Rise of a Queen (Kingdom Duet #2) by Rina Kent

“It’s so beautiful,” I murmur.

“Indeed.”

My attention snaps back to Jonathan, and just like the other time in the park, he’s not watching the view, he’s watching me.

“Right,” I joke. “You’ve probably seen this scenery like a thousand times.”

“It feels like a first with you.”

My lips part, but no words come out. God. He sometimes says shit that turns me speechless and so utterly touched. How the hell does he do that?

“Are you comfortable?” he asks.

“Mmm.”

“You might want to rest. Here.” He fiddles with something on the side and both chairs fall back in a comfortable reclined position. Jonathan removes the seatbelts and pulls up the armrest so there’s nothing between us.

I don’t hesitate as my head rests on his chest, half my body covers his like we do when we sleep. His fingers caress my hair, and I lean farther into his touch.

It could be his soothing heartbeat or the peaceful atmosphere or that I’m putting a pause on the chaos back home, but sleep comes almost immediately.

“Where are we going anyway?” I ask in a half-sleepy tone.

“To my island.”





19





Aurora





Jonathan owns an island.

No shit. He owns a fucking island.

I’m dazed during the entire drive from where the plane landed to wherever the hell he’s taking me.

The early morning sun shines through the branches and leaves, almost like a welcoming ceremony.

The roads are narrow and tropical trees decorate the sideways as far as the vision goes. Moses drives with ease, knowing exactly where we’re going.

That makes one of us.

“How did you get this island?” I inch closer to Jonathan. For some reason, his nearness always makes me feel safe in unknown places. Actually, that happens in all places.

He’s leaning back against the car’s leather seat, legs wide apart and his entire demeanour relaxed. My hand is nestled in his on his hard thigh. He hasn’t let me go — not during the flight and not after we got into the car. “I won it ten years ago from a Saudi prince in a poker game.”

“Poker?” I nearly shriek.

“Yes.”

“He must be devastated for losing it.”

“Not really. He has a few more islands scattered around the world.”

“What did you bet?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“If he bet an island, you must’ve put up something of so much value.”

He raises a brow. “And you want to know what I consider most valuable?”

“Sort of. What was it?”

“My son.”

“W-what? You bet Aiden?”

His expression remains the same. “That’s what I said.”

“How…how can you even bet a person?”

“It’s more common than you think.”

“I…I can’t believe you bet your own son — your only offspring. I don’t think I want to talk to you right now, or ever. And I’m totally telling Aiden so he knows what you’ve done. What if you’d lost, huh?” I poke his shoulder. “Huh?”

A smile breaks free across Jonathan’s beautiful lips. “I didn’t think you’d be this easily deceived.”

“You…you were joking?” That’s as rare as witnessing a mythical being.

“You think I would ever bet Aiden? He’s my only son.”

Phew. Deep down, I didn’t think he’d do that, but he also doesn’t joke. That’s the part that threw me off. “So what did you bet?”

“One of my subsidiaries.”

“I didn’t know you play poker.”

“I don’t.”

“You just said you won it in a poker game.”

“I only play when I know I can win. I don’t like unsure gambles.”

Considering Jonathan’s control-freak personality, that makes complete sense.

My attention returns to the road and the way the trees part as we pass through. “What’s the name of the island?”

“It’s under King Enterprises.”

“It should have a name of its own.”

“The prince called it a complicated Arabic name. It’s on the papers. If you’re so insistent on knowing it, I can call Harris.”

“You should name it something special to you. After all, not just anyone can own an island.”

“Huh.”

I’m not sure what he means by that, but it seems as if he’s never thought of that possibility. Jonathan is the type who doesn’t get attached to things like normal humans, and I guess that makes this whole suggestion pointless to him.

Oh well, at least I tried. I haven’t gotten to see most of the island yet, and it already looks like a small space cut from paradise.

Thoughts of why we’re here try to barge in. I think of Dad’s interview and his accusations, about the prosecution, media, and victims’ families.

The beauty surrounding me starts to vanish, its colours slowly turning to grey. This isn’t a holiday.

I’m running away — it’s as simple as that.

Jonathan releases my hand, letting it drop to his lap, and grips my thigh. It’s like he knows exactly where my mind went and is bringing me back to the present.