Royal Watch (Royal Watch #1) - Stacey Marie Brown Page 0,76

grasp it and slide over the edge.

He slumped back into the pillows. “Holy shite,” he breathed, his eyes finding mine. “Damn. That was…” He blinked, not finding any words beyond that.

A smile inched up my lips. Leaning over, I kissed him before sliding off, reaching for my sweater.

“Where are you going?” He grabbed for my arm, tugging me back.

“I don’t know.” I paused, not sure why my first reaction was to get dressed.

“I practically blacked out, and you’re already getting dressed?” He laughed, pulling me into his side, kissing me. “That was bloody brilliant, Spence… seriously. Wasn’t expecting you to be such a little demon in bed. Now I’m really hitting myself for waiting so long.”

Demon?

Funny. That was what I had felt like. Possessed. Searching for something. Still could feel the buzz rocking around inside my chest.

“Was it just as amazing for you?” He breathed in my ear, not really a question, his hand grazing over my belly, moving down.

“Yeah,” I lied, pinning a smile on my face, kissing him. It wasn’t his fault. My head was not completely in the game.

“I love you.”

“Love you too.” I snuggled into his arm. I did. That was no question.

But I knew the resolutions I sought had not been found.

Chapter 21

My mobile buzzed in my hand for the third time that morning, Landen’s name scrolling at the top.

“You can call him back.” Chloe plucked the cell out of my hand, handing it to my newly acquired assistant behind me.

“Bu-but…” I tried to reach back for my phone, my legs moving quickly down the hallway, trying to keep up with her. “It’s Landen.”

“You can talk to him later. Right now, you are late for a fitting. The king’s birthday is next week, as you know, probably watching it on telly since you were little.” Stab. “It’s the event of the year, and we are late getting your dress tailored.”

I pinched my mouth, picking up my pace. Landen would understand. It wasn’t even like I had time for my own mother’s calls lately.

Two months had passed since my shelter debacle, and I still felt like I was being punished by the PR team. Chloe said they moved on, but she still treated me like a child. Against the rules, usually waiting until Theo and I would be engaged, she had me take on a personal assistant early.

Heidi. Young. Smart. But as uptight and controlling as Chloe, her personality hidden behind ordering me around and being constantly on me for something.

Sometimes that meant getting me up at dawn to work out, part of my new “stay thin” agenda at the prison—I mean palace.

I disliked her. A lot.

She trailed behind Chloe and me like a shadow, taking calls, texting, receiving orders from Chloe like they were law, and constantly staring down at her pad with a frown.

“This evening is the Victoria Steeplechase.” Our country was one of the only ones that had a huge horse jumping race in the autumn. It was the occasion that set the stage for the upcoming events in spring. Some were veterans, but most owners were trying out a brand-new horse, getting them introduced to the racing scene. It was fun, an event where you saw the royals be more relaxed and casual. It started out because Theo’s great-grandfather didn’t want to wait for spring. Guess he was a bit of a gambler and loved all horse races.

Hmmm. Wonder where Eloise got her love of gambling from? Ran in the family.

“Her outfit for tonight is getting pressed right now. Will be in her room in two hours,” Heidi inserted, slightly out of breath. Her phone rang, icing my neck with the shrill tone.

“Oh, that’s the editor at Vogue. She wants to do an exclusive with Spencer. I’m going to take this.” She stopped walking. “Madeline, hello!”

Vogue Magazine? Did I even get a say in this?

Chloe didn’t even pause, curving us down a corridor like she was skating on ice, gliding into her office. “We have notes for you.” She didn’t even miss a step, grabbing a folder off her desk and tossing it to me. “What you should say. Things you cannot say. And customs and traditions, which, should you break, would be horrendously embarrassing to you and the royal house. Please read up on them.” She looked at me pointedly. “We’ve just gotten past the other blunder. Let’s not have a repeat.” Stab.

I nodded, opening it, observing more than twenty pages of small print typing. Dry, old, and boring as hell.