The Controversial Princess (The Smoke & Mirrors Duology #1)(124)

This is the calm before the storm.





WHEN I OPEN MY EYES the next morning, it’s dusk, a glow from the television illuminating the room. My body is toasty warm, my mind peaceful, and my head is rising and falling in time with Josh’s breathing beneath my cheek. The expanse of his chest is before me, my hand resting on his pec, my leg tossed over his thighs. I crane my neck up, finding him looking down at me, his back resting against the headboard. “You comfy down there?” He dips and gives my head a chaste kiss as my limbs start to involuntarily spread, stretching wonderfully.

“Oh, God,” I groan, every muscle pulling satisfyingly. “What time is it?”

“Seven.” He shuffles down the bed, maneuvering my body as he does until we’re on our sides, face to face.

“Why is the television on?”

His lips purse, a grin in hiding. “I heard there’s some breaking news on the horizon.”

The press release. My tummy flutters, part nerves, part excitement, as my eyes divert from Josh to the television where BBC news is Josh’s channel of choice. It’s so utterly ridiculous that two people dating is deemed news worthy. “Do we know when this news might break?”

“I can’t imagine it’ll be long before the media goes into meltdown.” Placing his hand on my naked hip, he flexes his grip, winning back my attention. “You’re nervous.”

I’m quick to set him straight. “Mostly, I’m excited. Just to know there will be no more sneaking around. I’m not nervous about the reaction of the world, more the retaliation of my family.”

Josh smiles, though small and understanding. “We haven’t discussed what will happen once the dust settles.”

“If it ever settles,” I mumble, taking my praying hands and nestling them under my cheek on the pillow.

“It will settle.” A little squeeze of my hip is a warning to have a little more faith. “And then we need to think about what happens from there.”

“What do you mean?”

He rolls his eyes, a little exasperated. “It may have escaped your notice, but I’m not from around these parts.”

“Oh,” I breathe, feeling a bit silly. The logistics of our relationship haven’t cost me a thought, when it really should have cost me plenty. “Well, clearly you have thought about it.”

“Not stopped,” he admits unashamedly.

“And?”

“And I want you in the States with me. Everywhere with me, actually. Wherever I go, I want you by my side.”

That sounds just about perfect, even if it is unrealistic. “You realize the logistics of that would be near-on impossible?”

“Why?”

“Because you are you and I am me. Not to mention the fact that I am likely to be stripped of all privileges, and that will include my allowances and security.” The consequences of my relationship with Josh don’t bother me in the slightest, but it isn’t until this moment that I have considered the strain it might have on Josh. The financial strain especially, because I sure as hell know that protection doesn’t come cheap. I roll onto my back, feeling myself deflating.

A low growl rumbles up from his toes, and he’s on me quickly, scowling. “Stop that.”

“I never—” A firm palm lands over my mouth.

“One more word out of you, you’ll regret it.” Tilting his head, eyes full of annoyance, he slowly peels his hand away. “Understood?”

“Understood.” I’m ready to ask exactly how I might regret it—I need details—but I get distracted by the TV. I hear the mention of the Royals, and Josh must catch it too, because he catapults up, facing the screen. My damn heart is in my throat as I sit up, my hand searching for Josh’s to hold. This is it. D-Day, so to speak. The world will know about Josh and me dating.

But I frown when the scene on the television registers, the journalist not in a TV studio like I would have expected, but outside instead, in what looks like the English countryside. There are no pictures of me or of Josh. It’s the King of England’s face displayed in the top right-hand corner of the screen, on the day of his coronation. What’s going on?

I sit forward, listening carefully, as the reporter signals behind him. “It’s reported that the helicopter experienced a mechanical fault mid-flight and came down in the fields beyond the trees late last night.” I frown as the camera zooms in on those trees, panning the far side of the field. “The King was on his way back to London from his royal residence in Scotland.” My heart is suddenly a rock in my chest. “He was confirmed dead at the scene.”

A violent wail saturates the room, and it takes a few confusing seconds for me to realize where it has come from.

Me.

“Fuckin’ hell.” Josh grabs me quickly, pushing my shaking body into his chest, shouting above my head. “Tammy!” He gets a robe around me, fastening it loosely before he pulls his boxers on, reclaiming me. “Tammy!”

I can hear the reporter talking still, telling the world that King Alfred is dead. My father is dead. No. No, that can’t be. It must be a sick hoax. I wrestle my way out of Josh’s hold, my vision hampered by floods of tears. I roughly brush them away, getting to my feet and approaching the television. Josh is behind me quickly, trying to pull my vibrating form back to the bed. I fight him with all I have. “Get off me,” I yell, shoving him away.