The Controversial Princess (The Smoke & Mirrors Duology #1)(19)

“Eddie invited him, apparently.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. It’s not like I need help to get me sent to The Tower, is it?”

“What happened with the guy and the phone? What if he got pictures, Adeline?” Matilda’s panic is sobering her up too fast for my liking.

“Calm down. Damon and Eddie took care of it. The phone has been destroyed.”

“But—”

“It’s fixed,” I assure her assertively, putting pressure on the base of her bottle to lift it to her mouth. “Drink and enjoy.”

I’m suddenly hauled back by an arm around my waist, and I gasp, my eyes wide. “Where were we?” Giles’s lusty voice in my ear does nothing for me now, and I know it’s because another man is in the room hunting me.

“Not now.” I shrug him off and throw myself into Matilda, swapping positions so I am out of Giles’s reach, dancing at a safe distance from him. My gaze catches Josh’s as I spin on the spot, taking mild pleasure from the flash of displeasure that blazes his features, making them dark for a brief moment.

“Off with your head,” Matilda sings, throwing her head back on a laugh. “I love it.”

I smile, strained, remembering the words Josh spoke to me yesterday, the ripple of naughty pleasure that coursed through me too fast to stop. It makes me uncomfortable. I need air, the room suddenly suffocating me.

“I need a cigarette,” I tell Matilda, slipping down from the table, unable to remain under the fixed glare of Josh Jameson any longer. My cousin doesn’t miss me for long, soon distracted by Giles, who is over his loss of me and onto the next willing female. I slide out of the room by the doors at the other end, scooping up a half-empty bottle of Belvedere on my way. I wander through the empty lounge to the foyer to let Damon know I’m heading out for a sneaky cigarette.

“Hey,” I call, grabbing his attention. My head of security frowns at me as he pushes his back from the doorframe and strides toward me, his worn-in face questioning. “Got any smokes?” I ask on a sickly sweet smile.

He rolls his eyes. “I quit.”

“Liar.” I help myself to his inside pocket when he makes it to me, finding a pack of Marlboro Lights. “Lighter?”

“You quit, too.”

“Don’t nag me, Damon,” I moan, walking with him to the French doors through the library. “Father always has a cigar hanging out of his mouth.”

“Kings smoking Cubans is customary.” He opens the door and lets me pass, but not before taking my vodka and setting it on a cabinet.

“Maybe I’m establishing my own customs.” I smile as I slip a cigarette between my lips and offer Damon the open packet.

On a shake of his head, he pulls one free before popping them back into his pocket and lighting mine then his. I draw in a long drag and let a plume of smoke spill on a satisfied exhale. “Oh, that is so good.”

“Princesses shouldn’t smoke, ma’am.” Damon takes his own hit of nicotine. “Mind you, they also shouldn’t throw wild parties, get steaming drunk, and screw bankers and actors.”

“I have not screwed the actor,” I correct him. “Just for the record.”

“Yet,” he adds cheekily.

I narrow my eyes playfully on him. “And I won’t be.” Of that, I am certain. “You should head off, anyway. I’ll be fine for the rest of the evening.”

“If it’s all the same to you, ma’am, I think I’ll stay.”

“Isn’t Mandy waiting for you?” Damon’s wife is as lovely as her husband, so laid-back, she is virtually horizontal.

“We have date night tomorrow night.” He smiles, almost shyly. “Because you have no plans for tomorrow evening, right? So I don’t need to be here. Correct?”

“Right. And what does one do on date night?” I raise my chin and bring my cigarette to my mouth again, as Damon shifts awkwardly on his black shiny shoes.

“That, ma’am”—he reaches forward with his spare hand and taps the end of my nose—“is top secret.”

“But I’m marvelously good at keeping secrets.”

“No, Felix and the PR team are marvelously good at keeping secrets for you.”

I pout, with no argument coming to me. Damon is right. They are wizards at keeping things contained and away from the press, but not so much from my father. Not that I’m ashamed of myself, but the earache from the hierarchy is utterly boring. To them, I am an out-of-control headache. Regardless, spending a night with a man would not be deemed disgraceful and newsworthy if I were a regular thirty-year-old woman. But I am not. The self-reminder makes my face screw up.

“Oh, okay, keep your secret.” I sniff, marveling in the calming powers of the nicotine as I take another draw, as well as the calming powers of my beloved Damon. I’m so lucky to have him. “It’s frightfully chilly this evening.”

“Would you like my jacket, ma’am?” Damon holds his cigarette between his lips and starts to pull off his suit coat.

I reach for him and rest my hand on his arm, stopping him. “No, but thank you.”

“Glad to have Prince Eddie home?”

“Delighted. I do so miss him when he is gone.”