She moaned and gasped in response, each sound punctuated by a small tremor, each one unique, never repeated and utterly intoxicating.
He was harder than he’d ever been in his life, and she had no idea of the sweet misery she was causing in him. She was lost in the storm, and just as he directed, mindless to his agony of wanting her.
And if it hurt, it felt that much sweeter to have her melting in his hands, this powerful woman completely his to do with what he wanted, an amazon, unconquerable but for him. He traced her soft outer lips, running his fingertips along her slightly parted, slick, opening with smooth caresses. She pressed her hips against his hand, instinctively grinding against him as he teased the sensitive bud at the top. He slid a long finger between her swollen lips and along the inner edges of her opening, and she cried out his name.
He let out a low growl, the sound rumbling up from the place inside of him that knew he would never, ever let another even try for.
The thought became the voice inside demanding he claim her, make her his irrevocably. Her body trembled, the tremors racking through her telling him all he needed to know about how close she was the edge.
In truth, they had not even begun the feast there was to be had between their bodies. If anything, this sweet heaven—the melody of her moans, her taste electric on his tongue—was merely the first of a long train of delectable experiences that were to be experienced with her. And if he got too carried away with the images flashing through his mind, they were going to carry him away to bingeing rather than savoring. They would have time for all of it.
It was his pleasure to be both for her—the anchor that held her there, safe, protected, guided through unknown waters, as well as the gale force that swept her away, the hurricane that broke her apart and remade her.
But if he remade her, she, too, ripped him apart and put him back together as she wanted him—devoted and unable to ever deny her, he would spend the rest of his life reminding her of that fact.
Later, after they’d exhausted their bodies and he’d fed her and they’d sat together at the helm, beneath stars that were vast enough to swallow even the greatest distrust, companionable in a way he’d never experienced with anyone else, he looked into the eyes of the daughter of his greatest enemy and said the words he once had such a hard time admitting.
“I love you.”
And the joy in her face was like the sunrise, though dawn was still hours away.
EPILOGUE
IT HAD BEEN one month since Hel and Drake had relocated back to Cyrano. Nya had decided to remain in Calla, having spent most of her life in Sidra.
Tierrza was no more. As they’d plotted, Hel and Drake, with the help of the King and Queen of Cyrano, had unified their titles and lands under the name Andros and relocated the seat of the duchy to the port that Drake knew like the back of his hand.
With Hel on enforced maternity leave—enforced by Seraphina, Mina, Zayn and Drake—the queen had returned to the summer palace, temporarily relocating until her security situation was resolved. She insisted it was for the best, as it gave her and Roz the undisturbed time they needed to plan a wedding that was to go down in Cyrano’s history books.
As Hel had suspected, when she finally tracked down Moustafa, she learned her friend had returned home to her family. It continued to be shockingly hard to gather details about what had happened with Jenna in her absence, but she and Drake would be making the trip out to the Moustafa farm to find out once and for all in a matter of days.
She had a great deal to catch up her partner on.
Prior to returning to the summer palace, the queen had made the suggestion to offer Drake a position in the national security council of Cyrano as a naval security adviser. Hel was ecstatic when Drake accepted the position, ensuring that, after the baby was born, she would indeed be able to return to her position as the captain of the royal queen’s guard.
And for the first time since the event had begun, after sitting down together, Drake, Hel and Seraphina had decided to retire the annual Dominic d’Tierrza gala, conceiving of a new event and charity named the Ibrahim Andros Foundation.
Hand in hand with her husband, assured by her doctor that there was an end to morning sickness in sight, and free from her father’s ghost for the first time since before he’d even died, Helene finally threw in the towel.
Together, they’d beaten him, and now they had the rest of their lives, free to enjoy, happily ever after, together.
Ways to Ruin a Royal Reputation
Dani Collins
To my fellow authors in this trilogy,
Clare Connelly and Tara Pammi.
Writing is a strange beast, and can be lonely at times,
but when a fun project like this one comes along,
it reminds me I have water-cooler colleagues
who know exactly how my work day is going.
I can’t wait until we can get together
to celebrate these books in person!
CHAPTER ONE
“RUIN ME.”
Amy Miller blinked, certain she’d misheard Luca Albizzi, the king of Vallia.
She’d been reeling since she’d walked into this VIP suite in London’s toniest hotel and discovered who her potential client would be.
Her arrival here had been conducted under a cloak of mystery. A call had had her assistant frowning with perplexity as she relayed the request that Amy turn up for an immediate consultation, now or never.
Given the address, Amy had been confident it was worth pandering to the vague yet imperious invitation. It wasn’t unheard-of for managers
