of cheap chocolate—all the commercial bars and wacky flavours that had been long banned from her diet by that zealous palace physician.
‘No royal rules here,’ he’d teased. ‘And it’s treat night, right?’
The whole night had been a decadent, delicious, pure lustful treat. Now, her pulse lifted, her aching body still seeking more.
‘You must be used to getting breakfast in bed,’ he murmured.
‘I have a maid who brings me a coffee in the morning.’
‘With cream and sugar, right? I’ll get it.’
His warmth was gone before she had the chance to answer. She sat up. So it was over already?
For a panicked moment she couldn’t believe what she’d done. What if there were cameras outside? What if she was caught somehow and everyone found out?
Would it matter?
Her father wasn’t alive to judge or punish her. It wasn’t an external threat troubling her. It was Alvaro himself. How did she face the man who’d touched her with such profound intimacy? It had felt beyond physical.
It’s not.
She was feeling biochemistry—oxytocin, serotonin, dopamine. Her body’s biology was encouraging her to stay and mate again. All animal instinct. And that adrenalin fix? The rush of the unknown and the unexpected?
That was everything Alvaro had treated her to last night.
But it was over, and she needed to get out of there. Her composure was suddenly shockingly precarious and she’d never lost her composure before this week. She’d never lost her virginity either. Until Alvaro.
Memories swept over her, invoking a real, raw response from her body. She shivered. She couldn’t let him distract or delay her departure. Self-preservation insisted she end this now. If she stayed it would soon become a whole other day and a whole other night and that would become too intense. And impossible to walk away from. She couldn’t let that happen. It wasn’t what he wanted. Or what she wanted either.
She needed this time on her own. Wasn’t that why she was here?
She quickly hunted about for her panties and pulled on her slip before finding her way from his bedroom back to the kitchen—desperately scooping her black dress up off the floor from where they’d left it last night.
He’d glanced up as she walked in and put down the cup he was holding. A glint kindled in his eyes as he watched her back away with the crumpled dress in hand. ‘Not staying for coffee?’
Silently she shook her head. So awkwardly she darted back into the hallway and quickly pulled on her dress over her slip. She was desperate to escape.
‘So what now?’ he asked softly when she stepped back into the kitchen. ‘You’ve no more work to worry about. You’re free to do anything. What’s your plan?’
She didn’t really have one.
‘Neon lights?’ he prompted.
‘Sure.’ She’d focus on those external adventures. Seize on them as a means of avoiding the awkwardness rippling through her and that ache for intimacy welling inside. ‘Ice skating at the Rockefeller centre. Eating doughnuts or a pastry outside Tiffany’s or something, right? Times Square.’ But her smile slipped, and she scrambled to think of more. ‘Art galleries. All the exciting, fun things a tourist ought to do in New York in December.’
‘Sounds like you have quite the list.’
‘Yes.’ She was determined to make the most of every one of those iconic experiences too. ‘Christmas in New York—it’s my one and only chance.’
‘But isn’t Monrova all snow and sleighs and bells and warmly spiced Christmas baking?’
‘In some homes, I’m sure it is.’
‘But in the palace?’
‘Just another day. Normal lessons continued. There was no extended family gathering. I had dinner with my father in the dining room as I did every night. And received the usual lectures.’
‘But last night you told me you were spoilt.’
‘I was. Just not especially at any of those kinds of things. So this year, this once, I want the full Christmas.’
He blinked. ‘The full Christmas? What even is that?’
‘I don’t really know.’ She began to smile. ‘Like something from the movies?’
His jaw dropped. ‘The movies?’
‘Yeah, you know. All those good ones where people go the extra mile to find that one perfect present for their child, or they get through the snowstorm against all the odds to be with their loved ones...’
‘It’s not really like that, Jade.’
‘No?’ She glanced at him.
‘Those movies make you think everyone is having the best time. They’re not. I don’t think anyone is.’
‘No?’ What had Christmas been like for him?
‘Never. People set their expectations way too high. It’s distant family stuck together for too long, drinking too much, and