The Controversial Princess (The Smoke & Mirrors Duology #1)(65)
For the first time in my life, I really, really like a man. And therefore, I’m anxious.
The doors open and Josh’s men lead the way, Damon by my side, and the rest of my close security a few steps behind. A door opens, and I instinctively lower my head when someone exits a room. Damon moves in closer to me, Josh’s men slow, and the men behind speed up, all of them closing me in, making it as difficult as possible for the bystander to see me. They disperse a little when we’re out of the danger zone, and we come to a stop at a door. A card is inserted into the reader, the door is opened, and I am ushered inside. Quickly removing my coat and glasses, I pat down my loose hair and turn to a nearby mirror, checking I look presentable and not crumpled. The Herve Leger off-the-shoulder gold bandage dress couldn’t possibly crease during the car ride here; there’s no spare or loose material to crease. My dark hair is fanning my bare shoulders, and my lips are nude. I feel lovely, and I chose this dress thinking Josh would very much approve, yet now, strangely, I’m doubting my choice. Nerves. It’s the nerves.
A cough has me startling and pivoting quickly, making my hair whip my face before coming to settle over one shoulder. “Holy fuckin’ shit.” Josh makes no bones about his pleasure, standing beyond all the men who accompanied me up here. His gaze takes its greedy time lazily dragging down my frame, before wandering back up, eventually arriving at my face. I’m relieved that he made as much effort as I did, with his well-worked physique dressed splendidly in a Wentworth-grey three-piece suit. I smile when I see his pink hanky stuffed in the breast pocket. His hair doesn’t look like it’s fully dried from his shower, and he hasn’t shaved. Oh, gosh, he looks unimaginably gorgeous, and tonight it is all for me.
“Thanks, guys,” Josh says, nodding to his men and shaking Damon’s hand. “I’ve got it from here.”
Damon casts a look over to me—a wary look. I don’t know what to say. Damon won’t go far, and I can’t expect him to stand in the corridor all evening, though I know he would without question.
Josh must see my conflict, as well as Damon’s uncertainty, because he is quick to reassure us. “There’s a room through there.” He motions to a door. “Play cards, chill out.”
I give Damon a thumbs up, happy he has somewhere comfortable to wait for me. “I will be fine.”
“I’ll look after her,” Josh slips in.
Damon laughs abruptly, holding his hands up as he backs away. “Too much information, my friend.”
And there go my cheeks again, bursting into flames. I can’t look at any of the men as they shift into the other room, Damon’s old friend from MI6 throwing his arm around Damon’s shoulders as they go, insisting on hearing everything that’s happened in his life since they last saw each other. Fifteen years’ worth? That could take a while.
“Let me,” Josh says, taking my coat from my hands. Then he stares at me, looking so content with what is before him. I can’t deny that I’m happy by the notion. No man has looked at me like this before, completely and unapologetically admiring me. Admiring me for being me. Not Princess Adeline. Just me.
He’s still admiring me a few seconds later, and I start to fidget. “What?” I ask, snapping him out of his reverie.
His gaze meets mine. “You look stunning. Fuckin’ beautiful.”
“Thank you,” I say quietly.
“I had planned on wooing you over dinner, but now …” He shakes his head to himself.
“Now what?”
“Well, now you’re standing here with that fuckin’ dress defining every curve I love, and I’m suddenly not too keen on the idea of dining you.” He tosses my coat on a nearby chair. “Come here.”
I step forward, and he seizes me with one easy arm curled around my back. Landing me with a hard, chaste kiss, he lifts me from my feet and carries me through the suite. “So we’re not eating?” I ask, smiling like a crazy woman against his lips.
“Oh, I’m eating, for sure.” He bites at my neck, and I squeal through a laugh, feeling my tight dress ride up my thighs. When we get into the lavish bedroom, Josh stops and looks up at me. My laughter fades as I stare into his serious eyes. “I’m fuckin’ starving,” he says quietly. “Starving for you, Adeline.” I smile a small smile, nodding a tiny bit, knowing he understands I feel the same about him. “And I’m worried,” he goes on, kissing my lips gently. “Because no matter how much I gorge on you, I don’t think the hunger will ever be curbed.”
I swallow, flicking my eyes briefly past him. “There will be no need for curbing if this fling gets out.”
“Fling?” Josh asks, tugging my face back to his. “Is that what this is?”
“It’s all it can be, right?” Finishing a statement with a question is never wise. It shows your uncertainty, your need for confirmation, your need to stop doubting what you think you know.
“Right,” Josh breathes, searching my eyes. The pain that cuts through my chest is unfamiliar. And I positively hate it.
“So let’s play.” I force the words out and fist his damp hair in my hands. “Sir.”
His growl is possessive. His expression hard. I’m dropped to my feet and the zip of my dress found with ease. Although he doesn’t yank it down like I expect. He inches it open slowly, breathing in my ear as he does. The side of my face nestles into him, electricity bolting through every nerve. Closing my eyes, I raise my hands and place them on his shoulders, my senses heightened by the sound of his light breath in my ear. His lips meet the hollow beneath my lobe, and he kisses his way down my neck, my head dropping back to give him full access to the column of my throat. I space out, lost, my body alive and hypersensitive.