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Authors: MaryJanice Davidson

BOOK: The Royal Mess
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Chapter 39
“N
icole?”
“Mmmmm?”
“You have to go.”
She stretched, then curled back against him like a sleepy kitten. “Too tired.”
He stroked her hair, running his fingers through the silky strands. He was still having trouble digesting the events of the past forty minutes.
Nicole—the Princess—had snuck out. Again. Had come to him. Tried to persuade him to the absurd notion that this week she wasn't royalty and he wasn't a bodyguard. And then she'd—and then he'd—
But she was still here. And that was a problem.
No, it wasn't.
Yes, it was.
“Nicole.” He shook her gently. “You have to get dressed. I have to take you back. If they notice you're gone, everyone will go right out of their minds.”
She yawned, rolled over, and stroked his penis, which went from sleepy to extremely interested in about two seconds. “So? Oh, hey, is this for me?”
He gritted his teeth and pulled away from her. “You'd frighten your family just to get laid again?”
She jerked away from him and sat up. “They don't feel like my family,” she said sullenly. “My mother was my family. My father was just a two-week party for her.”
“Even so.” He rose, strapped on his wristwatch, then walked around the room gathering the clothes that hadn't been ruined. “Get dressed.”
“That's it? You fuck me—”
“I think you fucked me.”
“—and then kick me out? Jeffrey, your pillow talk
sucks
.” “Sucks” was punctuated as she hurled a pillow at his chest.
“You have to go back,” he said stonily, ignoring the inner voice that begged to differ. Ignoring the urge to take her back to bed and never, ever let her go. “Right now. We're done talking about it.”
“Damn right we are,” she hissed, and climbed out of his bed.
He tried to help her with her clothes, but she slapped his hands away and nearly burned his eyes out of his skull with the force of her glare.
He drove her back, his heart growing heavier the closer they got to the palace. She was fuming in the passenger seat, arms folded over her chest, scowling at the road.
He got her as close as he could to her suite without actually driving across the lawn. As she got out, he leaned over and said, “Don't do this again, Nicole.”
“Don't . . .
worry
!” “Worry” was punctuated with the door slamming.
He rested his head on the steering wheel, and it was a good five minutes before he could turn the car around.
Chapter 40
N
icole found her way into the palace via a little-used servants' entrance. Oh, Nicky's digital map had been a godsend. She was able to slip inside and make it back to her suite in fifteen minutes.
Where an astonished Natalia watched her approach her own closed door. “Your Highness! I didn't—what are you—how did you—?”
“Some things,” she said, her body still tingling from Jeffrey's urgent touch, “will never be told.”
“But how did you—”
“Good night, Natalia.”
The blonde bowed. “Highness.”
Nicole shut the door behind her, taking in the three-room suite at a glance. Private bathroom, sitting room decorated in shades of gold and red, deluxe bedroom decorated in gold and blue. Stuffed with furniture so old and expensive she was afraid to use any of it.
Except the bed. The bed might be an antique four poster, too, but it was sturdy enough. And a good thing, too, because she had every intention of throwing herself on it and crying for an hour or so.
Chapter 41
E
xhausted from a sleepless night and too tired for breakfast, Nicole staggered into the hall outside her room.
Natalia bowed. “Good morning, Your Highness.”
“Oh, God. Cof—” Natalia was already handing her a cup. “Natalia, whoever programmed you did a helluva job.”
Natalia didn't twitch. “Yes, Highness. The king would like to see you, Highness.”
“I gotta see the king? Now? Great. I have no friggin' idea how to get there from here.”
“
You
don't, Highness?”
Nicole stared at her bodyguard suspiciously. Natalia didn't blink. In fact, Nicole's eyes were watering with sympathy as the seconds ticked by and Natalia still didn't blink. “You got something on your mind, Natalia?”
“Certainly not, Highness.”
“Well, super. You mind walking me over there?”
“Not at all, Highness.” The blonde tapped her earpiece. “Hunter to see Warrior.”
“How too fucking G.I. Joe,” she muttered.
“Thank you, Highness.”
A few minutes later, they were in the hallway outside the king's office. She was pretty sure. All the damn hallways looked the same to her.
A man she'd never seen was leaning on the wall, arms crossed, but he stood straight and tall when she approached, then bowed.
“Hi.”
“Your Highness.”
“I'm supposed to talk to the king.”
“Yes, Princess Nicole, he's expecting you.”
“Handing off Hunter,” Natalia said with cool formality.
“Acknowledged. Go get an early lunch, Natty.”
“Sir. Highness.”
“Handing off?” she asked the man. He sure didn't look like a bodyguard: slim, shorter than she was, soberly dressed, small hands. He looked like he was Edmund's assistant or something. “What am I, a relay baton?”
He smiled. “Hardly, Princess.” He touched his index finger to the corner of his left eyebrow. “Have a nice day.”
She rapped on the door with her knuckles and at the harried, “Come in, quick!” opened the door and walked in.
The king was on his feet, staring anxiously over her shoulder. “Are you alone? Is she out there?”
“Yes. Who?”
“The Dragon! I know she's lurking around here somewhere, just waiting to—never mind.”
“Well, she isn't lurking in the corridor. Are you okay? You look a little stressed.”
“Stressed,” he mumbled, “is not the word. You're sure nobody's out there?”
“Just some guy I never saw before. What can I do for you, Al?”
“Aw, come on, kiddo.” He slumped back into his chair. “Is ‘Dad' so hard? Pop? Papa?”
She yawned and sat across from him. “Is that why you called me up here?”
“No, you look like shit.”
“Is
that
why—”
“Naw, naw.” He waved away her irritation. “Just an early morning observation.”
“Well, thanks so much. You're not exactly looking your best, either.”
“I'm in the best shape of any one of you guys,” the king bragged.
“You'd have to be,” she admitted, “to run this funny farm.”
“If you're having trouble sleeping, maybe you should see Doc Hedman. Alexandria was having terrible insomnia a couple years ago and he was able to help her out. This was before she got married to Sheldon.”
“That's it!” she cried, and was surprised when the king flinched. She didn't think he
could
flinch. “Sheldon Rivers. That's the American who married Alexandria. She's with him now, right? At some aquarium or whatever?”
“Yeah, and he didn't marry her, she married him.”
“You say tomato, I say toe-maw-toe. Anyway, it was driving me nuts, trying to remember another relative's name. You're a big bunch to keep track of.”
“What can I say, I'm a fertile son of a bitch.”
She covered her eyes. “Please, Al. I'm begging you. We're headed for overshare country.”
He laughed. He had a great laugh, booming and kingly. She looked up at him and smiled in spite of herself. Then took a closer look and lost her smile. “You look more than a little stressed. Is everything all right?”
“No, but it's nothing for you to worry about. I called you up here for two things—thanks for coming so quickly, by the way. Thing one, how are you doing? Do you need anything? To put it another way—”
“Thanks, because English is my ninth language.”
“—shaddup—are you not getting something you need?”
“The food's great, everybody's nice, I don't need anything.”
“Because speaking of Sheldon, you might want to talk to him. The last thing that guy ever wanted was to be a prince. But he sucked it up. And you think Christina wanted to be the Queen of Alaska? Ever? You could learn a lot from those two weirdos.”
“Thanks. I'll keep it in mind.” She sipped her coffee.
“We were, ah, surprised when you didn't dine with us.”
“I needed some time alone.” In fact, she'd skipped the dinner with Christina, too, and felt horribly guilty. Well, she'd track her down today and apologize.
She leaned forward, rattled by the hurt look in his eyes. That's all she seemed to do these days: hurt the men in her life. “You gotta try to understand, Al. It was me and mom, and then it was me. I fish and hunt for a living. I like the quiet. I love the solitude. And here, I don't have either. I didn't think it was possible to feel claustrophobic in here, but I do. I really do.”
“Sweetie, how can we do better?”
“That's a nice offer, but it's me, not you guys. I'm the one who has to adjust. I'm the one who has to change. I wouldn't have sat for the DNA test if I wasn't reconciled to that. And none of it's your fault.”
“It could be argued that all of it's my fault.” She opened her mouth, but he rushed forward. “Nicole, I friggin' hate seeing you unhappy.”
“Well, it's not much fun on this end, either.” But she took the sting out of her words with a small grin. “You said you had two reasons.”
“Yeah, you've really got a gift. I've been reading some of the scripts you've—”
“No!” she practically screamed. Al reared back in his chair. “Oh, God, tell me,
tell me
you didn't read any of the dreck I wrote for Hollywood.”
“But you saved a bunch of movies!
Killing Cardinals
had a totally different, sucky ending according to the trades. And you single-handedly rescued the dialogue for
I'm Okay, You're Insane
.”
“It's just to pay the bills, Al. It's not art.”
“Well, I thought it was pretty nifty, swifty.”
“God, the humiliation never stops around here, does it?”
“Guess not. You know, if you ever thought about writing a book . . .”
A book. A fishing guide. Her mother's story.
Her
story. Sure, she'd thought about it. But who had the time?
“You're not implying I'd have all this leisure time to write, are you?”
“I'm just saying. If it's something you wanted to do, there's not much in your way. It's not like you have to spend your creativity fixing other people's words. Not anymore.”
She raised her eyebrows. “That's . . . an interesting perspective.”
“I got tons of perspective,” he bragged. “I got it running out of me like . . . stuff that runs out of me. By the way, three American movie studios have called here looking for you. They want to buy the rights to your story.”
“Oh, sure. When I was a lonely hack they wouldn't return my calls. Now they want to toss money at me and make a movie out of my life. Pass.” She rose from her seat. “Still, you've given me something to think about.”
“I'm good at shit like that,” he said, lacing his fingers beside his head. “G'wan, get out of here.”
“Later, Al.”
“Wait!” He was leaning forward in his chair and looking anxious. “Look first and tell me; is the Dragon out there?”
Nicole opened the door and checked both ends of the corridor, waving to the short bodyguard. Then she went back inside. “Coast is clear.”
“Great. I'm dying for some scrambled eggs. Had a conference call so I didn't eat with the kids today.”
“Well.” She took a deep breath. “I haven't eaten yet. We could eat together. Unless it's a working breakfast or—”
“No, no, no! It's not a working breakfast. Yeah, that'd be great. Come on, I'll show you one of the prettiest rooms in the palace.”
“Don't you have to sign bills into law or something?”
“Fuck it.”
“You're an inspiration to us all,” she said dryly. “I assume this means that when I'm queen, I can constantly blow off my work.”
“What do I care? I'll be worm food by then. Come on, let's get out of here before Edmund brings me more work.”
“That bastard,” she agreed, and followed him out the door.

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