The Controversial Princess (The Smoke & Mirrors Duology #1)(60)

“Everything okay, ma’am?”

“What is he doing here?” I ask through gritted teeth, my panic rising when I see Josh breaking through the crowds, leaving a sea of frowning people in his wake.

“Your guess is as good as mine, ma’am,” Damon says. “And my guess is pretty good.”

I flip him an incredulous look. He’s doing a terrible job of concealing his smile. “Funny ha ha,” I mutter indignantly.

“Am I the only one who knows of your numerous meetings with Mr. Jameson?” Damon asks out the corner of his mouth.

“Matilda does. But only you and her, and let’s please keep it that way.”

“Of course.”

Josh saunters over, his gait confident and smooth, his face wickedly handsome. He’s all smart casual in a suit, opened collared shirt, no tie. Damn his gorgeousness. “Your Highness,” he purrs, bowing his head only a very little. That accent, the way he says the words I hate. It reduces me to a pool of want every time. It’s like a shot of adrenalin that wakes up my entire body.

I’m aware that everyone in the room is looking this way, to the Hollywood actor and the Princess conversing. What is he playing at? I offer my hand and plaster on my smile, though it takes everything out of me. I’ve been captured off guard. I’m unprepared. “Mr. Jameson, what a pleasure to meet you.” My vocal chords tremble.

His smile is knowing as he kisses the back of my hand. “Always,” he whispers, and my tummy tightens as I feel his hot, wet tongue meet my skin.

I snatch my hand back and fight my eyes not to widen, looking to Gary, who looks a little shell-shocked by the appearance of Josh Jameson in his gallery. The media attention he has already will be amazing for his project. Now, it will be extraordinary.

Scanning my surroundings, I see clusters of people talking between themselves, though their attention is never far away from Josh and me. Kim eyes me curiously, and Damon steps back, giving us space that I really don’t want. Not now. Not here. I don’t search out Eddie. I don’t need to see him to know he’ll be keeping a close eye.

I turn and wander over to the nearby sculpture of a naked woman, the one I was planning on purchasing. It is minimal, only the outline of her long, willowy body detectable. As I knew he would, Josh joins me and also feigns admiring the art.

“You’ve been ignoring my calls.”

“Correct.”

“Why?”

“There is no one special.” I repeat the words he spoke in the interview without thought, and quickly close my eyes, full of regret. I have seen him only a few times. Of course I am no one special.

“You wanted me to declare to the world that I’m seeing you?”

“No, because you are not.” I brush him off with my strongest voice, however weak I feel inside. “You realize pictures of us will be splattered all over the media tomorrow,” I say quietly, disturbed by this stupid stunt of his.

“I’m buying art. Nothing unusual. Besides, I arrived separately so there will be no pictures of us together.”

“Josh Jameson showing up to a gallery opening unannounced isn’t unusual?” I laugh at his stupidity. “The media will be going wild.”

“Talking of the media …”

My eyes start to burn from staring at the same spot on the sculpture, where Josh’s hand is now resting. That hand. That wicked, talented hand. Talking of the media. I don’t say a word, leaving Josh to press on.

“So the night I fucked you blind, you had another man’s lips on yours before mine?”

I swallow and blink slowly. “What of it?”

“What of it?” He laughs, running his hand across the hips of the woman. “For a start, if I had known, I would have whipped that beautiful ass of yours a lot fuckin’ harder.”

I inhale, shocked, and scan the vicinity for prying eyes and ears. We are safe, but still. I clear my throat and search for calm. “I think it’s time you looked around the gallery that you’re apparently rather interested in.”

“There’s only one thing in this gallery that I’m interested in.”

My mind reels. He’s changed his tune. A flash of satisfaction darts through me, but I am quick to rein it in, reminding myself of why Josh and I are never going to happen. My life. His boredom levels. “Well, that one thing is not interested in you.”

“Why are you denying me?”

“If I don’t, then they will.” My thoughts tumble from my mouth, and I feel his eyes on my profile as I mentally run through every reason why I need to keep myself away from Josh Jameson. There are too many, not least the fact that I get that wonderful feeling of freedom and relief whenever I’m with him. Like now. There’s an army of people and press outside, crowds of people behind us, yet I hear none of them. I see none of them. I sense nothing except Josh. It’s wonderfully therapeutic, like nothing I have felt before. It’s also something I must not get used to.

A loud cough startles me back to the here and now, where Josh is standing next to me caressing a sculpture of a naked woman.

His hand pauses, his leather shoes bringing him a step closer to me. “You’re imagining me doing this to you, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I breathe the word out mindlessly. Instinctively. I look at him as he looks down at me, his face expressionless. “But it can’t happen again.” I turn and walk away, being immediately collared by a smiley man.