Stealing Kisses With a King (Kings of Carolina #3)- Sylvie Stewart Page 0,12

What she doesn’t know can’t hurt her.”

Matthias nodded, giving his golden beard a scratch and finally tearing his focus from Janine’s curves. “We should touch down at Piedmont International in four hours. Local time will be around five in the afternoon.”

Andrew beckoned Matthias and he excused himself to see to his boss’s instructions.

I leaned back in my seat and crossed my arms over my chest. Only a few more hours. Perfect timing. I’d likely catch Alice returning to her flat from whatever job she’d taken. My mouth turned down at the thought of her talents being wasted on a tedious office gig, working for some stodgy old bastard who couldn’t possibly appreciate her properly. I’d bet my Shelby she’d been living in regret every day since her impulsive and inexplicable resignation.

Since learning of her whereabouts, I’d given it more than a little thought and determined that her fiancé must be working in Greensboro as well. Why else would Alice not be home in the Feldlands? I imagined she’d be relieved to see me and have an excuse to return to the motherland—as well as her position with the soon-to-be king. You couldn’t buy that kind of prestige for a CV. My lips curved as I pictured her reaction upon seeing me on her doorstep. Soon she’d be back where she belonged, and all would be right with the world again.

Alice would know what to do—how to rid me of this pesky public speaking hiccup and prepare me for my new position. There wasn’t a problem out there that Alice Williams couldn’t solve. She thrived on it, in fact, and now it was time to put her skills to the test.

With the fate of the nation at hand, how could she possibly refuse?

Chapter 4

Alice

“Reckon you could spare a few bucks?”

I did my best not to rip my hair out with my brush as I listened to my sister over speakerphone. “What happened to the money I wired last month?”

“Dunno. Zaz buggered off with it; probably spent it down at the pub. He’s got himself a new girlfriend who works there—some slag called Theresa who always smells of patchouli and day-old spunk.”

My hand paused in its strokes and I grimaced at my reflection in the mirror. “That’s revolting, Tilly.” Leave it to my sister to never skip a gory detail.

“Maybe so, but it’s also true.” Our brother, Zaz, wasn’t known for his discerning taste, although it wasn’t surprising given his disregard for common courtesies like basic hygiene and eating in a manner not affording diners three tables over a view of his half-masticated meal.

“You need to get your own bank account instead of sharing with Zaz. Next time I visit, I’ll drag you from that packing crate you two call a flat and take you down to the bank.” Who was I kidding? If this campaign at Triumph failed, I’d be on the next plane home, tail between my legs, with nothing to do but go visit my siblings and make nice with the smelly girlfriend.

“I have a better idea. You can fly me over to stay with you in America.”

Not that I wouldn’t enjoy seeing her, but it was impossible. “You saw how much visa trouble I had. You’d be sent right home.”

“Only if I was after a job. I’m talking about a holiday!”

I lowered the hairbrush to the counter. “Have you even earned holiday time yet? You’ve only been at that shop for a few months.”

“Dunno. I suppose I should check that.”

How could she not know how much holiday time she had or where her money went? It never ceased to baffle me how we’d all come from the same womb, yet those two were fine wandering the earth with no concrete plan or ambition. The two of them lived a three-hour drive from Dunwall, having moved on a whim to follow one of their mates, and as far as I knew, Zaz hadn’t held down a single job for more than a few weeks’ time. He was happy to sponge off Tilly and me—although I seemed to be the only one it bothered.

To be fair, however, our father hadn’t set the best example. After our mother passed away, he’d developed a three-pack-a-day habit and spent his days barely moving from his mate Darren’s front stoop where the two sat like elderly tortoises all day and heckled everyone from the postman to small children walking to school.

I’d just finished sixth form when Dad completely gave up any pretense of caring