The Controversial Princess (The Smoke & Mirrors Duology #1) Page 26

  Josh’s body locks up, and he reverses his step, his back meeting the opposite wall. “What story?”

  “The one of you getting drunk, entertaining women, plural, and trashing your hotel suite.”

  His mouth drops open, and he looks to the door of the cubicle, his forehead a roadmap of creases. “I didn’t trash my hotel room.”

  It’s hardly surprising I don’t focus on his denial, but only on his lack of reference to the women. So, he can say lovely things to me, build my hopes up, tell me it will all work out, but he has no qualms about fucking other women while he waits. I’m a fool. I’m done. Through. “I saw the pictures, Josh. And you may have forgotten, but I’ve been inside that suite so can verify the photographs’ authenticity. Do not treat me like I’m stupid.” I go to leave, getting nowhere, his hand like a vice on my forearm. I glare at him with all the disgust I feel. “I only have to shout and Damon will be in here within a second.”

  “Then fuckin’ shout,” he snaps, goading me, shoving his spare hand in his pocket and pulling out his phone.

  So I do. “Damon!” The door to the lavatory is open within a heartbeat, Damon brooding on the steps before me, taking in the scene. “Get me out of here, please,” I all but sob, yanking my arm free and rushing past my head of security.

  “Adeline,” Josh yells after me, but I don’t slow my pace, dashing to the field to immerse myself in the crowds where I know Josh can’t corner me. I cast my eyes back as I round the corner, seeing Damon placating Josh, allowing me to escape. I need to go home. Get away from here, and that is exactly what I intend to do when Damon comes back.

  “You are acting weird today.” Matilda looks at me with a heavy frown when I land by her side, all flustered and still drink-less. So I help myself to hers. “Dive in,” she quips. “What’s going on? Did you talk to him?”

  “Why would I talk to him? What he does is not my concern.”

  She snorts, thoroughly amused by my pathetic attempts to feign coolness, yet her apparent disbelief doesn’t encourage me to spill the beans. Besides, there is technically nothing to spill now. “You slept with him, Adeline.”

  Except that, which my cousin already knows because I was daft enough to tell her. “I have slept with men before. What is your point?”

  “No point.” She shrugs nonchalantly. “Except that you are absolutely smitten with this one. Probably best he has turned out to be a moron. It’s not like it could have gone anywhere.” Cocking her head at me in interest, she claims back her champagne. “Cheers.” I stare at her as she returns her attention to the field, paralyzed by my conflicting feelings.

  She’s dead right, of course. This is the best thing that could have happened. Or it would be, if I wasn’t so head over heels.

  “Santiago Garcia is a god on horseback, by the way.” Matilda pouts, and I slowly turn my attention to the field. “Bravo!” Matilda yells, as the god on horseback swings his mallet, connecting perfectly with the ball and sending it straight toward Eddie. My brother swiftly finishes it off, landing it in the goal in time for the end of the second chukka. Eddie rides across to Santiago, who pulls off his hat, revealing his stunning looks to all as he shakes Eddie’s hand.

  “Did I hear your heart just flutter?” I tease. “Or was it your thighs vibrating?”

  “Adeline.” Matilda scolds me, though she is still smiling toward the Argentine.

  “I know,” I say quietly, glancing around me. “I’m a disgrace.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  The crowds disperse for the small interval, most venturing toward the champagne tent to replenish. I remain where I am, scanning the area, wondering where Damon is. I’m itching to escape.

  He appears, as if responding to my thoughts, and paces over. “Ma’am, a word, please?”

  “Thumbs down,” I say, just in case he needs reminding.

  “I’m aware of your wishes.”

  “Good.”

  “But I must insist you accompany me to the car.” Damon places his hand on my back and moves me along.

  “Why do we have to go to the car?” I ask, my legs working fast to keep up with his long strides.

  “Kim would like a word. Something about a bank.”

  I nearly crack my neck when I snap my head up to look at him. Gerry Rush? Has he not disappeared into the black hole full of hookers where he belongs? “So much for a lovely day at a royal polo match,” I mumble to myself.

  “Quite, ma’am.” Damon opens the door to the back of my car while I brace myself for whatever I’ll be challenged by now. Maybe I should relent to my father’s wishes and marry Haydon, because I’m suddenly so very tired of the constant discord in my life. Could I learn to be content? Could I pretend like the rest of my family?

  I slip into the back and the door slams quickly after, barely giving me enough time to settle in my seat.

  “Now you will listen to me,” Josh says from beside me.

  I suck in an incredulous breath and immediately reach for the door to let myself out, but I hear the mechanics of the locks kick in before my searching hand finds the handle. What the hell? I yank at the lever nevertheless, and despite it having no effect, I repeatedly pull, cursing Damon for his underhanded stunt. “Thumbs down,” I shout through the window to his back.

  “No thumbs down,” Josh replies calmly. “You will listen to what I have to say.”

  “I’m not interested.” I give up on my bid for freedom and slam my back into the seat. “He will lose his job over this.”

  “No, he won’t. You love him too much.” Josh’s hand lands on my bare knee, and I immediately push it off.

  “Don’t touch me.”

  “As it belongs to me, I will touch it when I want.” His statement is deadly serious, his hand back on my knee, his flesh fused to mine. Heat courses through every vein, muscle, and nerve. How can I be so hypersensitive to his touch? How can I react this way when I’m so angry and disgusted? The thoughts are twisting my head.

  “I do not belong to you.” I spit the words out with pure venom.

  “Wrong,” he states simply, reaching for my jaw with his spare hand and forcing me to look at him. Amber flashes in his blue eyes back up his potent anger. “You became mine the second you dropped to your knees for me, Your Highness.”

  I defiantly tug my jaw from his grasp. “And you became an arsehole the second I saw evidence of your little party.”

  He exhales through his nose, clenching his teeth. “Oh, that.”

  Oh, that? The man has a nerve. “Yes, that.”

  “You mean this?” He collects his phone from his inside pocket and drops it onto my lap.

  I look down and see an image on the screen. An image I have already seen. I grab his mobile and toss it onto the seat between us. “Well, thank you for refreshing my memory on what a massive arsehole you are.” I take the handle of the door again and pull in vain.

  “Read it.” His phone lands back on my lap. “Now.”

  “Fuck you,” I spit.

  “You know, for a princess, your mouth is vulgar sometimes.”

  Releasing the handle, I turn my body fully into him, leaning close. “Fuck. You,” I breathe, restraining my hand, which is dying to slap his face.

  “And I love it,” he growls, grabbing my neck and yanking me forward.

  Gone.

  Our mouths smash together—fuse together—and our tongues connect like they’ve never been apart. And I’m back floating on air in that amazing place he takes me to like I never left. I’m in my own seat one second, on his lap the next. It’s a messy kiss, one of tangled tongues, smashing teeth, and constant cries and groans. It’s an angry kiss. There is no effort on my part to stop myself being swallowed whole by him. I don’t fight his fingers from crawling up my inside thigh and slipping past the seam of my knickers. Even mad and confused, I’m wet for him.

  Then my mind’s eye quickly reminds me of his hotel suite. The knickers. The women. It’s a stark reminder of why I’m here in the back
of the car with Josh, sparring with words. “No,” I gasp, prying myself away from him, short of breath. I fall back into my seat. “You are a liar and a cheat.”

  His head drops back, his own breathing as labored as mine. “I don’t appreciate being accused of shit I haven’t done, Adeline.”

  “I’m not accusing you. I have the evidence.”

  Snatching up his phone that was knocked to the floor during my lapse of restraint, he shoves it into my chest. “No, what you have is a pile of fabricated trash, Your Highness. Read the fuckin’ date. Tell me when they claim I threw this wild party and fucked endless women.”

  I recoil, searching his angry eyes.

  “Read. It,” he grates, taking my hand and placing the phone there.

  I look down, wincing at the headline and the images, quickly working my way to the main article. I’m forced to endure too many graphic details before I reach the bit I’ve been demanded to find. Bewilderment comes on strong. They are not claiming all these defiling activities happened the night of the after-party at all. They state quite clearly that this so-called wild party and orgy went down the night before the after-party. My hand quickly covers my mouth and I shoot my eyes to Josh. He’s looking at me expectantly, his eyebrows raised.

  “But I was with you in your suite,” I exclaim, looking at all the images of Josh’s trashed room. “I was with you all night.”

  “Yes, you were.” He takes his phone back. “I didn’t leave the after-party until four in the morning. When we got back to my suite, it had been ransacked, though I can assure you there were no panties on the bedroom floor. We assumed a robbery or a deranged fan and called the police. But nothing was stolen, not even a pair of my boxers or a bottle of cologne. It didn’t make sense.” He shakes his head, his jaw so tight. “Now it makes perfect fuckin’ sense.”

  It does? “How?” I’m utterly confused. Yes, newspapers decorate stories, but completely fabricate them?

  “They can’t claim all this happened on the night of the after-party because everyone knows I was at another venue until dawn. There are pictures in every fuckin’ magazine.” Josh looks at me gravely, his palm on his nape, massaging. “It seems someone’s out to discredit me, Your Highness. Why’d you think that is?”

  I can’t help my recoil. “You think this has something to do with me?”

  “Who else?”

  “But no one knows,” I whisper as I search my frantic mind for another plausible explanation. I come up blank.

  He’s right.

  Who else could it be? Who else would want to tarnish Josh’s reputation? Just because I have had no indication that my father and his army know, doesn’t mean that they don’t. I come over a bit claustrophobic, my mind reeling. This is everything I dreaded. This is every reason why I should have stayed away from him. They will destroy him before they allow me to be involved with him. I swallow down the pain running riot through me, staring at the back of the driver’s seat. “You should leave me alone.” It physically pains me to say it. Hurts like nothing else has hurt me before. I can’t risk his reputation and career being sabotaged by the bastards that advise the King. I care too much for him. “They will ruin you.”

  “Never.” Josh reaches across the back seat and manhandles me back onto his lap, pushing my bent legs to either side of his hips. I don’t fight him. “Do you hear me?” My face is cupped in his palms, his blue eyes daring me to deny him. “Never.” Bringing his nose close to mine, his soft gaze flutters across my face, taking it all in carefully, as if he could be photographing each and every piece of me to memory. A small smile ghosts his lips. “We were made for each other, Adeline. I’ll be damned if royal blood and fame get in the way of that.”

  I feel overcome. “Really?”

  “Damn straight. I own that beautiful royal ass of yours.”

  Never has anything sounded so amazingly right. “Really?” I ask again, at a loss for any other words.

  “Really.” Pushing his lips to mine, he growls as he kisses me, sealing his authority over me. And I let him. But just as quickly, I’m breaking his kiss, unwanted worry and fear plaguing me. This is bad, and the news breaking tomorrow is all the proof we need that it is all so very hopeless. Josh doesn’t know what he’s up against. No one does, really. “Josh, there’s nothing we can do to stop them.”

  “I won’t let you believe that.”

  “But I already do.”

  “Then you are not the woman I thought you were.”

  I drop my heavy head. “That isn’t fair.” My voice is thick with emotion and bleakness. “You can’t confirm you were in your suite, because they will check all the CCTV footage and see me.”

  “Aren’t you prepared to fight for it? To fight for happiness? To fight for me?” he asks, prompting me to peek at him. “Because I’m ready to fight for you, Adeline. I’m already armored up and set for battle, and I’m pretty fuckin’ determined to win. Because the prize is you.”

  His valor is admirable, if wasted. “But at what cost, Josh? Your career, your rep—” A hand is sealed across my mouth, silencing me.

  “I don’t care.” He sounds so adamant. “As long as the cost isn’t you.”

  I stare at him, trying so hard to comprehend what this means. I would like to think that it means a permanent place floating on air with him, but, first and foremost, I know it means war. A war between my family and me. A war between Josh and my family. Quite literally. But to keep him? To keep the feeling of freedom? It sounds crazy since he has claimed he owns me. But the fact of the matter is, I am free when Josh owns me. Free from the constraints of my life. Free from the suffocation and suppression. The way he whisks me away to that special place is enough to keep me going. His faith in me. His friendship. His belief in us. He will fuel me with the fight I need.

  “Just tell me you’re in with me.” He’s pleading. He doesn’t need to.

  In with him? I’m so far in, I’m drowning. Drowning in him, and I can think of nothing better. Everything worth having in life is worth fighting for. The pain I feel just thinking about Josh being absent from my world, no matter if it’s me walking away before the carnage breaks, or him being taken away when it does, is unbearable.

  “There is only one right answer to my question,” he whispers. “And there will only be one winner in this war. It won’t be them.”

  “I’m in.” I exhale, feeling like my commitment to this battle lifts the burden of wanting him so badly. “I’m in, I’m in, I’m in.” I fall forward and sink into his chest, needing him all over me.

  “Correct answer.” His lips vibrate against my neck, and I close my eyes, falling deeper, trying not to think about what is at stake. My fear isn’t for the strength I’ll need or the anguish I’ll experience on this journey. My fear is for possibly coming out the other side of it without Josh. The agony of not having him touching me again, or speaking to me in his dreamy American accent, of surrendering to him with a simple demand or look. Of laughing and joking with him. Of letting him relieve the pressure from my shoulders. Of letting him take charge over me and welcoming the relief of it. I can’t sacrifice any of it, not for anything or anyone, and especially not for a throne. I’m in. I don’t care if I never find my way out, as long as Josh is in with me.

  “You know, Your Highness,” he says into my skin, kissing me between every other word, “this spell you have me under is fuckin’ strong.”

  I make no attempt to move out of his embrace. “I don’t have you under a spell.”

  “Don’t argue with me.”

  “Okay.” I smile. “Whatever you say.”

  “You’re a fast learner.”

  While it’s lovely being here all cuddled on his lap being playful, I’ll soon be missed. I sigh deeply. “I should go before my absence is noted. What are you going to do about the article?”

  “You’re not the only one with a wizard to deal with the press,” Josh assures me. “My reputation will still be intact tomorrow.”

  Grudging
ly, I place my hands on his warm chest and push myself away, and he grudgingly lets me, albeit on a murmur of protest. “I really don’t understand how this has happened.” There has been nothing to suggest the King knows of my connection with Josh. Not one thing. Or . . . wait. His surprise visit to Kellington for breakfast? But nothing was said about Josh. God, I feel like my head could pop. “I’m certain no one knows. Only Damon, Kim, and Matilda, and I trust them with my life. And Eddie would never betray me like that, no matter how worried he is for me.”

  “That’s four people, plus both teams of security we have tailing our asses every step we take.”

  I shake my head, confident that none of my staff would divulge my private life to anyone. “It doesn’t make any sense. If my father knew, I would be summoned to the palace and warned.”

  “Let’s tread carefully until we decide what to do, yeah?”

  I nod, agreeing, because agreeing is all I can do. Josh taps the window, helping me across to my own seat. “I’ll hang back until the coast is clear.” He taps his cheek in silent order, and I lean over to drop a kiss where indicated. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”

  “I will.”

  “And for the record”—his face takes on an edge of repulsion—“that Haydon dude is cruising for a bruising.”

  “He’s misguided,” I sigh in his defense. “It’s not his fault. Plus, he is dealing with some family problems. Don’t be too harsh.”

  Damon pulls the door open, and I hop out, brushing down my dress. “A bank?” I question him dryly. “You horror.”

  “You forget, ma’am, I was in Mr. Jameson’s suite that night, too. He deserved his chance to explain. The man’s been shafted.”

  “But by whom? Nothing has been mentioned from the top about Josh.”

  “I’m aware of that,” Damon muses, clearly as mystified as me as we wander toward the field.

  “I don’t know what to do.” My fingers twiddle with the tassels on my bag.

  “For now, you smile.” He nudges me in the shoulder and my smile pops onto my face as if by magic. “Oh, and you should know, Felix really was looking for you. I told him you were MIA.”