The Controversial Princess

  “Your Highness.” He performs the customary greeting. “Enjoying the champagne?”

  “I’m sorry, you are?” I ask, seeing Damon moving in quickly.

  “Not quite a whole bottle of Belvedere, though, eh?”

  I frown, looking at my glass, confused. It is then I spot his camera bag resting on his hip. My heart jumps.

  “How many men did you share a bed with, ma’am? Two? Three? We heard it was three. Can you confirm that?”

  “Excuse me?” I cough, astounded by his rudeness.

  “We were told there was cocaine, too. Care to comment?” He moves in, his phone in his hand.

  “I was enjoying my thirtieth birthday. There were no drugs, and there was no sex.”

  “And the man in the picture. He’s your lover, right? What about Haydon Sampson? Is a proposal from him definitely off the cards?”

  “Enough.” Kim is by my side in a second as Damon seizes the journalist, who struggles boldly, continuing to shout his incriminating questions.

  “Oh!” I stagger forward when I’m jolted during the scuffle, my palms coming up to save me.

  “I’ve got you.” Josh catches me, righting me with ease, and I look into eyes full of concern, tinged at the corners by rage.

  “I’m okay,” I murmur, dropping my eyes. “Thank you.”

  He doesn’t let go of me, watching on as Damon manhandles the journalist out of the gallery, taking his phone as he does. “No comment, ma’am,” Kim hisses. “Always no bloody comment.”

  I breathe back my nerves, unable to stop my shakes. “I can’t believe that.”

  “Everything cool?” Josh asks, letting me gently break away from him.

  “Yes, everything is cool,” Kim retorts, turning into me. “What did he say? What did you say?”

  “Nothing. He was just trying to put words in my mouth.”

  “Damn republicans.” Kim scans the gallery. “Time to go. Where’s Damon gone, for God’s sake?”

  “I’ll walk her out,” Josh interjects.

  Kim’s disgusted face tells everyone what she thinks of that idea. “I don’t need any fuel adding to the fire, thanks,” she says as Damon strides back through the crowds, his hand held to his ear. “We’re leaving,” Kim informs him.

  Josh moves into me quickly, his hand wrapping around my wrist, his mouth dropping to my ear. “See me again,” he whispers. “Tell me you’ll see me again.”

  “I . . . I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can.”

  “No, I—” I’m pulled abruptly from Josh’s hold by Damon. He says nothing as he places his hand in the small of my back, lightly pushing me onward. I look over my shoulder as I’m directed to the exit, finding Josh not far behind, his jaw tight. Kim’s trying to convince him to hold back, and the other guests are starting to recognize him, people moving in from every direction to crowd him as he tries to bump his way through. His eyes never leave mine.

  “Pay attention, Adeline,” Damon orders as we make it onto the street, and I’m forced to rip my stare from Josh’s. The car door is held open for me by one of Damon’s men, his watchful eyes scanning the area. I slide into the seat and quickly move across when I see Eddie being led to the car by another one of Damon’s team. He falls in beside me and is immediately on my case. But not about what should be being addressed here.

  “You and Jameson,” he says accusingly as the door is shut behind him, closing off the flashes of a million cameras.

  I sit back in my seat and look directly forward at the back of Damon’s head. “There is no me and Jameson.”

  “Then what the hell is he doing here?”

  “Buying art, I expect.” The car pulls off quickly once Kim’s in the passenger seat.

  “Addy, I know what I saw just then. This is bad news.” His hand goes to his forehead and rubs. “They’ll never allow it.”

  “There is nothing to allow,” I grate, my frustration building. I know my brother is only trying to protect me from the inevitable strong-arm of the royal household. And protect Josh too, really. He has so much to lose. Being discredited by the British Royal—

  “I hope so,” Eddie mutters as I fish through my purse for my mobile when it chimes. I discreetly turn the screen away from Eddie when I see who has sent me a message.

  Either tell Damon to pull over, or I’ll stop your car in the middle of Oxford Circus.

  Your call, Your Highness.

  I look out the back window on a skip of a few heartbeats, scanning the darkness. I can only see headlights.

  “Yes,” Damon says to one of his men through his earpiece, looking up at his rearview mirror. “Run a check on the plate.”

  “What’s going on?” Eddie shoots forward in his seat, worried.

  “Unknown vehicle following,” Damon informs him, cool as can be, clipped and to the point.

  Eddie immediately looks out of the back window too, and I begin to sweat as I reread Josh’s message. The unknown vehicle. It’s him. I know it’s him. At that very second, Damon’s eyes catch mine in the mirror, and I sense that someone’s confirmed who is in the unidentified car. I force a smile, and he shakes his head, returning his attention to the road. “For fuck’s sake,” he mutters. He rarely swears, so to hear him do so now, I know he’s exasperated. And rightly so. Josh needs to pull back before this blows up.

  “What?” Eddie asks, his attention divided between the back of Damon’s head and the back window. “What is it?”

  “A fan,” Damon quips.

  “Keep driving,” I order, but a red light flashes up ahead and Damon starts to slow the car. “No, keep driving.”

  “Ma’am, we’re on Oxford Circus. You want me to run someone down?”

  I slowly turn back and look out of the window. I find Damon’s men exiting the car behind, blocking someone from coming to the car. What is he doing? I quickly ring him, and he’s just as quick to answer. “Josh, are you out of your mind?”

  “Yeah, I am.” There’s a few scuffles and a few curses, and I see Josh’s own security wrestling with mine. “Get the fuck off me,” Josh yells.

  “Oh my God,” I breathe.

  Eddie laughs, a short sharp laugh that’s loaded with sarcasm. “Nothing to tell,” he mimics in a silly female voice.

  I put my hand on the door to get out, but Eddie dives across the car and stops me. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going to sort this out.”

  “Adeline, don’t be stupid. We’re in the middle of Oxford Circus, for Christ’s sake. He’s causing enough of a scene already. Add you to the mix and all kinds of shit will hit the fan.”

  I throw myself back in the seat and grudgingly admit he’s right, though not out loud. “Get me home,” I order shortly, before I dive out of this car and give onlookers the show of the year. Maybe even the decade. Josh Jameson, my drug of choice, is a few meters behind trying to get to me, and there is nothing I can, or should, do about it. I feel like I’m going cold turkey. Being starved of something I so desperately want. Or, more disturbingly, something I desperately need.

  BY THE TIME I MAKE it to my suite, ignoring everyone who tries to talk to me for the rest of the journey, I’ve had numerous missed calls from Josh. But I wanted privacy to speak to him.

  I shake my head at Olive as she goes to follow me into my bedroom after I darted past her at the entrance, where she was waiting to take my coat. I shut the door, kick off my shoes, and accept the next call from him.

  “Josh.” I drop to the couch in my room and wait with bated breath for what he has to say.

  “You drive me insane,” he informs me frankly.

  “This has to stop.”

  “No.”

  “Yes. You leave London next week, anyway.”

  “This isn’t stopping. You don’t want it to. I don’t want it to. I’ll admit, Adeline, at first you were a great fuckin’ challenge, no matter how attracted to you I was. But now . . .” He drifts off, and I defiantly force down my hope. Now? Now, what? I shouldn
’t ask.

  I push the tips of my fingers into my temple in despair. “They will—”

  “I don’t give a fuck about them,” he spits angrily. “I didn’t think you did, either.”

  “I usually don’t.”

  “Then tell me, why now?”

  The truth is my only option. “Because I think I would care if they took you away from me.”

  There’s a long pause down the line, one that seems to stretch for an eternity. He finally speaks. “You think you will care?”

  I close my eyes and reach up to massage my chest. This is all too much. I’m drowning and flying, and it is hurting my mind. “I know I’ll care.”

  “We’ll be discreet.”

  My eyes spring open in shock. “What? Like trying to storm my car on Oxford Circus? Like turning up at an art gallery that I’m opening?”

  “Like I said, you drive me insane. And in case it’s escaped your notice, you are the Princess of fuckin’ England, Adeline. A man has to think outside the box if he’s going to get to see you.”

  I laugh, despite myself. “And you are Josh Jameson. Don’t you see how much this can’t work?”

  “No. I only see you. It would seem you have become a bit of an Achilles heel, Your Highness.”

  My heart flutters as I get up and start to pace my room, my head in bedlam. “Josh, I . . .”

  “Do you want to see me?”

  I come to a stop and squeeze my eyes shut, my mind vehemently demanding I say no. “Yes.” My heart wins easily.

  Josh breathes out. “Jesus, Adeline. I can’t even begin to explain how into you I am. I want to tie you up and whip that fine ass of yours to kingdom come.”

  “Josh—”

  “Don’t try to fool me that you don’t love the sense of freedom you get from me restraining you, of letting me have all control over you.”

  He’s right. I go into my bathroom and put myself in front of the mirror while I work my way out of my dress, turning to see the fading evidence of Josh’s heavy hand on my backside. The marks will be gone soon. “Why do you like that?” I ask. “Why do you like whipping me?”

  He’s silent for a few moments, contemplating his answer. “You need it.”

  Again, he’s right. I zoned out and strangely found peace in my crazy world. He knows what he does for me.

  “Have dinner with me,” Josh suggests, gentle and pleading.

  I can’t help the small disbelieving laugh that escapes me. “Where?” I ask. “It’s not like I can wander into a local restaurant and order the daily special.” Grabbing my robe, I slip it on.

  “At my hotel. I’m at The Dorchester in the Harlequin Suite. It’ll be private, I promise. Tomorrow night. Say yes.”

  “Yes.” It’s an easy yes. Probably the easiest agreement I’ve ever given. I can’t say no to him, and what is more, I don’t want to.

  “Have Damon bring you to the staff entrance at the rear at eight o’clock. I’ll have my security team meet you there.”

  Wandering into my bedroom, I perch on the edge of my bed. “Okay.”

  “Adeline?” he murmurs softly, waiting for my acknowledgement.

  “Yes?”

  “I look forward to it.”

  I smile, looking at my lap shyly, butterflies exploding in my tummy at the thought of being alone with him. “Warming up your palm?”

  “I’ll be gentle with you.”

  “Maybe I don’t want you to be gentle with me.”

  “You’re a very bad girl, you know that?”

  I hum, thinking it is he who has unearthed this particularly bad side of me. Or is it bad at all? Maybe it’s the best thing that could happen to me. Or maybe the worst. It hurts too much to think the latter, so I’ll try my hardest not to and focus on savoring the company of my ultimate vice while I can. “Good night,” I whisper.

  “Sweet dreams, Your Highness.”

  “Sweet dreams, my American Boy.”

  He chuckles lightly and hangs up, and somehow my heart rests. It’s as though his call, his assurances, of being with him, calms me. I can finally breathe again. He wants me to be with him.

  I can’t even begin to explain how into you I am.

  Don’t try to fool me that you don’t love the sense of freedom you get from me restraining you, of letting me have all control over you.

  He’s only known me for a tiny moment of my life, yet he knows me. How is that possible?

  Our conversation whirls around in my mind for the rest of the evening and well into the night.

  Why do you like that? Why do you like whipping me?

  You need it.

  I do.

  I also need him.

  THE NEXT DAY, I KEEP myself busy at the stables doing everything the stable girls would usually see to. I muck out, clean saddles, and even tidy up the tack room. I’m lost in all things horses, as well as my thoughts, for most of the day, and when I’m on my way back to the car, I see Sabina for the first time since I found out about Colin.

  I pull off my gloves as I divert toward the hay barn. “Won’t be a moment, Damon,” I call to him by the car, breaking into a jog. As I approach the stable doors, I hear a raised voice and slow to a cautious walk. The voice isn’t only raised, but it’s angry too, and it isn’t Sabina’s voice. It’s David’s.

  “I cannot believe all this time,” he yells.

  I make it to the door and peek around the corner, seeing Sabina holding his upper arms, trying to placate him. “David, please. You must calm down.”

  He shrugs his mother off and stomps his way to the other end of the barn. “Were you ever going to tell me?” He swings around, and I pull back quickly to avoid being seen. “I should have known.”

  “Some secrets should never be told,” Sabina replies, rather meekly. “You should be mourning your father’s death with me. Helping me arrange his funeral.”

  David scoffs, loud and coldly. My mind races, my curiosity piqued more than is safe in my world.

  “I’m busy,” David spits heartlessly, and I frown, almost cynically. He’s busy all right, interfering with me and my life. I hear David’s footsteps hitting the concrete, getting louder. He’s leaving the stable. I quickly dash toward the car, ignoring Damon’s questioning face when I make it there. I’m just dropping into the back seat when David appears through the door, Sabina following quickly after him, though they’re not speaking now. Not when they’re in earshot of others.

  “You okay, ma’am?” Damon asks, winning my attention.

  “Yes, I’m fine.” I look at the back of his headrest. “Home, please, Damon,” I say when he is in the driver’s seat, my mind refusing to slow down.

  What is going on?

  MY MIND HASN’T SLOWED MUCH by the time Damon pulls into the gates at Kellington. Olive greets me at the door and takes my coat. “Will you be joining Prince Edward for supper, ma’am?”

  I let her pull my coat from my shoulders. “Not this evening, Olive. Please let Dolly know I’m eating out.”

  The flash of surprise that flickers across Olive’s face makes me smile on the inside. It’s warranted. Whenever do I “eat out”, especially at such short notice? “As you wish, ma’am.” She scuttles off, and I turn to find Damon looking at me for answers. Oh, of course. I haven’t told Damon of my plans yet. In actual fact, I haven’t told anyone. The less people who know the better, but since Damon needs to accompany me for obvious reasons, I can’t very well keep it from him. I smile nervously, and he rolls his eyes.

  “Where am I taking you?” he asks.

  “To The Dorchester. Eight o’clock.”

  “Am I to assume no one else knows?”

  I nod.

  “And you will be seeing Mr. Jameson, yes?”

  I nod again.

  “I need notice for things like this, ma’am.” He pulls his phone from his pocket and dials. “Men to have in place, checks to carry out.”

  “I’m sorry, Damon, it slipped my mind.” It didn’t. I’ve thought of little el
se but my date with Josh tonight. I was just nervous, is all.

  I can see quite clearly that Damon desperately wants to give me advice, which he knows I’ll dislike very much.

  I smile meekly. “Make it as low-key as possible, okay?”

  “Low-key?” Damon almost laughs. “Adeline, need I remind you of who you are?”

  “No,” I grumble. “No one need do that. I am simply requesting that I don’t have half of MI6 on our tail. Just get me in the back door of the hotel, and that will be that.”

  “That will be that,” Damon repeats on a disbelieving shake of his head, as if I’m naïve. I know he thinks I am. Shooing me away, he starts planning, and I leave him to it, turning to head for my suite and ready myself.

  But my path is blocked by Eddie. My laid-back brother doesn’t look too laid-back right now, and the many reasons why I’ve avoided him today are now before me in the form of a face lined with an expectant expression. “You’re seeing him, aren’t you?”

  I’m not getting into this conversation, especially with too many listening ears around. I walk past him and take the stairs, ignoring the sound of his boots following me. “I’m afraid I won’t be joining you for supper.”

  “I got that message loud and clear, Addy. Please, listen to me.”

  “I’m not listening,” I insist, rounding the gallery landing and scanning the space for staff. “My mind is made up. I am having dinner with him.”

  “Father will not allow it, Adeline. You know that.”

  “Father does not know, and he won’t.” I stop and turn to face Eddie when I reach the entrance of my suite. “Will he?” I ask, cocking my head in question. “Only you and Damon know, so my secret should be safe.”

  “He finds things out, no matter how hard you try to keep them from him. I won’t breathe a word, but that doesn’t mean anything, and you know it.”

  I grit my teeth and push my way into the suite, refusing to accept that he is right. I’ve never worked as hard as I plan on working to keep my meetings with Josh from the King. He won’t find out. I shut the door, but Eddie walks straight in, clearly not ready to give up trying to talk me out of it. I realize he’s only trying to save my hurt. That’s his only motive here, but I can’t help resenting him for it, anyway.