Affairs of State(38)
“You don’t need to. Clap when our team scores and you’ll be good.”
“What if a reporter asks probing questions?”
“They won’t. It’s a very exclusive event and there are unwritten rules that keep them at a respectful distance.”
“What if I become hysterical and make a big scene?”
He grinned. “Then we’ll call some nice men in white coats to come take you away. Would you like a glass of Pimm’s to soothe your nerves?”
“No, thanks. I really don’t like to drink before noon. Especially on Sunday. It affects my aim.” She brandished her mascara wand.
“Quite understandable. I should probably warn you about my uncle Derek. He’s likely to be three sheets to the wind by noon and isn’t shy about expressing himself.”
Uncle Derek? She’d never heard of him. Her confusion must have shown in her face.
“He’s my mother’s brother, so not royal by birth, but he’s latched on to the family and is hanging on with a death grip. He tries to be more traditional than anyone so he’s not likely to approve of me dating an American.”
She sighed. “It’s not like we’re…serious.” Was she trying to convince herself? Their weekend together had been so easy and fun. She and Simon really clicked. They could talk about anything. And the sex…
“Says who?” He sauntered into the room. “I can be very serious when the occasion calls for it.” He walked up behind her where she stood at the mirror and slid his arms around her waist. His lips pressed hotly into her neck and sent heat plunging to her toes. “And I seriously like you.”
She blinked, looking from her startled face to his relaxed one in the mirror. “I like you, too, but it is a strange situation, you have to admit.”
“My entire life is a strange situation, by most measurable parameters.” He nibbled on her ear, which made her gasp. “I don’t let it bother me.”
“I guess when you put it that way…” Her words trailed off as their eyes locked in the mirror. His managed to sparkle with amusement and desire at the same time. His hands roamed over her hips and belly, setting off tremors of desire. Last night’s lovemaking still reverberated in her mind and body. If she could just get through this afternoon without any drama they’d be back in bed together, tonight. Their last night before her flight back to D.C. tomorrow.
Without making a decision to, she turned and kissed him, smudging her carefully applied makeup and gripping him in a forceful embrace. If this was all they ever had it would be well worth it. No regrets.
At least she hoped not.
* * *
“And this is my grandmother.” Simon smiled encouragingly. People milled around them in the royal enclosure, laughing and clinking glasses. Photographers were at a discreet distance. Mallets thwacked against balls somewhere in the background.
The queen looked so tiny up close. Ariella began to curtsey, but the queen stuck out her hand, so she took it. Cool and soft, the fingers closed around hers with surprising strength. “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Winthrop. Simon tells me you’ve never been to a polo match before.” Steel-blue eyes peered into her very core.
“No, this is my first.”
“Simon also informs me that President Morrow is your father.” The queen’s cool grip trapped her hands.
“Um, yes.” Did she realize they’d never met, or even spoken? “Rather a surprise to both of us.”
“Surprises do keep life interesting, don’t they?”
“They do indeed.”
The queen bombarded her with information about the various polo ponies, their breeding and track records and finer qualities. She was clearly skilled at holding the entire conversation with little participation from others. Ariella decided she’d work on that skill herself. It seemed a safe way to keep conversations on the right track.
Simon smiled and nodded and generally seemed delighted at how things were progressing. Ariella smiled and nodded while thinking, Omigosh, I’m chatting about horses with the queen. And I don’t know anything about horses. And I’m sleeping with her grandson.
She was definitely ready for a Pimm’s by the time a new arrival interrupted their conversation to greet Her Majesty. Simon procured her a large glass of the tea-colored drink with its floating mix of strawberries, apples, orange and cucumber. She knew the sweet taste hid a base of gin, so she sipped it gingerly, not wanting to find herself giggling and falling over in her stilettos as some of the younger guests were already in danger of doing.