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As my best friend, Callum is the only palace staff with a vague knowledge of my whereabouts, but even so, he only has a general idea of which county I’ve been camping out in.
He’s good at keeping secrets, that one. We have a mutual agreement—I stay at his place when the world gets to be too much. And I disappear whenever he has a girl visiting.
That one has a lot of female visitors. I’ve never seen a single one face to face, because that’s none of my business.
I adjust my cock inside my trousers, and when I do, I look out to the main room and out the window. The rowboat is on the lake, away from the dock. My rowboat.
And it’s moving. It’s headed this way, more or less. Could it be my large-breasted trespasser?
I swallow hard as the sunlight catches the red hair that’s twisted on top of her head.
Anastasia.
I stalk out of the bathroom, eat up the distance to the screen door, push that open, and don’t stop until I’m perched at the end of the dock.
Right. It’s better to position myself for a confrontation when she returns my boat so we can get this over with.
For gods’ sakes, the woman is rowing backward, facing the bow instead of the stern. She’s not doing a terrible job, but she looks ridiculous. And cute.
“Hi! Can I help you?”
The woman stops rowing and eyes me up and down.
Her eyes land on my chest, then on my crossed arms. To my chagrin, I feel excited when she looks at my body. Then, her gaze lands on my right hand, and I see one eyebrow go up.
“Sir? Is that my bra?”
Sir? Clearly, she doesn’t realize who I am. And what was that she said about a bra?
Oh…oh, no. I uncross my arms, and there, crushed between my sausage fingers is her lacy, satiny push-up bra. Somehow, I’m still clutching it.
Fuck me.
I clear my throat and dryly say, “Madame, I…”
I what? How could I explain why I’m holding her bra like the ultimate creep?
Then I see it. Familiarity dawns on her face. Anastasia’s face pales. She gasps and stands up in the row boat.
“Oh fuck, pardon me, Your Highness!”
Waving her bra in the air like a semaphore, I warn her not to stand up, curtsy, or do anything because she’s…
And she’s done it. The boat lists to one side, and the beautiful, sturdy, surprised Anastasia is in the water.
Here we go.
3
Stasi
Darkness is all around me as water rushes into my nostrils.
I need to get to the surface but can’t find it. The shadow of the upturned boat above me makes everything dark and murky when I open my eyes beneath the surface to get my bearings.
Or is the boat below me?
I try not to panic, but it’s difficult to remain calm when one is not a strong swimmer, and your brain is confused as to which way the surface is.
