Tangled Games (Dating Games #5) - T.K. Leigh Page 0,39

despite the uncertain road we’re about to embark on.

“What can I say? You give damn good head, gorgeous.”

She seals her mouth over mine, her tongue teasing, giving me a taste of exactly what she can do with that tongue on other parts of my body. “Likewise…” Pulling back, she smirks. “Gorgeous,” she adds, mimicking my accent to the best of her ability.

When the SUV comes to a stop in front of a brick row house across from one of the many canals snaking through the capital city, Nora peers out the window.

“No gated drive or elaborate palace for Esme?” she asks as Creed slides out of the SUV.

“Her formal residence has all of that.”

“Formal residence? Then where are we?”

“Somewhere she goes to escape it all.”

Nora’s door opens, and Creed helps her find her footing. When I step out, I glance up and down the quiet street to make sure no one is around to catch a glimpse of us. As expected, I notice a few dark SUVs at either entrance of the block, preventing vehicular and pedestrian traffic from coming this way for the few seconds it takes us to go from the SUV and up the front steps of Esme’s townhouse.

“I’ll keep an eye on things,” Creed tells me. “Call when you’re ready to leave.”

“Thank you.”

“Enjoy your evening, Your Highness.” He bows, then looks to Nora. “My lady.”

“Creed.”

He remains in place, as he’s been trained. It’s not until I punch a code into the keypad by the front door and it opens that he retreats.

“That’s going to take some getting used to,” Nora mumbles under her breath as we step inside the house, closing the door behind us.

“What is?”

“Everyone calling me ‘my lady’.” She plays up the British in her intonation.

“You won’t have to get used to it for long,” a familiar voice says.

We look toward the doorway off the foyer where my sister stands wearing a pair of ripped, skinny jeans and a billowy blouse. It’s a complete one-eighty from the put-together princess she was earlier today.

“In a few weeks, they’ll be calling you ‘Your Highness’. Then in a few years, it’ll be ‘Your Majesty’.” She approaches, pulling Nora in for a tight hug. “How are you handling everything?” Her concern is clear.

“Good.”

“Good.” Esme smiles, then looks at me, jabbing my chest. “It’s your job to make sure she stays good. Got it?”

“Got it,” I reply with a roll of my eyes, feigning annoyance.

“Because you’ll have me to answer to if you don’t. And you don’t want that.” She winks and offers me her cheek for a kiss. “Come on. We need to introduce Nora to the people who will remind her she’s normal.”

I grab Nora’s hand and follow my sister into the open living area. Five familiar people sit on the various couches and chairs, sipping cocktails and enjoying a lively conversation.

When we enter, they all stop, glancing in our direction.

“It’s about time you got here, you wanker,” a man says, standing and heading toward us.

“Good to see you, too, Marius,” I chuckle as he pulls me in for a quick hug. He’s a tad shorter than me, but still has an impressive physique. After all, he does have Norwegian roots. Most Nords I’ve met are exactly like Marius — tall, blond, and can drink you under the table.

“It’s not like you announced your engagement today or anything.” He winks, then turns to Nora. “This must be your blushing bride-to-be.”

“Marius Erling, this is Nora Tremblay. Nora, this is a dear friend of mine, Marius. And also Esme’s…” I trail off, not sure what to call him. I’m not sure boyfriend is appropriate here. They have an understanding. And when they’re not “understanding” each other, as Esme puts it, they’re simply friends. According to the rest of the country, however, they’re dating. Trying to explain this to an outsider really emphasizes how fucked up my world can be.

“That pretty much covers it. I’m Esme’s. Congratulations on your engagement.” Marius kisses Nora’s cheek in greeting.

If Nora’s surprised by this development, considering she’s more than aware of Creed and Esme’s history, she doesn’t show it.

“Thank you,” she replies.

“Although I should probably be thanking the two of you.”

“Why’s that?” she asks.

“Now we’re off the hook.” He gestures between himself and Esme as she approaches with a few rocks glasses filled with sparkling water, handing them to Nora and me. “Before your…unexpected announcement, your father’s dolt of a head of household and chief council, Dalton Peel, tried to convince us to announce