The Controversial Princess (The Smoke & Mirrors Duology #1)(100)

I can’t help it. I laugh, because that is, quite possibly—no, definitely—the funniest thing I have ever heard. “Josh, be real. The King might seem all jolly and friendly, but the moment he gets a whiff of your intentions, I would advise you to be far, far away from his shotgun.”

“He won’t shoot me. And maybe it’s a good thing if he does—in the leg or something. He’ll be locked up. Problem solved.”

“That’s an amazing idea.” I dazzle him with an excited smile, and quickly let it drop like a rock. “Except the King is the only person in the land immune from prosecution.”

His eyes widen. “He is?”

“It’s an ancient law. But my point is, he’ll get away with it.”

“Okay, smart-ass, what do you suggest?”

I land a kiss on his lips and push him back, hopping off the bed and heading for the bathroom. “I already told you.” I stop at the door and turn, cocking my eyebrow. “Smuggle me out of the country.”

On a roll of his eyes, he props himself up on his elbows. “Sensible ideas, please.”

“It’s more sensible than yours.” I leave Josh with a moody face and head for the toilet. “At least we’ll both still be alive,” I sit down, smiling when I notice that I didn’t even bother to close the door. He’s been a spectator while I have relieved myself before, because that was the natural progression of our relationship, apparently. And now he loves me. And I love him.

Josh appears in the doorway, his naked body propped against the frame by his shoulder. I don’t get stage fright. I don’t even blush. It’s liberating. “You’re being dramatic,” he tells me. “This is the twenty-first century, for Christ’s sake. You should be able to date who you please.”

His blatant irritation is endearing. I finish up and wash my hands, observing his sulky form in the mirror. He looks like a petulant child. Sounds like one, too. “Like it or not, I require permission to date. If I ever want to marry, I would need the King’s permission for that, too.” I dry my hands, smiling at his widening eyes.

“Who said anything about marriage?”

I give him a tired look. “I was giving you an idea of how complex and silly protocol is when it comes to dating a royal.”

“It’s ridiculous.”

“I agree.”

“So no matter how much your father likes me, it’ll be a no?”

I wander over and reach up on my tippy-toes to kiss his bristly chin. My move has him relinquishing the support of the doorframe in favor of me. I look at him, my head tilted far back. “Unless you harbor a secret connection to some blue-blooded, aristocratic family somewhere in Europe, then it’s a no.”

“That sucks.”

“That’s my life.” I smile sadly at his glum expression, seeing the gravity of this, of us, coming to rest on his broad shoulders, forcing them down a fraction. “They’ll do everything in their power to rid you from my life.”

“And I’ll do everything to keep you. I told you, I won’t lose.”

His gallant gesture is warming. “Neither will I. I know what being with you will cost me, and I’m fine with that. Relieved, actually.”

“Your place in succession?”

“And possibly my home. And my family, and definitely my allowances.”

“All of it?” He looks horrified, and in this moment I get a pang of worry, stepping back out of his arms. What if my title and position are what’s appealing for Josh? What if this is all a big publicity stunt to him? I cock my head, thinking carefully, trying to reason with my runaway thoughts. That’s utterly preposterous. He doesn’t need the fame, nor does he need my money. Josh’s head tilts to the side too, his eyes examining me. “Don’t you dare think what I think you’re thinking,” he says shortly, recoiling a little, offended.

“I wasn’t thinking,” I lie, guilt quickly eating me up inside. His palm meets my chest and walks me backward until I’m pinned to a wall, his face up close to mine, pure disgust invading it. “I could have nothing left,” I murmur, putting it out there. “No title, no money, nothing.”

“You will have me.” His face is so stern, but the words are soft and pleading, and I go lax against the wall.

“I need you to know—” His mouth meeting mine swallows my words and straightens out my tangled mind.

“I know.” Josh lifts me from my feet and carries me to the bedroom, placing me on my feet at the end of the bed. “Don’t ever question what I want out of this. I want you. Nothing else. Nothing more. Just you.”

His phone rings from the side of the bed, and we both turn to face the sound. Josh frowns and moves us toward the bedside, and he solidifies against me when he notes who is calling.

“What?” I question, not liking his wariness. “Who is it?”

“My publicist.” He breaks away from me and starts walking across the room, his back to me. “Yeah?” Stopping by the window, I see his muscles roll in waves of aggravation. “What? For fuck’s sake. I’ll call you back.” He hangs up and starts scrolling through his phone, yet I don’t ask what has got him agitated. He looks too focused. Too annoyed. So I remain where I am, worrying my lip through my teeth nervously. His attention is unwavering on his screen, and he eventually groans. And I lose my ability to keep quiet.