The Controversial Princess (The Smoke & Mirrors Duology #1)(32)

He may well be ready for round two, but my body definitely isn’t. Call him? “I will do no such thing,” I say to my phone, deleting his message and holding it to my chest, thoughtful. I’m far from dissatisfied, and I’m a fool for trying to convince myself otherwise. “The brash, American idiot,” I mutter.



AFTER I’VE SHOWERED AND AM ready, I stand on the threshold of the dining room, gazing at the mess. Olive is on her hands and knees scrubbing at the antique rug, and various other household staff members are collecting up endless empty liquor bottles.

“Have fun?” Felix appears across the other side of the vast room, his journal resting on his forearm, his phone on top of it. The shine of his polished Italian loafers would probably blind me if my vision wasn’t so foggy from lack of sleep.

“I sense disapproval,” I breathe, going to my bag to reject the fifth call since I got out of the shower.

“Your senses serve you well, ma’am.” He sweeps an arm around the room, as if I could have missed the condition of the stately room. “And we have bodies, too.”

I look under the table where he’s pointing, seeing three men, all in army uniforms, sprawled out on the rug, unconscious. “Oh dear,” I muse, noting one of the stray bodies is the Prince himself. I scowl at his comatose form, making a mental note of his condition to hold it against him in future if he chooses to berate me on my inappropriate behavior.

“I have some calls to make,” Felix says, strutting toward the corridor of offices. “I trust I have no clearing up to do.” He looks over his shoulder at me, eyebrows high. “No calls from editors to prep for?”

“We were on our best behavior.”

“Looks like it.” Felix sniffs, taking one more despairing glance around the dining room before he disappears toward his office.

I wander over and poke Eddie’s thigh with the toe of my riding boot. “Wake up, sleepy head.”

He groans and blinks his eyes open, frowning when he catches sight of the underside of the table floating over his face. “What happened?” he croaks, struggling to pull himself up to his elbows.

“I would take an educated guess and say that you passed out, brother dearest.”

“Wow, that was wild,” he mumbles as he sits up, smacking his head on the table on a load thwack. “Shit.”

I laugh as Eddie rubs at his head and falls back to the rug. “I’m spending the day at the stables so I’ll see you later.”

“Oh, Spearmint. I forgot about your new man.”

I smile, proud as punch. “I’m certain it’s father’s way of bribing me. Why would he finally relent to my desire to dip a toe in the racing world when it has always been strictly for the males?”

“We both know the answer to that question.” Eddie gets onto his hands and knees and crawls from beneath the table, and I’m attacked by an onslaught of flashbacks. Me. Crawling to Josh. His wicked smile. His wicked touch. “Adeline?”

I jump, immediately looking to my wrists where they’re safely concealed under the sleeves of my black roll-neck sweater. “Sorry, I was daydreaming.” I turn and make a hasty getaway before my brother can quiz me about last night.

“Wait right there, Addy,” he orders, and I stop, scowling at my escape route. I hear his army boots treading the rug. “Where did you disappear to last night?”

I paint on a smile and turn to him. “I was rather sleepy, so I retired to my suite.”

One of his hazel eyes narrows, his lips twisting in contemplation. “It’s rather uncanny that a certain American disappeared around the same time as you, isn’t it?”

“I have no idea what you are insinuating, but I am offended.”

Eddie, quite rightly, scoffs. “You are not talking to Father now, little princess.”

“I’m not talking to anyone.” I march out, relieved to see Damon waiting for me by the car. “Thank you.” I slide into the back and let him shut the door, and though I know Eddie can’t see me through the blacked-out windows, I can see him, and he looks miffed. It is all his damn fault, anyway. Had he not invited Josh Jameson to my party, I would not currently be shifting in my seat trying to get comfortable on my sore bottom, and I also would not be at war in my mind, which is running riot trying to surmise exactly what that flutter in my tummy is every time I think of Josh. I mean, really? What has gotten into me? I should be repulsed by his treatment of me. Not fantasizing about enduring his kink all over again.

“Nice evening, ma’am?” Damon asks as he pulls out of the gates of the palace.

I glance up to the rearview mirror, finding my driver’s eyes on the road, where they should be, I suppose. It doesn’t stop the blush creeping into my cheeks, though. “Wonderful, thank you, Damon.”

His eyes flick to me, a definite knowing twinkle in them. “Glad to hear it, ma’am.” He’s saying something without really saying anything.

“You love his movies?” I mimic Damon’s words to Josh last night, cocking my head in mockery. “Really, Damon?”

His big shoulders shrug under his suit jacket. “The man has talent.”

Especially in his hands. “You have no idea,” I breathe.

“Pardon, ma’am?”

“Nothing.” I settle in my seat and focus on planning my day ahead in a vain attempt to stop my mind from wandering elsewhere.