The Controversial Princess (The Smoke & Mirrors Duology #1)(108)

“Have fun today,” I chirp, smiling sweetly. I’m eyed with sullenness. It makes me chuckle. “You’re regretting this, aren’t you?”

“Not at all. I got to fuck you against that door. Death by gunshot is the only thing that’d make me regret today.”

“Don’t put it past him,” I mutter, reaching forward and straightening his collar before popping a light kiss on his parted lips. “I’ll wait until the coast is clear.”

Josh backs out, smiling all the way, until the door comes between us and I’m alone. Nothing could wipe the smile from my face.





AT JUST PAST FOUR, AFTER spending nearly two hours listening to the charity’s CEO tell me all about their fundraising efforts for the remainder of the year and how I can help, I leave the headquarters of Trax. Honestly, I’m exhausted when I drop into the back seat of my car. The effort it has taken to focus on the words being spoken to me instead of how Josh has got on today has been a draining challenge. Damon still hasn’t spoken to me beyond anything formal, and while I was bothered earlier, I am far too tired to care now.

As he pulls away from the building, I rest my head on the window, thinking about having a long, hot bath and a relaxing evening. “Back to the palace, ma’am,” Damon says, though it isn’t a question. And something tells me that he’s not referring to Kellington.

I leave my head where it is, but move my eyes to look in the rearview mirror. “Kellington Palace? Yes.”

“No,” he replies, flat and final, prompting me to find the will to lift my head from the glass.

“Damon?”

“You have been summoned, ma’am.” He doesn’t even look at me, as if he’s avoiding the worry he knows I’ll feel.

“What for? I was only there this morning.” No sooner has my question passed my lips, I start answering it myself. Oh no. Has Josh said something silly? Has he told the King? Is he alive? The stream of questions refuse to stop, and in a flat-out panic, I retrieve my phone and dial Josh. There’s no answer.

“Who called you?” I ask Damon, moving forward so I’m wedged between the driver’s and passenger seat.

“Davenport, ma’am.”

That doesn’t really tell me anything. “How did he sound?”

“Grouchy, ma’am.” His attention remains on the road, his answers consistently clipped and to the point.

I sigh. “Damon, I realize I was stupid and I put your job in jeopardy, but—”

“My job is of no consequence to me. Your wellbeing, however, is. You are not beyond a dressing down. I don’t care who you are. Do not do it again. Understand?”

I slowly move back, my proverbial tail between my legs. Well, that told me. “Understand,” I murmur, smiling a little on the inside. He was worried. About me. Not about the King and his wrath, but me. “Josh went shooting today with the King.”

“I am aware, ma’am.”

“He’s trying to get into his good books. Do you think he can?”

Damon’s eyes jump to the mirror, and I can tell he’s smiling. “I think he can,” he says, surprising me and filling me with a little hope. His eyes return to the road, and he indicates, taking a right. “But as soon as His Majesty finds out that he has a motive, the good book will be snapped shut, probably with Josh’s neck in it.”

I slump in my seat. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“You’re welcome.”

There’s a few beats of silence as I think about everything I heard earlier today. “I overheard the King on the telephone this morning.” I try to sound nonchalant, casually toying with my phone, but I can sense Damon’s cautious stare. “He mentioned the banker. I can only assume he’s still trying to reach me, as the King told the person he was speaking with to get rid of him.”

“I believe he is a problem and does need to be dealt with.”

I nod, accepting his reply, concluding that Damon is abreast on all things concerning the banker. “So one can assume that the King really doesn’t know about Josh and me, because surely he’d be ordering that problem be dealt with, too. Plus, he took Josh shooting.”

“One can assume.”

“So who vandalized Josh’s suite?”

“I believe that’s a matter for Mr. Jameson’s team, ma’am.”

I hum my agreement, though it doesn’t stop my mind racing or my fingers strumming the leather armrest. I believe my relationship with Josh is still under wraps. This is good, because, as Josh said, it will be much better for my father to hear it from me. To see how much I want this. To hear the pleading in my voice. Not that I expect it will make much difference, but I am so willing to try. How did Josh get on today? What has the banker been up to now to warrant such fury from the King? No, wait. He was angry before he mentioned Gerry Rush. The letters. What letters? Davenport wasn’t in on the call, and I could tell he really wanted to be. Neither was he included in the meeting that followed. What if the King hasn’t summoned me at all? What if Davenport is being sly, wanting information out of me about that call I overheard? And who the hell trashed Josh’s hotel room? I groan, another wave of tiredness coming over me. “Can you put some music on, please?” I ask Damon, hoping to drown out the questions sending my mind into a spin.