Royally Screwed Part 4

"You think I'm superficial?" He laid down the paper and leaned forward to look at her, eyes dancing. She was momentarily distracted by the sight of all those muscles so she wasn't any better.

"Anyone who sleeps with people they barely know must be."

"Well at least I have good company then," he said with that wolfish grin she couldn't quite ignore. "No comeback?" he asked, a bit startled when she didn't say anything.

She shrugged a shoulder and gave him an intriguing stare. He was right of course she may not have done it as often or as shamelessly but she had done it. She wasn't sure how she felt about crossing that line but she couldn't deny that she'd enjoyed every moment of their time together. She ran a hand through her hair in distraction and brushed against the scar, her soul bristling.

"You owe me a shirt," she fired back after a bite of toast.

"Among other things," he whispered, looking away.

Kat opened her mouth to ask what he meant by that but he shushed her to silence before she'd even gotten a word out. "Do you hear that?" he asked. They listened. And sure enough, there was a bell ringing, almost like a doorbell, becoming more shrill and insistent the longer it went.

"Where's that coming from?" she asked, looking around the room. She padded away to go check the door to the suite while Sebastian walked around, looking a little like a bloodhound trying to capture the scent of a fox. Kat peeked out the doorway, forgetting for a moment that she was barely clothed. A maid was walking by and gave her an unamused once over before averting her eyes and continuing onward. And then it hit her she had become that girl, hadn't she?

"Found it," Sebastian called. She turned to see him waking a laptop from sleep. The web cam light was blinking.

"Do not tell me that was on last night." She wound her hair into a hasty knot on the top of her head.

"No," he said, giving her a look somewhere between amused and offended. "This isn't mine. I may be a lot of things but voyeuristic isn't one of them." She felt a little guilty at the accusation, and the shadow it put into his eyes, and fidgeted slightly.

"So sorry I don't have more faith in you. Fifteen hours is just a lifetime," she sa.s.sed, a bit cross. He smiled at her as she folded her arms over her chest and walked away. "I'm getting dressed."

"Fine," he yelled after her. He brought the laptop over to the breakfast table with him and cleared a spot for it next to the paper before turning his attention back to the computer screen. The bell was still ringing, demanding attention from someone on the other line. He recognized it now as the Sezynian national anthem, somewhat shrilly. It looked like Sergei was getting an incoming call. This should be good. And it would be rude to ignore it, wouldn't it? He clicked accept.

"Sergei, finally. I don't like to be kept waiting," a gruff male voice said, an air of authority about it.

"Gee, sorry Father. If only I'd known." Sebastian liked seeing the surprise in his father's eyes. He didn't catch His Royal Highness off guard often. The only look he was ever given was one of mild condescension so he took great pleasure in getting anything different out of him, no matter what it was.

He wanted to laugh here was Viktor Petrescu expecting Sergei and instead he got the Royal Disappointment, half naked, quite a bit disheveled. If only Kat hadn't walked away, what a glorious little show they could have put on for him. "Is there something I can do for you?" he inquired mildly, shifting his attention to breakfast as if he had much more important things to do than talk to the King.

"Where's Sergei?"

Sebastian shrugged. "Next door probably. We switched rooms last night."

"And why is that?" his father asked.

"I wanted to entertain and my room was occupied with a proper, pre-approved, completely boring woman. Sergei graciously took her off my hands."

"Met someone last night, did you? Good man. Only three months until your birthday."

Sebastian laughed a bit cruelly. "Not so fast Father. I'm sure you wouldn't approve at all. She wasn't a guest at the party, she was working at it. And I'm not sure I'll even see her again."

Viktor's voice started to rise. Sebastian had learned long ago his father's bark was much worse than his bite but it still had the power to make men quiver with fear at the slightest provocation. He always forgot it had never quite worked on his unruly son. "Why am I spending all of this time and money on expensive parties if you refuse to behave like a civilized adult?" his father rumbled.

"Don't ask me. I'd much prefer it if you'd stop."

"That's it, that's it. I told Sergei it wouldn't work, that I'd only give him one last chance. Now I know for a fact I'm making the right decision."

At that moment Sergei stormed into the room, looking a little bit rumpled around the edges but not a piece of clothing out of place. His eyes quickly took in Sebastian and the laptop and he sent his charge a withering look, the swear word murmured so softly the King could not hear. "Your Highness," Sergei said, turning the computer quickly to cut Sebastian from the shot, "I apologize for my absence." He bowed slightly to the computer.

"It is done. I am done."

"No, no, Your Highness, please. Give him another chance," Sergei pressed, trying to keep his voice civil and respectful.

"Another chance at what?" Sebastian interrupted. He came to stand behind Sergei and traded looks with him and the computer screen, imploring someone to fill him in.

"To be King."

"Is that all?" Sebastian laughed, and flicked his hand in a dismissive wave. "Why does no one believe me when I say I don't want to be King?"

"He doesn't mean that," Sergei said instantly.

"Yes, Sergei, I do!"

"You've had enough chances Sergei. I'm going to do it."

"No, sir, please reconsider."

"What are you going to do? What can you do? What, Viktor?" Sebastian looked at his father with teenage challenge in his eyes. He'd been hearing it, hearing it forever; the vast consequences of not following the Petrescu rules, of daring to not buy into the hype of his own destiny. What was his father going to do?

The King's eyes hardened. It could have been the use of his first name, the level of disrespect that showed. King Viktor was nothing if not old-fashioned. He was the King he would take that from no one, least of all his impertinent son. "I'm going to tell Queen Ekaterina that Anton should succeed me and pledge my support to him."

"Anton? You want to tell Baba Katya that Anton should be King? Anton?!"

"Who did you expect to rule Sebi? You think you can refuse and what, we will go on with no King, that your indecision and insolence will have no effect at all? You should be King! I have done nothing but try and make you King. And you fight me every step of the way. You will be unmarried so Baba Katya will not line you anyway. I will not be backing a losing horse." And before his son could respond, Viktor closed the line and the screen went black.

Kat walked back into the living room to find Sebastian and Sergei arguing. Not that she could understand what they were arguing about since they were doing so in a completely different language. She was transfixed for a moment it probably wasn't anything good but the sound of it was mildly intoxicating. She'd lived in New York her whole life and it took two arguing foreigners to make her feel cultured.

"I can fix this!" Sebastian finally burst out in English.

"How?! Enlighten me with your plan. Sir."

Ooh, he's in trouble, Kat thought to herself.

"No matter how powerful my father thinks he is, he does not make the succession decisions, Sergei. He cannot will Anton to victory over me."

Sergei barked an entirely ferocious sounding laugh, no mirth at all. "And what? Suddenly now you want to be King? Just so Anton won't be."

"Anton cannot win."

"Fine. Then what is your plan. Sir."

"Well, I will appeal to Baba Katya. She is the one that decides; she is the one that knows. I am her favorite, I can sway her."

He does not sound very sure of that, Kat mused as she tiptoed around them, gathering her things to make her unnoticed exit.

"You have overlooked the obvious problem," Sergei said.

"Which is?"

"You must be married."

"Done."

Kat couldn't help it, she snorted in amus.e.m.e.nt. Their heads whipped to her in unison, both of their heavy stares boring into her. And she could not stay quiet against the weight of their gazes. "Like that's gonna happen." They continued staring and she continued talking. "Sebastian, I like you, I do, but you said it yourself last night, you are not the marrying kind. You're James Dean. All you see is the easy lay and couldn't point out quality if your life depended on it. You wouldn't even notice the marrying kind if it bit you. You, pick a wife? Good luck with that."

They both continued to stare at her but she couldn't take it anymore. "Okay, I'm leaving," she said, pointing towards the door, "because you guys definitely have a thing going on here and I don't want to get any more in the way."

"Sergei, nice to meet you. You keep him safe, okay?" Kat said with what she thought was a friendly smile. It faltered slightly when he continued to look at her like she had a few too many heads. "All right then."

She clapped her hands together and turned to the Royal Rebel. "You still owe me a shirt," she murmured with a s.e.xy smirk. She pressed her lips against the stubble on his cheek and it was an effort to pull away. "Take care of yourself Sebastian. Don't be a stranger."

And then she turned and walked out the door, wondering if she'd done it right, said what she was expected to say, vanished like any good one night stand should leaving them wanting more.

"She's right," Sergei said.

"I know," Sebastian murmured, still looking at the door she'd disappeared through.

"Your father won't help match you now. Not as timely as we need him to."

"I know."

"And Queen Ekaterina will not bend on this. She will not place you if you're not married."

"I know."

"Where are you going?" Sergei yelled after Sebastian as he grabbed a shirt from the floor and rushed out of the room.

"Marry me." He caught up with her in the foyer, shirt barely over his head.

Kat turned around with startled eyes and he just repeated his question. She broke out in startled laughter. "Good one."

"I'm serious. Marry me."

"Oh. In that case, no." She patted him rea.s.suringly on the shoulder as she laughed again and exited the hotel.

"Why not? I'm rich. I'm handsome." She stopped on the steps and he ran down to cut her off, leaning provocatively in front of her to halt her progress. "I know I can rock your world."

"Such humility."

"Marry me."

"It'd never work. I'm much too hot for you to handle, remember," she teased, side-stepping him.

He grabbed her arm and hauled her back towards him. A look pa.s.sed between them as he bent down to kiss her upturned face. "We're good together," he whispered seductively against her lips.

"Lots of people are," she said, "and I'm not marrying you."

"Why not?" He asked the question right against her skin. She felt it more than heard it.

"Marrying you is definitely not part of any of my plans."

He shrugged that off. "Plans change that's how adventures begin. You need a better reason than that."

She pushed away from him before answering. "Because I'm not in love."

Sebastian scoffed. "Love?! You want to get married for love? What is it with America and all these romantic, doe-eyed females walking around? Love is an illusion."

"Well it's one of the only ones I have left," she said, realizing too late that she said much too much in that sentence. "I'm sure you'll be able to find someone to marry you, especially if you keep proposing to people you've known less than a day. There are a lot of desperate women out there. Everywhere actually. And I have it on good authority you're indiscriminately lucky."

"I can't marry just anyone."

"Sure sounded like it upstairs. And back there when you proposed. What, now you have standards?"

Sebastian laughed at the haughty look in her eyes. "I've always had standards. Not just anyone can impress my grandmother."

"You think I'd impress your grandmother, do you?" She was feeling just a bit flattered.

"No, you're right, that was a bad choice."

"Hey," she said, punching him in the shoulder. He grinned and she couldn't help but join in.

"My grandmother decides the lines of succession in my country. Everyone is placed on their thirtieth birthday. By that time all royals should be 'settled.' Can concentrate more on the direction of the country and our duties if we're not chasing tail around the countryside."

"Your grandmother said that?" she asked.

"Paraphrasing. So see, I need to get married."

"Well when do you turn thirty?"

"Three months."

Kat started walking again. "Good luck with that."

"You said it yourself, I'm hopeless. What am I supposed to do? Help me."

She stopped. It sounded like she'd just brought a prince to his knees. How could she walk away from that? "I won't marry you," she said, watching the hopeful face he'd gotten as she'd turned around crumble, "but I'll help you find someone that will."

"That's the best you can do?" he asked.

"The best I can do."

"Well I'll take what I can get, Kisa."