The Controversial Princess (Smoke & Mirrors Duet #1)(9)

I don’t know why I pout, like I could be pondering whether or not to dance to his tune. I’m going to let this man violate me, and I’m going to love every second of it. A glimpse of a picture of Josh Jameson could make my thighs tighten. Being in his presence, hearing his smooth accent, feeling him caress my bottom like it’s something to be worshipped, has me burning where I stand. I’m a princess, I mentally tell myself. Why I now feel the need to remind myself of that little matter, I haven’t the faintest idea. It is never usually an issue. But while Josh Jameson is Hollywood royalty and most women on earth would jump him at the first flash of his disarming smile, I am actual royalty. I am a royal princess and jumping a man in public would be highly frowned upon, and will definitely land me in hot water with the King. But what I do in private, away from these self-important idiots, is my own business. “I have a terrible habit of getting myself into trouble,” I tell him candidly.

“Want to get into trouble with me?” He steps back and lightly rests his hands in his pockets, waiting for my answer, smiling an adorable, irresistible smile as he does.

“That’s an offer one could never refuse.” I smile, too. I can only hope that it’s as enticing as his. Well, happy birthday to me. “What did you have in mind?”

“I have a gift for you.”

“You? Naked? With a bow covering . . .” I drop my eyes to his groin, chewing the inside of my lip. “Actually, no bow.”

He laughs, rich and deep. “You are like nothing I’ve ever encountered before, Your Highness.”

“Neither are you,” I admit, tingles licking up my spine.

“Is there anywhere private around the palace?” he asks, gazing around the grounds. “So I can give you my gift.”

“There is a maze of conifer trees at the most southern point of the grounds.” I look away, smiling at the many people smiling at me. “Meet me there in half an hour.”

His grin is wicked, and I just know his body and talents will be, too. Having a quick scan around us, he moves in toward me and slaps my arse. I jolt, despite it being a light rap. “Just warming up my palm,” he whispers in my ear. He’s lucky no security personnel are directly behind him. Said palm would be cuffed quite quickly. My body rolls deliciously, my insides furling. But I’m struggling to identify whether it’s with anticipation or nerves. It’s anticipation. It has to be. I don’t get nervous around men.

“Look forward to it,” I reply, strong and even.

“Me, too.” Jameson looks past me when someone catches his attention. “I’m wanted.”

“Don’t waste too much energy on talking now, will you?”

He laughs a little, landing me with eyes full of intentions that stimulate me. Half an hour might be too long to wait. “My energy levels won’t be an issue, Your Highness. But your tolerance levels may well be.” A cheeky wink is flipped, and my mouth drops open, astounded, but I’m mostly bubbling with exhilaration. My teeth nibble the edge of my glass as he saunters off across the lawn.

“You are a frightful flirt, Adeline Lockhart,” Matilda says, joining me, her eyes stuck on the exact same thing mine are: Josh Jameson’s delightful backside.

I tilt my head, thoughtful. I plan on digging my fingernails into that arse very soon. “I’m having fun at my birthday party.” I turn toward her and raise my glass. “Happy birthday to me.” I sip, very ladylike, but my mind is currently bloody filthy, and my lacy knickers are drenched with desire.

“The King will skin you alive.”

“If he finds out. Which he will not.” I cast my eyes across the lawn, nearly yawning when I spot someone heading toward us. “Oh, bugger, here comes Haydon.”

“I don’t know why you refuse to date him, Adeline,” Matilda says, painting on a smile to match mine. “He’s handsome, with very good prospects, and most importantly, your father approves.”

“My father’s approval in men is not something I seek, Matilda. Haydon Sampson is not for me.”

“No man is for you.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” I catch Mr. Jameson’s eye and raise my glass on a reserved smile.

“Adeline,” Matilda gasps, and my smile widens. “He most certainly is not for you. The backlash would be catastrophic.”

Catastrophic? I was thinking orgasmic. “Oh, stop being such a bore.” She’s supposed to be in my corner. “Haydon,” I chime, seeming thrilled to see him. If only Matilda really understood my plight, she would not see the man in front of me as a suitable match.

He takes my hand and gives it a customary kiss, bowing as he does, before moving in for a kiss on my cheek. “You look absolutely sublime, Adeline.”

I force my sigh back. I wasn’t going for sublime. I was going for sultry. And one man here certainly saw that. Haydon is sweet, terribly sweet, but he does not make my heart flutter. We have known each other for so long, since children, and I was there for him when his mother sadly passed a few years ago. But as a friend. Just a friend. “You’re too kind.”

“Happy birthday, my darling.” His term of endearment grates on me somewhat. I hate the way he talks to me like we’ve been married for years, like I belong to him. The King may say so, as well as Haydon’s father.