Tabloid Princess, page 19
Friday night, Leia Lawrence style.
Putting the glass down on the coffee table, I stretched and glanced at the time on the kitchen wall. Quarter to ten. Wow, I was living life on the edge.
I peered through the peep hole trying to make out the shadowy shape the other side of the door. The white shirt and black tie gave it away. “Bill?” I swung the door open.
“Ma’am, you should never answer the door.”
“But you just knocked on it.”
He flashed me a grin. “Can I come and do a sweep please?”
“Wh…” My question trailed off. Out in the street, under the cover of darkness sat a black vehicle I had become all too familiar with. “Oh.” My pulse spiked just from knowing he sat in the car.
Bill darted around me. It should have been odd. My grip on reality had officially failed. “Be careful with the top room on the right please.” I whispered after him, but he already padded down the stairs, his steps panther like.
“All good. I apologise for the intrusion.” He nodded his head. “Enjoy your evening.”
“My evening,” I mumbled. “My evening is done.”
He flashed me a quick smile and then stepped back to the car.
This couldn’t be happening. Oliver had come to my house? Why?
“All clear, Sir,” I heard him tell his boss as he opened up the door.
Oh good lord above.
Oliver unfolded himself from the car and patted his guard on the arm. Dressed in an immaculate dark suit, his beauty could have made a grown woman cry—in fact it nearly did. “You surprise me, Bill. Like I expected it to be anything else.”
Then his eyes were on me, his smile broad as he stepped quicker down the pathway to the house. “I apologise for the late hour. I’ve just finished a function. May I come in?”
He wanted to come into my little house? “Uh.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
Without a backward glance to his car which pulled away from the street with its lights off, he stepped through the door and closed it behind him.
“But I haven’t tidied. There is Lego everywhere,” I muttered, but my ability to talk became severely hampered by his fingers sliding along my throat, cradling my face in that hold he had. I couldn’t process the fact I stood in my faded tracksuit. I’d save that to cringe over a different day.
“I’m sorry. This breaks all protocol, but you seem to bring out my reckless side.” I shrank a little, but he quirked his lips at me and my momentary flash of worry that this was in fact the stupidest thing two people had ever contemplated flitted out of my mind as quick as it arrived.
I had no words. None. His fingers drifted across my cheek, his gaze burning as it rested on my open mouth.
He lowered his head slowly, the moment spinning for a million years. “Definitely a protocol breaker,” he murmured as his lips brushed mine. I inhaled a gasped breath, that flashing fire just the simplest of his kisses sparked swarmed over me. He pushed me back against the door, his body pinning me in place as his kiss deepened. His tongue probed between my teeth, seeking access and I opened to receive him, breathing and tasting the tang of mint on his tongue combined with a smokiness that hinted at whisky. I hated the stuff, but fuck it tasted good on him.
When he broke the kiss, his eyes remained closed, his forehead pressed against mine. “That was worth leaving the dinner early for.”
“Early?”
He snapped his eyes open. “It was utterly dull.”
“What was it about?” I didn’t want to talk. I wanted him to kiss me again so I could get more of that flavour from his tongue.
“No idea, my mind was otherwise distracted.” He flashed me a devastating smile.
“Oh?”
“Utterly.” He pecked a kiss on the corner of my mouth. “Completely.” Another kiss, the other corner. “Distracted.” My lips parted and we fit together with ease. My fingers slid through his hair, pulling at the strands. His erection pushed against my hip and it made me ache deep down in places I really hadn’t experienced before. It burned like a low flame, surprisingly pleasurable in its discomfort.
I shifted against him desperate to alleviate the aching.
“Nothing like the heir to the throne turning up with a hard on.” He smirked against my lips.
“It’s an unexpected development on my Friday night.”
He broke away from me then. “Is Daisy asleep upstairs?”
I stared at him wildly for a moment. “Yes. Talking about breaking protocols.”
He shot me a sheepish glance. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t help myself. I thought spending time with you last night at the gallery would see me through a couple of days.”
“It didn’t?”
“No. As discreet and professional as the staff were; it wasn’t the same as us just being alone.”
I flushed at the word alone and he chuckled, lifting a finger to my cheek. “You are utterly breath-taking when you get embarrassed.”
“Uh thanks. I think.”
I turned for the small interior of my house. “It’s not a palace, or a giant converted warehouse.” I grimaced a little and he chuckled again, stepping into my small front room.
“It’s perfect.” Not waiting for me to invite him further in, he went to the small sideboard where some photographs of Daisy and I sat in black frames. “She’s lovely.”
“Thank you.” My throat tightened. I hesitated. “What are you doing here, Oliver?”
He placed the picture back on the sideboard and turned, his green gaze troubled in its depths. “I told you last night. I’m having some difficulty staying away.”
The air huffed out of my chest. “But you could have been seen. My neighbours are nosy buggers, and the woman next door has already sold a story about me.”
His dark eyes flickered with steel for a moment. “I know. I read it. To be fair to her, she had nice things to say about you.”
“Hmph.” What he said took a moment to sink in. “Are you reading all the headlines about me?”
“Avidly. Especially the ones with pictures.”
I shook my head. He couldn’t be for real. I mean the chances of meeting someone like him in an ordinary life, some guy down the pub, would be slim. To meet him and know he was also destined for the highest of positions was mind boggling.
“They press seem to have backed off. There hasn’t been much since Patrick and I broke your heart.”
I could have sworn I caught a flicker of satisfaction across his face. He distracted me by clutching his hands to his chest. “It still hurts. It wounds me so bad.”
“Shush! You will wake Daisy.” I waved my hand at him and he caught my fingers, grinning as he wheeled me in, pulling me tight to his chest. “If we make out, we won’t make any noise.” He arched an eyebrow. “Well, unless things go too far.”
That aching burn instantly rekindled and I squeezed my legs together.
“And the prince likes to make out on tatty old sofas?”
His smile spread, slow and delicious. “There is nothing the prince likes more.”
I giggled as he grabbed me, angling us to fall back on the sofa. His hands slipped along my spine, his mouth seeking mine as he held me tight across his chest.
I must be dreaming. It was the only logical thought I had.
“So I’m trying to work out ways to spend more time with you, without the tabloids announcing our impending nuptials and while still protecting your Daisy protocol.”
“Impending nuptials?”
“I’m engaged to a different woman every week. Didn’t you know?” He lifted a dark eyebrow.
“You’re a lucky guy. Some of them are quite beautiful.”
He grinned, his hand tugging on the back of my head so he could kiss my mouth again. “You’ve blinded me to everyone else.”
I wanted to believe his broad statement, but my reality sensor flickered into action.
“And talking about your Daisy Protocol.”
“We weren’t.”
“Oh, we are now. So, I was thinking, I should probably meet her.”
I almost leapt out of his arms. “Are you insane? She’s obsessed with princesses and all things Disney.”
“I’m told I’m a close Flynn Rider.”
I burst out a snort of a laugh. “You’ve watched Rapunzel?”
“All the greats. I have to brush off my prince skills somehow.” He pulled me back down onto his hard body. His lips traced up my neck warming that pit in my belly again. The monster gave a little dance, maybe it sensed the crumbling of my defences. Maybe it just knew what he did to me. Some of his skills needed no brushing off.
“Anyway.” I shook my head trying to clear my thoughts. “You can’t meet her. Not just because of that, but because if this didn’t work out it would hurt.”
He lifted that damn eyebrow again. “Yesterday, I told you I’d go to the block for you, but you’re still writing me off.”
I remembered how I’d felt at that table, how I still felt now in his arms and I knew I’d go with him. I’d woken this morning with the conviction just as strong as it had been in the moment. It hadn’t been the champagne leading my thoughts, or the romantic—albeit gruesome—setting.
But just because I’d go, didn’t mean I’d take my most treasured possession with me.
“It’s too soon, Oliver. We don’t even know each other yet.”
“And how long will it take you to get to know me?”
“Why are you pressing this?” I pushed out of his hold.
His gaze held mine, startlingly intense. “Because I know how things go in my world. This story won’t stay quiet for long. Then it will be everywhere, and we will no longer be two people who possibly like each other a bit too much. We will be public property, and I want to make sure that your daughter, who I know I’m going to love, trusts who I am.”
I stared at him aghast. “Those are big words, Oliver, for someone who doesn’t know me all that well.”
“You opened my eyes, Leia. So, my statements are big because I’m seeing things I’ve never considered before, possibilities I’d never considered.”
“What are they?” I whispered.
He pulled me back and I couldn’t resist. “Happiness.”
“But I’m not a single package. I come with a child. You can’t gloss over that fact.”
I shivered as his hands ran along my spine. “I’m aware of the package.” He closed the matter, his face telling me my arguments about sanity and propriety wouldn’t get me anywhere. “So I ask again, how long will it take?”
“Take what?” My tongue tingled with dryness.
“Until you think you know me.”
“I don’t know. How long’s a piece of string?”
“However long you cut it.”
“That’s stupid.” I giggled against his lips and he kissed me, a brief but intoxicating sweep of his mouth.
“So string…”
I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
His kiss when it came back no longer teased and hinted. It pulled and challenged, dragging sensations from me I didn’t know if I wanted to give.
The monster growled as I shifted my body against his. His instant desire pressing right where it felt the best.
He’d be the end of me.
I’d never survive this burning furnace of anticipation.
All too soon he broke the kiss, one hand still on my face, his other running along my side. “I have to go.”
“You do?” My response caught between a question and a request.
I reminded myself of the Daisy Protocol. More for me than anything else.
“You’ve set me a challenge.”
“I have?” I reluctantly shifted off his body, already aching at the space between us.
He shot me a mega wattage smile and stood from the sofa.
“Mummy!”
Oliver’s eyes widened. “That’s my cue,” he whispered.
For one wild moment I wanted to ask him to stay. An irrepressible bubble of an urge lifted inside me. I didn’t. I nodded and watched him turn to the door, giving him a small wave as he slipped outside. Bill must be close, otherwise he’d never have walked out. But then maybe he’d risk it rather than break the Daisy Protocol as he called it.
“Mummy!”
I shut down my errant and dangerous thoughts and paced up the stairs.
* * *
“We’ve got the BBC coming in.” Janine’s throat blotched with red marks.
I spun on my chair. “No one said anything about that.”
“Apparently Prince Oliver has offered them a one-on-one interview with me and him.”
I pursed my lips. “That’s a surprise.”
Janine looked momentarily baffled. “I know. The impression I got from Freya was that he’d be less involved, and now he’s coming back.”
Funny that.
“He must really want us to do well.” I kept my tone even.
“You’d think he’d have better things to do.” Molly piped up. “I saw in the paper he had a date at the National Gallery.” She tapped her pen against her teeth. “Some people have all the luck. That guy I went out with on Saturday looked like he wanted to cry when I asked for fish and chips on the way home from the pub.”
I kept in my grin until Molly narrowed her gaze in my direction. “Why does it look like you’re having a stroke?”
“Don’t be rude. I always look like this.”
“True.” Her gaze narrowed further. “But you are dressed better today than normal. You didn’t know about this interview, did you?”
“Me? No way!” And this was God’s honest truth.
“Okay, okay.” Janine pulled us all back around to focus on her. “Leia, have you got those media packs still?”
“Yep.”
“Good. Right can everyone straighten up. Molly, go for your ciggy now, so you don’t do it later. This is the BBC guys and the prince. It’s going to be a special on their London Tonight segment.”
Wow. My heart lurched a little.
This didn’t come under the criteria of winning me over. This came under winning everyone over.
When security walked in three hours later, the journalist and film crew had already been with Janine. Cynthia Roberts, who had beady eyes and a sharp almost biting way about her must have known his arrival time because she’d positioned herself directly in the line of sight to watch my reactions.
Externally, I remained as cool as a refrigerated cucumber.
Somehow. Through some backwards counting, imagining drowned kittens, and general breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth. I even managed to continue to type although it unravelled to just bashing any old keys in a show of touch typing as I held myself together.
While inside I spun into some spiralled overdrive. When he entered the building looking all princely—wearing dark grey trousers; and a pale pink shirt, typically open at the collar and rolled at the sleeves—it was enough to make all the Bright Futures staff sit up a little straighter.
The magnetic force between us almost brought me down. The moment he stepped in, it zapped between us like electricity without an earth wire. He merely gave me a simple nod of his head and a small smile, while in my memory I replayed Friday night’s unexpected kiss, his hands on my body, his fingers in my hair over and over again until I burned like a woman on a pyre.
I folded my arms across my chest and attempted to hold myself together. Could no one else feel that?
His lips gave the briefest quirk and I knew who else could.
“Your Royal Highness.” Cynthia curtseyed. “Thank you so much for this honour.”
He extended his hand to shake hers. “The honour is all mine, I assure you.”
She giggled and I watched his face closely, as closely as I dared. He showed no response at all to being fawned over; he really was the epitome of princely behaviour; apart from Friday night when he had me pushed against the door to my house, his tongue against mine, his body hard and responsive.
He became himself with me.
Even at The National Gallery, formal though the date may have been, he had still been himself, honest in his words and actions.
The small resistance I had left unravelled another notch.
“I must say the royal correspondent has been disappointed the invite didn’t extend to her.” Cynthia said, her tone grating on my ears.
The greens flashed, but he didn’t look in my direction. “My time with Bright Futures is business not personal, and I can’t remember the last time Ava Bond wrote anything about me that wasn’t utter gossip.”
Ouch.
I almost winced for Cynthia myself. Then I remembered she appeared happy to flirt with my man. My man?
“Shall we get down to business?” Oliver changed the course of the conversation, his smile growing wide. Both Cynthia and Janine blinked blindly. “I thought we could do the interview in here with the rest of the crew working in the background.
My fingers clanged against the keyboard. Was he for bloody real?
Paula automatically breathed in, then probably realising that she’d likely die if she held it in that long she slumped over.
“Oh, okay.” Janine came around to the idea quick. “That would be wonderful. Everyone okay?”
No. No. No. I couldn’t sit here and pretend to be normal for that long—or at all.
Oliver stepped close to my desk and pulled out the spare chair he’d sat on a couple of times, turning it for the centre of the room.
“I think right here would be perfect, Janine.”
I slunk down in my seat, my body aching at his closeness. The separation of mere inches ached like a knife wound.
“Assuming that’s okay with you, Miss Lawrence?” He turned to me.
The devilish burn in his gaze almost stopped my heart. “As you wish, Your Highness.”
He grinned widely. “Perfect.”
* * *
“That was utterly unfair.” I almost groaned against his mouth. I knew he’d come. I knew there’d be a discreet knock on the door. The fact I knew scared the life out of me.
I’d got Daisy to bed in double quick time and then had a shower and cleaned my teeth, trying to choose an outfit that wasn’t obvious but was a step up from the one I’d worn on his unplanned visit Friday.
