Royal Wager #3: Royal Wager, #3

By Renna Peak and Ember Casey

When temptation proves too much to bear…

 

Everything comes down to this. And now Benedict faces the ultimate choice: the future he's always wanted or the American girl he just can't resist.

 

The ultimate royal wager is coming to an end…but is the prize worth the cost?

 

This is the final episode in the Royal Wager series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Casey Peak Publishing, LLC
• Release date: Mar 31, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393399889

Book preview

Benedict

The past few days have flown by. I’m not certain how, but somehow, I’ve managed to keep any more of the lessons from taking place, not that Quinn ever needed lessons on how to pleasure me at all. There have been a few close calls, to be sure, but Quinn has mostly been all too willing to assist with preparing for my cousins’ arrival. Even with the prize of Wilderly Springs and the title that goes with it on the line, my brother and I have barely even given each other a second glance. Thankfully, with the majority of the royal family about to arrive, all thoughts of our wager have been pushed to the side for the time being.

But now that we’re standing in the receiving line outside my home, I can’t imagine how I’m going to get around these so-called lessons now. Quinn deserves to know the truth—I just can’t tell her anything about the wager. At least, not yet.

You’re sure this is okay? she whispers to me as she smooths the front of her dress. I feel like I’m not formal enough.

You look beautiful, I reply. And this isn’t a formal occasion, I remind her.

She lifts a brow, shaking her head. It’s the royal family, she whispers. "Everything is a formal occasion."

I try not to roll my eyes, but I’m sure she can see my amusement. Perhaps she’s forgotten that I’m every bit as much part of the royal family as the circus that is about to arrive.

But I don’t have time to share any of my thoughts. A line of black sedans, all bearing the purple and gold Montovian crest on the doors, pulls up to us.

Quinn stiffens beside me. I wish I could slide my arm around her waist to soothe her, but it would be a terrible breach of protocol. Besides, my father is watching the two of us from the corner of his eye—I can feel it from here, though we’re at the end of the line and he’s at the front.

Much as our receiving line is in age order, the arrivals in the cars are, too. The first to exit are Leopold and Elle. I’m not sure what it is about Leo these days, but he certainly has changed from only a few years ago when he would accompany my brothers and me on the most…raucous of adventures.

Next, Princess Sophia and her new husband Pax leave their car and begin down the receiving line.

Oh my God, Quinn whispers. "That’s Pax Donovan]. I totally forgot they were together." She audibly gulps.

I hate that I can’t do so much as reach down to squeeze her hand.

Last to leave their car is Prince Nicholas and Clara. Nick and I are certainly the closest of all my cousins, though I can’t say we’ve had the best relationship in the past year or so. It doesn’t seem too long ago that my brothers and I were playing pranks on him. In fact, it wasn’t too long ago at all.

That issue seems to still be on my cousin’s mind—he glares at me the moment he makes eye contact from across the driveway.

My cousins Andrew and Victoria are set to arrive tomorrow. I’m sure his late arrival has something to do with being heir to the throne, but one can never really be certain with him. William and his wife Justine, the Queen of Rosvalia, will arrive in a few days brining the whole lot of the family together.

As we receive each guest in turn, a thought comes to me. Though Nicholas and I might still not be on the greatest of terms, even he knows that the mastermind of all—well, certainly most—of our pranks is Caspar.

Quinn seems to relax a little as she greets each of each of the guests. She even remembers to give a small curtsy to each of the royal cousins, though Sophia laughs when she does.

"Please don’t feel like you need to curtsy to me. Ever. My cousin gives her one of her famous giggles before she pulls Quinn into a hug. We’re going to get along just fine."

Quinn’s eyes look as though they might bulge from her head, which probably isn’t helped when Pax is next to greet her.

He nods at her. Don’t mind my wife. She can be a little much.

Sophia elbows him in the ribs, and Pax pretends to double over in pain.

See? Sophia says. There’s nothing special about us at all.

Quinn’s shoulders finally drop, and I can see a genuine smile on her face. Though it seems she’s still not able to speak, she gives them both a polite nod.

It’s terrible protocol—and I can only hope my father is too busy greeting someone to notice—but I reach down and give her hand a quick squeeze before I let it go.

She turns to me with a smile, and we next greet Clara, Nick’s wife.

Clara lifts a brow at me before extending her hand. Lovely to see you again, Benedict.

The pleasure is mine, I reply before lifting her hand to my lips. I could not be happier for you and my cousin.

Right, Nicholas grumbles beside her, swatting my hand from hers. He eyes me for a moment before extending his own hand for me to shake.

I take it, and I lean in closer to him. I don’t suppose you could meet me in the game room once these greetings have concluded?

His gaze narrows for a moment, and then he shrugs, pulling his hand from mine. He nods a second later before moving to greet Quinn.

As we move into the house, I don’t need to find a reason to part from Quinn. Sophia seems to have taken a liking to her, pulling her and Clara into one of the sitting rooms so they can get to know Quinn better.

I could kiss my cousin Sophia—she has no idea how much her usual interference is helping me at the moment.

I find my way to the game room, and thankfully, only Nicholas is there. Part of me wondered if my brothers might retire here as well—our visits from our cousins tend to make the three of us want to hide. If not for the circus atmosphere their visits create, then at least to find some solace from the tension my father always seems to have about these meetings.

I pour a glass of brandy, offering it to Nicholas, but he shakes his head.

What do you want from me, Benedict? His tone is condescending. I suppose I should expect nothing less, particularly after the pranks I’ve so recently played upon him.

First, let me apologize for my and my brother’s behavior the last time you were here in Wintervale, I say before taking a swig of my drink. Second, let me say how glad I am that you are able to attend this year’s festivities.

Nicholas rolls his eyes. Get on with it, Cousin, he says. Believe me, I’d rather be anywhere but here. My mother thought it would be… He clears his throat. "Delightful if we could have an entire family reunion here at the Festival."

And a wonderful idea it was, I say, trying to be as charming as possible.

You know that doesn’t work on me, right? Nicholas says, seeming to read my mind. Just get on with it. What do you want?

I need your help, I say. I’m sure my cousin can hear the pleading in my voice.

Why would I ever help you? Nicholas rolls his eyes again before he turns to the bar and pours himself a glass of water.

I down what’s left in my glass before pouring myself another rather large portion of the brandy. I take another swig before turning again to my cousin. Because, I say. I can make it worth your while.

He lifts an amused brow but doesn’t have a chance to respond. My heart almost explodes from my chest when the door swings open, and in walks Quinn.

Quinn

You’d think, that after spending a fair bit of time around Benedict and his family, that I’d get used to the whole royal thing. But the moment I see Prince Nicholas in front of me, I turn into a complete idiot.

"I…er, my…your highness." I practically fall into a curtsy, then have to reach out and grab the edge of the billiards table to keep from collapsing onto my face. Both of them look at me like I’m drunk or something.

I didn’t mean to interrupt, I tell them. I was just looking for Benedict to… To what? Suddenly I can’t remember. Oh—wait! I just wanted to let you know my mom is doing better. And quite eager to get me back into Benedict’s arms. She had a bout of dizziness before the royals arrived this morning, and Benedict insisted on sending the family physician to her. I fiddle with my dress, cheeks warming as I remember the helpful suggestions my mom gave me before practically shoving me out the door to go thank our gracious host.

Glad to hear it, Benedict says. He looks almost as awkward as I feel, which is saying something. I was just having a few words with my cousin Nicholas.

Nicholas, like most members of this family, is wildly attractive. And he has the blue eyes that all of them seem to share—though his are a few shades lighter than Benedict’s.

I didn’t mean to interrupt. I give another awkward curtsy. Your highness. Pleased to meet you again.

Same. Nicholas clears his throat. I’ve heard a lot about you.

You have? I glance at Benedict, my face going even hotter. What have you been saying?

Nothing, Benedict replies casually, and it’s very obvious he has been saying something. Probably quite a bit of something.

But I know that trying to pry it out of him here is unlikely to do me any good. So instead, I turn my attention back to Nicholas.

You’re the one with the ranch out in Montana, aren’t you?

Yes, that would be me. There’s a slight tension in his voice, almost like he’s bracing himself for an interrogation. I imagine any prince who went so far as to hide his identity and buy land on the other side of the world is probably exactly the sort who doesn’t like to answer questions about his life. Fortunately, I have no intention of trying to wrangle information out of him.

You must know a lot about horses, then, I say cheerfully. You know, I almost got run down by a horse on my first day here. Maybe you can give Benedict a few pointers.

To my delight, the stern, serious Nicholas breaks into a grin, and for a moment I think he might actually laugh.

Benedict, on the other hand, looks slightly less than amused.

I should get you and my wife together, Prince Nicholas tells me. I think you and Clara might get along.

But Benedict shakes his head. I think maybe it would be better to keep the two of them apart.

Why? I ask. I just left Clara and Princess Sophia, and both were wonderfully friendly and sweet to me.

Prince Nicholas’s grin has gone even wider. What’s the matter, cousin? Afraid the pair of them will gang up on you?

No, Benedict insists. "I’m not afraid of Quinn. Or of Clara. I just don’t trust you."

Oh really? Then why were you trying to get me to help you just a moment ago?

Help you? I ask. With what? I look at Benedict again, but he’s already trying to lead me toward the door. What do you need help with?

It’s just a little royal business.

Oh, please. You’re a terrible liar.

She’s right, Nicholas echoes.

Benedict makes an exasperated sound and yanks a hand through his red-brown hair. It’s just a small, personal matter—

You’re keeping secrets from Quinn? Nicholas clucks his tongue. I don’t profess to be an expert on women, but trust me, Benedict, I’ve learned the hard way that that’s a bad idea.

"It’s not a