at the chair next to mine. “Are you sure? It does feel good in here. Nice and warm. And the glass… it’s exquisite.”

  I held out my hand to gesture for him to take the seat while I stood up to slide the panel to the salon closed again to help trap the heat in the small room. Once he settled in the chair, I noticed him let out a breath. “Thanks,” he murmured, holding out his hands to the flames. His fingers were long and slim, and I couldn’t help but imagine what they’d feel like skating over my skin.