Page 28 of The Duke's Virgin
Eight
Luka
Exhaustion had my limbs heavy,but I couldn’t stay in bed much longer. The alarm had already gone off twice, and I could only ignore it so many times. My personal assistant had cleared my morning since I’d planned to be out of the country for the race, but I still had lunch with Geraint and several meetings that afternoon.
A dull headache pulsed at the base of my skull, brought on, no doubt, by the fact that I hadn’t crashed into bed until a little after five. It was now a quarter after eleven. Normally, six hours would be enough sleep, but I’d been on the move since six a.m. Sunday, and after nearly twenty-four hours awake, I needed more rest.
I forced myself upright, and everything protested.
Still, I smiled.
I would have gotten more rest if I hadn’t spent most of the night with Stacia out in the garden…then a good hour in her room, one that stretched out well past two in the morning.
By the time I got back to the party, I’d been ready to call it a night and head home, but a drunken Emmett had seen me and dragged me into a conversation with…somebody. A cousin of Princes Harry and William, maybe. Yes, that seemed right. The short, solid man had beamed at me and shaken my hand with a happy enthusiasm before telling me that he’d gone to college with my father.
That had made it evenmoreproblematic to separate from him, but the real kicker had come when Emmett slung an arm around my neck and told me that the man, a beloved cousin of the famous princes, was a fan of Formula One and looking to sponsor a team of his own. Emmett had been fucking with him, something I’d recognized easy enough, but the poor guy hadn’t realized it, and I had to be diplomatic.
I had every intention of giving Emmett hell for it too.
Later.
Much, much later.
For now, I was too busy reliving those moments with Stacia.
* * *
“How much didyou drink last night?”
“I’m fine, thanks.” It wasn’t until the answer left me that I realized it was a little off. “What I meant was, not all that much. I’m fine, Geraint.”
My younger brother sat in front of me, amusement gleaming in his eyes. “Yes, I’m sure that’s exactly what you meant, brother.”
“Did your fiancée enjoy the party?” Deciding it was better to change the subject, I reached for my water and took a sip.
“She did, very much. She told me to tell you she’d see you soon.” Geraint snagged a roll from the basket near his plate and took a bite, eyes leveled on me. “Now…why are you so distracted? I don’t think it’s a hangover. You’re not glassy-eyed. Did you meet somebody?”
“I thought we were going to discuss your wedding.” I was tempted to lob my basket of bread at his head. I didn’t need the reminders of Stacia. I’d never see her again. That was how she wanted it too. She’d made that clear. I had a night of sweet memories, and that was it. Frankly, that should be enough. More than enough.
“That wasn’t an answer.”
Geraint took another bite of his roll, then leaned back and gave me a measuring stare. “Distracted. You don’t look like you slept well. I heard Leonor talking to Noah. You didn’t get in until five.”
“Are you keeping track of me, Geraint?” Taking a sip of water, I studied him over the glass. “Should I have called to let you know I’d be late? Were you worried I’d fallen in with a bad crowd and was out carousing?”
He grinned at me. “You most definitely hooked up with somebody. Not only are you completely distracted, you’re touchy. You’renevertouchy…well, except at certain times. Like after a hook-up. Most guys are more relaxed after they get laid. But not you. I suppose you’re worried somebody will be sniffing around, looking for a ring or something.”
“For fuck’s sake.” Annoyed, I dropped my roll on the plate before I could throw it at him. “Yes, I…hooked upwith somebody, and no, I’m not worried she’ll besniffing around. Grow up, Geraint. You’re getting married soon. Women don’t gosniffing around.”
Geraint scowled at me. “Some do.”
“Would our mother be impressed to hear you referring to the opposite sex in such a manner?” Before he could respond, I added, “WouldKatrina?”
“You’ve got a point. I guess you’re serious about this woman. Who is she?”
“I’m not serious and it’s none of your concern.” The words came out quicker than I liked, harsher. Hoping to cover, I shrugged. “It was just a thing. But that doesn’t mean you talk about women that way.”
He gave me a skeptical look.
