The Controversial Princess (The Smoke & Mirrors Duology #1)(45)

“Yes, ma’am. It appears Mr. Rush has been enjoying some extracurricular activity.” Something in the way that Felix speaks tells me that I am not the extracurricular activity he’s referring to.

“But not from me?”

Felix hands me a file, and I open it to find some photographs. “What is this?” I ask, flicking through, trying to make something out in the darkened shots.

Kim reaches forward and takes a photo, turning it the right way up. I still at the sight of what is all of a sudden a perfectly clear image. Too clear. “That, ma’am, is Gerry Rush in the throes of passion.”

Yes, isn’t it just. His face is strained, his body rigid, as he holds on to a woman’s hips who’s bent over a chair. My heart jumps too many beats as I pull the picture closer, trying to make out the woman’s face.

“It’s a prostitute, ma’am,” Kim tells me matter-of-factly, and I look at her, unable to be relieved that it isn’t me. She steps back, as if nervous.

“What?” I drop the file, retracting my hands to my chest. “A hooker? When was this?” I suddenly want a shower.

“A few weeks ago, ma’am. We thought you should know in case—”

“In case what? I choose to see him again?” I laugh, thinking these two should know me better. “I can assure you, that is not going to happen.” I look at the pictures on a grimace as Kim gathers them up. “Not after I saw the picture of him with his wife, and especially not now.”

“Just needed to be sure,” Kim says, tucking them away.

I don’t understand. Gerry Rush is a respected man, with kids and a gleaming reputation. If he doesn’t back off and stop trying to reach me, I just know those pictures will make it onto the desk of some editor at some tabloid in London. He will be ruined. Where’s his sense? Then again, he took me back to his hotel room and has been trying to contact me. Clearly he has no sense. I know better than to ask how Felix got hold of those photographs. That won’t be information I will be privileged with. A hooker?

My lip curls. “Do whatever it takes to get rid of him,” I order, swinging around and marching away, shuddering as I go. The dirty, rotten womanizer. A hooker. So much for clean-cut image. He wants to see me? Bewitched? The nerve.

My thoughts trail off and my pace slows as I catch sight of Stan trotting up the lane with Josh, both of them a little out of breath. All agitation eating me alive melts away at the sight of Josh’s smile when he spots me. When he slows to a walk, I give him wide eyes, discreetly flicking my head in an indication that he should be wary of the people in close proximity.

“Your Highness,” he greets me rather formally, yet those words and his accent, in his voice, still caress my tingling skin.

“Mr. Jameson.” I nod as he passes, heading straight for the stable block.

I let Felix and Kim pull away before I wander in after Josh to help him strip Stan down of his saddlery. He is nearly done by the time I make it to him. “He’s worked up a good sweat,” I say as I take a brush to Stan’s coat.

“He’s had an awesome time, haven’t ya, boy?” Josh lightly smacks his neck. “Are you okay? You look … stressed.”

“I’m fine.”

“So your people were here for their health, were they? Because they didn’t look like the riding type.”

“Small matter now dealt with.”

“A matter like you and I could be?” he asks casually, clearly reading between the lines and getting the gist of my small matter.

Shame eats me from the inside out, remorse and guilt, too. Why do I care what Josh thinks of my exploits? He is hardly Mr. Straight-laced himself, dating woman after woman and getting bored. Besides, it’s not like I knew Gerry Rush and his wife were trying to reconcile, or that he dabbled in hookers. I shudder at the thought again. “It was a family matter,” I lie, if hesitantly, earning a quick flick of Josh’s eyes to mine. I look away, feeling my cheeks heat with guilt. “Did you enjoy your hack?”

“I did. Thanks for lending me your horse.” He smiles, looping Stan’s tack over his shoulder.

“Anytime.” I shrug nonchalantly, although I don’t feel very nonchalant. Not at all. Damn it, I like him. Josh Jameson brings a smile to my face, calm into my world. Few people in my orbit elicit such reactions. Inside, I wish he could turn up at the stables every morning and make each day wonderful.

His phone rings and he pulls it out. He definitely deflates a little. “Yeah?” He starts to pace the stables, scuffing his boots as he goes, kicking up the hay. “Sure. Give me five.” He cuts the call and holds up his phone. “My driver’s here.” He looks at his watch and laughs a little. “Early.”

I force back my disappointment. “It was nice to see you.”

He seems amused as he returns his eyes to me. “Nice to see me?”

I shrug. “Well, it was.”

“Nice?” He paces forward, and I step back until I collide with a pile of hay and tumble to my back on a yelp. Josh is on me like a wolf, pinning me down by my wrists above my head. “Nice?” he asks again, pushing a lock of hair from my face with his nose. I try to catch my breath, loving the hardness of his physique pushing me into the softness of the hay. Before I can even think to find another word to replace the one that clearly displeases him, he attacks my mouth with a profound, familiar force, exploring deeply with his tongue. I wonder whether his suspicions regarding my matter has him all green-eyed and he’s marking his territory. I have a sneaky suspicion I’m right.