The Controversial Princess

  “My childhood?”

  “Yes, your mum, your dad.”

  Suddenly very awkward, Josh pulls away and takes another drink, and my curiosity goes into overdrive.

  “The senator isn’t my biological father.” Josh swallows and looks past me, and I’m once again struck silent. “My real father was an alcoholic. A bully. A womanizer. A criminal.” He looks at me and smiles, raising his glass. “He was a nasty bastard. Cheers to that.” Then he downs the lot and breathes out, dropping his head back and looking at the ceiling.

  “I’m so sorry.” I curse myself the moment I apologize, because I get the feeling Josh doesn’t want that.

  “Don’t be sorry. Mom should have left him.”

  “She didn’t?”

  “She didn’t need to in the end. He was driving home from the bar in his truck one night and ran someone down. He was wasted. Killed the woman, a mother of three children under five.” Josh shudders, and I find my hand over my mouth, stunned. “He was sent down for manslaughter, and you know what?” He looks at me, his face a little twisted from his inner turmoil. “It was probably the happiest day of my damned life, and the guilt I have for feeling that way when three little girls lost their mom tears me up if I think too much about it. So I don’t.” He nods decisively, swaps his glass for the bottle, and knocks it back. I feel rotten for bringing it up now. “It was only when my father was locked up that Mom felt safe.” He smiles fondly. “Then she met the senator and he made her so incredibly happy, treated her like she deserved, and took me in under his wing. I wasn’t the easiest kid, but he didn’t give up on me, and I’ll never forget that.”

  I reach over and take his hand, threading my fingers through his. I sensed Senator Jameson was a good man. He radiates warmth toward Josh. “That’s really admirable.”

  “He’s a good man. Said I needed something to express myself, and he was right. Acting came so naturally, and he set me up with contacts in New York. The rest is history.”

  “A good history.” I smile, encouraging one from Josh.

  “I didn’t turn out too bad, I suppose. I’m sitting here with a member of the Royal fuckin’ Family, after all. Cheers to me.”

  I laugh a little, moving a little closer to him. There’s been no mention of Josh’s mother in present tense. I’m almost too afraid to ask. “Your mum?”

  “Died five years after she escaped my dad. Just two years after she married the senator. Cancer. Fuckin’ cruel, right?”

  I squeeze his hand, making a point not to say how sorry I am. He knows. “Right.”

  Turning his face to me, he smiles. “I’ve never told anyone that before.”

  A sense of privilege overwhelms me. So does a need to bring us back to the here and now. I push myself up and crawl onto him, pressing into his shoulders to force him to his back. “Therapy is over, Mr. Jameson. At least, the talking part is.” I drop my mouth to his and tease his lips as I unfasten my robe and pull it open.

  He skates his palms onto my arse and helps me forward until my entrance is lined perfectly with his mouth. “Your throne awaits, Your Highness.” He blows cool air across my sensitive flesh, and my body folds with pleasure.

  I groan and my hands meet the side of the couch to hold me up. I slowly release the muscles in my thighs and lower myself onto his waiting tongue. I’m immediately engulfed in ecstasy, and my head is immediately tossed back. “Oh . . . God, yes.”

  Light flicks skim the tip of my buzzing clit, constant and consistent, working me into a fevered mess of a woman. His palms land on my breasts with a slap, molding and squeezing viciously. Light flicks turn into little nibbles. Little nibbles turn into long lashes of his tongue. Long lashes turn into firm circles. He is feasting on my flesh like a madman, and he’s quickly turning me into a madwoman as he does. He moans in gratification, and then he swathes me entirely with his mouth, indulging in my most private place as if he could be kissing me passionately on the mouth. My hips start to grind, and my world starts to spin in a haze of hedonism. I’m ablaze, lost in this rapturous ecstasy. My head drops as I cry out, finding Josh’s eyes wide and staring at me as I reach breaking point. And when he locks his mouth over me and sucks, I fly over the edge of restraint and burst, seeing stars as I come all over his mouth. He sucks it all out of me until I’m a limp, breathless wreck atop of him, gasping for air. “Oh, God,” I exhale, damp with sweat.

  Shifting a little, Josh manages to move me back so the apex of my thighs is at the very top of his chest, meaning he has a perfect view of my pulsing flesh. He stares down, smiling, running his palms up and down my hips as he admires my quaking core. “Sweet Jesus.”

  I manage a small laugh through my exhaustion, loving the enhanced southern twang that shows through his lusty accent with those two words. “My American boy sounds sated.”

  Maneuvering my useless body until I’m lying down, he tucks me into his side. An affectionate kiss is placed in my hair, and I relax into his body, feeling serene and happy. So, so happy. And suddenly so tired. My eyes are instantly heavy, yet a small part of my brain keeps thinking that I should be repaying the favor. But he’s content because I’m sated. I’ve never known such a selfless lover.

  “It’s the premiere of The Underground tomorrow night,” Josh says quietly. “I’d love you to come.”

  I laugh as hard as my exhausted body will allow. “Good God, it would be a frenzy.”

  “I know,” he says, relenting easily. “But the thought is nice, huh?”

  “Yeah,” I sigh, too tired to let dejection edge its way into my tranquil state. “Really nice.” My eyes give up on me and close, and I drift off in his arms, hoping my dreams will take me to the premiere of his movie and let me relish being on his arm for all to see.

  “RISE AND SHINE, SLEEPING BEAUTY.”

  My blinks come rapidly as the words wrestle their way into my mind, my body stretching out, my skin rubbing against the smooth, silky sheets. The blurry vision of someone sitting on the edge of the bed leaning over me slowly becomes clear.

  Josh.

  I inhale on a smile rolling from my back to face him. “Good morning,” I sigh. He’s wrapped in a towel, his hair wet, his chest so close it’s dizzying.

  “Isn’t it just.” His smile is bright enough to knock me unconscious again. “You looked so peaceful. I couldn’t bring myself to wake you.”

  Where I am, who I’m with, and the memory of me dozing off in Josh’s arms all hit me at once. I quickly sit up, panic superseding my tranquility. “Damon!”

  “Hey, cool it.”

  “Oh God, the poor man will be walking dead this morning.”

  “He wouldn’t leave and he wouldn’t wake you up, either. I carried you to bed and you didn’t even stir.” He grins. “But you clung onto me tightly.”

  I roll my eyes, falling back to the pillow as I hide my own grin. “He’s a stubborn old sod.”

  “No, he’s protective of you.” Josh tilts his head, raising a serious brow. “As he should be. You’re lucky to have him.”

  I frown. “I don’t need you to tell me that.” Damon is a blessing in my suppressed life. I’m grateful for him every day, but Josh’s light scorn is making me wonder if Damon knows how much I appreciate him. I don’t know, so I make it a point to tell him just as soon as I find him. “I need to go before Kellington Palace files a missing person’s report.” I scan the floor as I shuffle down the bed. “Where’s my dress?”

  “Hanging in the closet.” Josh gets up and wanders to the wardrobe, pulling my dress out. “Can’t have a princess walking the walk of shame in a creased dress, can we?”

  I narrow my eyes on his grinning face, taking my naked body over to him and swiping my dress from his hand. “Why do I sense that you’re thrilled at the thought of me walking the walk of shame?”

  “Because you’re walking the walk of shame from my hotel room. That’s why.” Casually and lazily, he pulls the towel from his hips and pouts. “Or you don’t have to walk anywhere.”
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  My hungry gaze plummets down his chest and meets his groin, and I fall into an admiring daydream, mentally mustering a plan to keep me here. I run through a few plausible explanations for being missing in action so I can hide here all day with Josh and let him maintain this wonderful state of serenity, but before I can voice any of my ideas, the door to the bedroom bursts open.

  I startle and swing around, forgetting that I’m naked, therefore giving our unannounced visitor a full-frontal. I stare into a pair of stunned eyes, the eyes of a girl with a pile of clean sheets in her hand. Her stare jumps from me to Josh, back and forth, her forehead gradually furrowing in confusion. Oh, bloody hell. I can see the penny slowly dropping, the girl from housekeeping slowly grasping what she is faced with. Or who she is faced with. I quickly come to my senses and hold my dress against my front, and then grab Josh’s towel when he shows no signs of trying to cover himself, shoving it in his chest.

  And then an excited scream rings out and the girl descends quickly into a meltdown. “Oh my God!” The sheets drop from her hands and she covers her mouth. I close my eyes in despair. I can’t blame her for her reaction. The woman is faced with two of the most famous people in the world. Her star-struck state won’t allow her to wonder why we are both here in the same hotel room together, but I have no doubt it soon will. This is awful. How did she get in here?

  As I think that, Josh’s security fall through the door, and Josh must suddenly comprehend the potential problem we’re faced with because he springs to life.

  Flicking his head to one of his men, he makes quick work of refastening his towel around his hips.

  “Oh my God,” the maid shrieks again. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!”

  “Come on, love.” She’s gently ushered from the room by the friendly smiles of Josh’s security before one of the men looks back at our less-than-decent forms with apologetic eyes.

  As soon as the door closes, panic finds me, and I have my very own little meltdown.

  That’s it. My time in Josh’s heaven is over. Poof! Gone.

  “This is a disaster.” I start pacing the room, at the same time fighting my way into my underwear.

  I’m halted in my frantic actions when Josh appears in front of me, taking the tops of my arms and holding me still. “Stop panicking.”

  “I’m not panicking,” I screech, less than calmly, managing to fasten my bra. I step into my dress and get it to my waist. “She’ll be dashing to the office of the nearest national newspaper and tomorrow it will be front-page news. You and me. Naked. In a room at The Dorchester.” I run out of breath as a result of my screeching episode, but quickly pull in more air, not quite done yet.

  Josh’s hand lands over my mouth, his eyes like saucers. “Will you calm down?”

  I snatch his hand away. “Calm down? This is the worst thing that could happen.”

  Stunned eyes quickly transform into . . . what is that? Anger? “The worst thing?” His jaw goes stiff. “What, ashamed to be associated with a lowly actor?”

  Is he trying to be funny? “Don’t be so ridiculous.” I step away, holding my dress to my front with my arms to stop it from dropping to the floor. “It’s just . . .” My eyes plummet.

  “Just what?”

  “It’s just . . .” What can I say?

  “What? Goddamn it, Adeline. What?”

  I burst, my frustration and helplessness pouring out of me unstoppably. “When they find out, they’ll find a way to stop me from seeing you again,” I yell, making Josh recoil warily, though I can’t be sure if it is because of my shouting, or what I’m shouting. I breathe in deeply to calm myself down. “And that will be the worst thing that could happen,” I say calmly, keeping my gaze low, wishing I would think before I speak. But I’ve dived in now. May as well see it through to the end. So I take the plunge. Feet first, in I go. “I like you.” I frown to myself, the words so alien. “That’s not happened before, me liking a man so much. It’s a very lovely feeling, but equally terrifying.”

  There’s silence, a long, painful, awkward silence, and it’s not long before I’m regretting being so loose-lipped. I’m such a foolish idiot. He’s the epitome of Hollywood, for goodness sake. And the most desired man on earth. He is free to cavort with any woman he pleases. Me? My love life is hampered by things out of my control, and now, more than ever, I hate everything about my existence. I might just be a score for him. A challenge. An accomplishment. A private one, since no one will ever know about it, but an accomplishment nevertheless.

  I clear my throat of the silly lump that has formed, collecting my clutch from the bedside. “I’ll be going now.”

  I don’t make it two paces toward the door before he’s blocking my path. “Wait.”

  “No, really, I must go.” I skirt past him and pull the door open.

  It’s slammed shut by Josh with me on the wrong side of it, and I suck in air when he pushes me front forward into the wood with the length of his body. “Someone’s forgotten the rules of our game.” His accent is rough again, low and serious.

  “This isn’t a game, Josh.” I’m not sure when it turned into something more than that, but it has. For me, anyway.

  “It’s a game, Your Highness,” he breathes in my ear. I swallow, my eyes darting across the wood before me. “And now you are winning.” His teeth nibble at my lobe, and then his tongue traces the shell of my ear. Before I can control myself, I’ve lent back against his chest, the magnetic pull too much to stop. “By a long fuckin’ shot, Adeline. You may have already won, in fact.”

  “What?”

  He turns me around and brushes his palms over my hair, holding my head. “I like you.” Unlike me, Josh’s eyes remain glued to mine as he speaks his confession. “A lot. A real lot.”

  My stomach lunges, that statement turning it in circles. “You do?”

  “I can’t believe you’re asking me that. The Princess of fuckin’ England. The expert seductress. You’re asking me if I really like you?”

  I ignore his statements and question. I’m not interested in those. Only one thing matters to me. “You do?” I want confirmation. Need confirmation. Anything to tell me that this hasn’t been my imagination. That he’s felt it as deeply as I have. That I am not alone in these crazy feelings.

  He smiles and drags the pad of his thumb across my bottom lip. “You have completely and utterly blinded me to anything else but you, woman. That good enough for you?”

  I press my lips firmly together, stupidly not wanting him to see how happy that makes me.

  “You can wipe that shit-eating grin off your face.” He laughs.

  Seems I lost my battle. My smile is way too big to conceal. But it quickly falls when I remember why we’re having this conversation. “The maid.” Now I’m even more anxious. Now I’m even more determined to keep what we have under wraps, since we appear to be on the same page in liking each other a real lot.

  “If we’re going to date, we can’t hide it forever.”

  I laugh. “Oh, yes we can.” I get my hands behind my back and fasten the zip of my dress as high as my arms can reach, until Josh sees my struggle and turns me away, taking over.

  “You’re not talking sense.” His tone is admonishing. “It’ll be impossible.”

  “I’m talking perfect sense,” I assure him, positively dreading the thought of the hierarchy finding out.

  He drops a light kiss on my shoulder through a sigh, displaying a little exasperation. “Maybe we should talk about this once we’ve dealt with the maid.”

  “Maybe that is a very good idea.” I turn to face him as he pulls some jeans up his legs and a T-shirt over his head.

  “I’ve never dated a woman who needs more security than me.” His lovely forehead wrinkles on a frown. “It’s . . . weird.”

  I scoff. “I’m erring more on the side of annoying, actually, but if weird fits.” I brush my dress down and flick my hair over my shoulders. “God, I must look frightful.” Josh chuckles, and I stare at him
in dismay. “Whatever’s tickled you?”

  “You, Your Highness.” He collects my hand and leads me out of the room. “Your British lingo and posh accent.”

  “Well, it’s how I speak.”

  “And I love it.”

  We find Josh’s men in the small room where they congregated last night, all huddled and talking quietly. But no Damon. “Excuse me,” I interrupt, breaking up their close circle. “Where is Damon?”

  “Here.” His gruff voice comes from behind, and I pivot to see him entering the suite. “What’s going on?” he asks, taking in the scene.

  Bates steps forward. “One of the hotel staff walked in on Princess Adeline and Mr. Jameson.”

  Damon’s instantly alert. And mad. So very mad. “How was that allowed to happen?”

  “I had a call about a fan trying to get to Mr. Jameson’s suite. I left to deal with it.” Bates looks to the other two members of his team. “I thought I left them in good hands.”

  Both men cower back a few paces, even more so when Damon lands his deadly glare on them. “I hope you have other career prospects,” he grates, turning his eyes to Bates. “I’ll have an NDA sent to you. Get them to sign it before you fire them.”

  I step forward, cautious. “Damon—” I snap my mouth shut when he turns his hard stare on me, effectively shutting me up. He gets his phone from his pocket, and I know it’s in readiness to call Felix. “Don’t the hotel staff know the protocol for high-profile guests?”

  “The maid is new to the staff,” Bates says. “Seems she didn’t get the memo. I’m taking it up with management.”

  “Good.”

  I let go of Josh’s hand and sit down, giving Damon worried eyes. “Where were you?” I ask. It’s so unlike him to leave his post.

  He holds up his mobile, his jaw tight. I can see he’s angry with himself. “Major Davenport. Apparently, the King would like to breakfast with his daughter at Kellington this morning. He’s there. And you are not.”

  “Oh.”

  Damon turns his eyes back to Bates. “I thought these guys were MI6 trained.”