The Controversial Princess (The Smoke & Mirrors Duology #1)(102)

“The PIN?”

I look up. “It’s working?”

“The screen’s fucked. Tell me the PIN.”

“Eight-five-nine-three-one-zero-two-two.”

He balks at me. It’s rather adorable. “What the fuck?”

“Palace security,” I grumble, dropping my eyes and watching him blindly navigate the touch screen.

“Bingo.” He raises the phone to his ear, and I cringe at the conversation that’s about to happen, wishing my phone dead.

“Damon?” Josh says, coming to sit beside my reclined body on the bed. “Yes, Josh Jameson. We have a situation.” He flicks his eyes to me, and I scowl. I’m a situation. “You do?” Josh’s eyes take on an edge of sympathy. For me. “Bates called you,” he says slowly, keeping me abreast of the conversation. I wish he wouldn’t. I don’t want to know how fuming mad Damon is. “You’re on your way,” he says quietly, and I cringe, imagining Damon’s reaction when Bates put that call in. “Yes, in my suite at The Dorchester.” Josh goes on, telling Damon his new room number. “I’ll let her explain herself when you get here.” My leg swings of its own volition, booting Josh in the thigh. He smirks at my pursed lips. “There’s a circus outside the hotel. We can create a decoy, but we need you to get her back into Kellington.” Pause. “Yes. Thanks, bud.” Josh chucks my phone on the bed.

“How did he sound?” I don’t know why I’m asking.

“Pissed off,” Josh confirms bluntly, and I groan, covering my eyes with my palms.

“I’m in so much trouble.” The thought of Damon being cross with me isn’t thrilling. I hate that I’ve disappointed him. It’s ironic. I couldn’t care less about my father or his aides, but Damon is different. I’ve let him down, and I know I have risked his job.

My hands are suddenly gone from my face, and Josh is suspended over me, grinning. “But I’m worth it, right?”

“I don’t know. Are you?”

His sparkly eyes narrow. “You tell me.” His hand glides over my hip and under my bum, gripping hard. I jump in his hold, my sore bottom burning, and he laughs. “That’s a yes, then.” A hard kiss is placed on my mouth. “Come on, time to get dressed and face the music.”





THE TIME AND EFFORT THAT went into getting me out of The Dorchester was both brilliant and ridiculous. Poor Josh was forced to endure the crowds, just to keep their attention off the staff entrance so I could escape. Damon’s eyes were like steel—hard and formidable. I shied away every time I caught his stare from leaving the suite, to getting back to Kellington. He didn’t utter a word for the entire journey, and the silence was agony, full of silent disapproval and fury. I must have shrunk a whole foot in height in the space of an hour, feeling small and inconvenient.

It’s the morning after the night before, and I’m sitting at the breakfast table at Kellington. My scrambled eggs haven’t been touched, and my eyes haven’t moved from the picture dominating the front page of a newspaper. All I can see are my Uggs and my two slim legs sprouting from the tops. Josh’s face is perfectly clear, though, and it is etched with infuriation.

“Tell me it isn’t you.” Eddie’s voice startles me, and I quickly flip the newspaper over, like there isn’t another million in print available.

“What isn’t me?” I force-feed myself some eggs, trying to appear as casual as possible.

Eddie’s hand appears and returns the paper upright, his finger landing on the Ugg boots. “You have these, right?”

“As do a million other women in Britain.”

“But these ones are yours, yes?”

I drop my fork and look him square in the eye. “If you must know, yes.”

Eddie rounds the table, his chest expanding, ready to say some more, but he pulls back his words and sits down when Kim wanders in, her face stony. “New phone,” she says, turning on her heels and walking out.

“Thank you,” I call, wincing a little at her shortness. She knows she’s being kept in the dark, and she doesn’t like it.

“Did you feel free while you were being hustled through that chaos?” Eddie asks seriously once Kim has gone. “And to think they don’t know your identity. Imagine the fuss if they ever find out.”

“When,” I say curtly. “When they find out.” Resting my napkin on the table, I stand from my chair, giving up on trying to put something in my tummy, and also giving up on trying to reason with my brother. “Good day to you, Edward.” I stroll away, chin held high.

“When they find out? So you’re going to tell the King?”

“I am.” I don’t let my steps falter, and I don’t let Eddie’s surprised tone affect me, either. I’m not enduring the stress of last night again, and I don’t mean the hordes of people camping outside the hotel, but more the logistics of getting to the hotel. I’m a grown woman, for pity’s sake, and I had to skulk around London like a teenager who had snuck out while her parents were sleeping, just to see her boyfriend. “Don’t try to talk me out of it.” Will he try to talk me out of it?

“Adeline.” Eddie’s up and coming after me, his steps hard on the floor.