The Controversial Princess (Smoke & Mirrors Duet #1)(17)
Hearing my office door open, I look over my shoulder to find Eddie dressed in his military uniform. “Been to the barracks?” I ask, turning to face him. He nods, taking in my form thoughtfully. Frowning, I look at my black skinny jeans and cropped tee. My feet are bare, my hair piled high, my makeup minimum. “What?” I had nothing to do today except sit in my office. I’m hardly going to have Jenny glam me up for such a mundane task.
“You will do,” he declares, collecting me from the window.
“What are you doing?” My eyes are covered by Eddie’s palms as he walks me out of my office, and I laugh, taking tentative steps through the palace.
“Straight ahead,” he orders, shuffling along behind me.
“Did you get me a surprise?”
“My birthday gift. Keep walking.” He steers me to the right, toward the ostentatious dining room that seats fifty comfortably around a table, but never gets used. I can hear muffled music and people. Lots of them. Eddie stops me, his hands still covering my eyes, and I hear the tall double doors open, the music becoming louder, but the chatter quieting down. “Happy birthday, little sis,” he says, removing his palms, revealing the room, splitting at the seams with . . .
“Oh my,” I breathe, my delighted eyes taking in the scene before me as I wander in. A grin slowly forms on my face. “Now this is what I call a party.” I snag a bottle of Belvedere off the table, as well as a bottle of Fever Tree tonic—a glass is not necessary—and I throw myself into the crowd of soldiers, the bottles raised above my head.
“They have their warnings,” Eddie calls after me, as the men all cheer my arrival.
That is all good and well, but I don’t recall getting my warning. “Well, hello, gents.” I slam the two bottles down on the highly polished dining room table, which is already cluttered with various bottles of alcohol and mixers. I spot Matilda across the room with our friends from boarding school, including Felicity. They raise their bottles of alcohol, eyeing the crowd of sex-starved soldiers. “Let’s have some fun.” I take the pins from my hair and shake out my long, dark waves, just in time for a man—a handsome man—to pick me up and lift me onto the huge table.
I smile at him as he passes me my bottles. “Thank you, kind sir.”
“Center stage for the princess.” Collecting his bottle of Jack Daniels, he hollers across the room for someone to turn up the music.
“Adeline.” My private secretary appears at the foot of the table, pushing a man off her when he tries to get her dancing.
“Oh, Kim,” I sigh, crouching down a little. “I’ve had a monotonous day. You’re not going to try and spoil my fun, are you? I will behave, I promise.”
Her skeptical look is justified. “Just keep it contained to this room, okay?”
“Okay.” I nod obediently.
“Damon will be outside if you need him.”
I look up and see my head of security by the double doors, delegating positions and posts to three of his team. He has done this before. If anyone gets too excitable, he’ll be quick to eject them. Damon catches my eye and gives me a thumbs up, his way of asking me if I am okay. I return his thumbs up and mouth my thank you. He’s so unruffled; he never makes a big deal of anything, just gets on with his job. I return my attention to Kim. “Time for you to go home.”
She looks around at the rowdiness building and nods her agreement. “See you in the morning.”
“Not too early.” I rise and swing around, summoning Matilda and Felicity to join me. “Come on,” I call, hearing Duke Dumont’s The Giver blast from the speakers. “Woo hoo.” I swig from my personal bottle of vodka, and wash it down with a bit of tonic as I spin on the spot, hell-bent on making my belated birthday party one to remember.
“Adeline, you are wild,” Matilda sings, getting up on the table.
I laugh when she grabs me and spins me on the spot. “Are you going to have fun?” I ask my uptight cousin. She rarely lets her hair down, unquestionably bound by the restraints the Royals impose.
“You have enough fun for all the family.” She bends and snags a bottle of Hendricks. “But your place is the only place I can let go. Bring on the drinks,” she sings. “And the men.”
Felicity throws her arms in the air, shouts a declaration of love for me, then proceeds to strut down the length of long table, giving sultry eyes to every man lining the room. The whistles follow her all the way. I smirk, being thrown back to our boarding school days when we used to sneak out of the window of our dorms and over the wall that kept us contained. Those nights spent getting outrageously drunk in the local village pub with the boy soldiers from the army barracks nearby were some of the best nights of my life. I was anonymous and free.
Taking the Belvedere to my lips, I chug down a healthy amount, cast the Fever Tree aside, throw one arm in the air, and get to having some bloody fun.
HALF A BOTTLE LATER, MY party is rocking and the dining table is carrying the weight of a dozen people, all flinging themselves around, bottles in hand. I laugh, feeling light and free, out of breath but thriving, as I yank one of Eddie’s army friends toward me and start dancing with him. He looks a bit cautious at first, but alcohol soon takes over and douses his delicate approach to me. He spins me away from him, his bottle of whisky extending over my shoulder in front of me. He brings it to my lips for me to take a mouthful as he grinds into my arse in time to Lost Frequencies. Some liquid spills down my chin and T-shirt, but wiping myself clean is not top of his priority list, and instead, he shoves me out and grabs my hand, twirling me around on a laugh. “Come on, girl.” He throws our hands up, smiling, and it is now that I register it’s the guy who lifted me up to the table when the party started. His blond hair is hidden under his green beret, his camouflage jacket gone, leaving him now in just a khaki, tight T-shirt and combats.