Loving The Princess. A.C. ArthurЧитать онлайн книгу.

       Chapter 2

      She sprayed a spritz perfume, holding the bottle a safe distance from her body but remaining close enough so that she could still feel the cool mist hitting the uncovered areas of her skin. It was a Wonderlust day, Sam thought as she glanced at the name on the perfume bottle before replacing the gold cap on top and setting it down on her dresser. The smoky-floral fragrance made her feel steady and sexy, just what she needed today. She was about to walk away but then turned back to make sure the bottle was in its correct place.

      All the bottles on one side of the dressing table had been aligned according to height. She’d thought about organizing them in correlation to when and where she wore each one, but that may have been a little over the top, even for someone like her.

      When she was certain the bottles were straight, Sam caught another look at herself in the mirror. She wore a periwinkle shade of blue today, pants and suit jacket with a sheer white blouse beneath it. Last night her dress had been black because she’d wanted to appear aloof but professional. Stylish but serious. Today things were different. She needed confidence and maturity to face her father and a hint of cheerfulness for the persona she would display later today when she spoke at the grand opening of Detali’s new design shop.

      There would not be a break in her schedule until an hour before dinner. But since Malayka had invited guests to join them, Sam couldn’t even look forward to the last meal of the day for comfort. With a sigh she fastened a single button at her waist. She’d told Lucie to leave right after selecting her clothes that morning, so the neat ponytail she wore was her own design. The nude pumps almost blended with the beige carpet in her bedroom, but she dismissed that and continued through the door that led to her sitting room.

      Here the floor was tiled, a deep gray color that always made her feel warm inside when she saw it. Her mother had loved dark colors, even though she’d advised her young daughter to always use them sparingly. Sam decided she’d done just that by going with the dark tiled floor and the cameo-white-painted walls. The furniture she’d chosen for the room was what one would call sleek and modern, dark gray leather couches and glass-topped tables. The whimsy came in the bright turquoise pillows resting regally on the couches and the brilliant colorful abstract art on the walls.

      With one last look back as she approached the door, Sam confirmed that everything was where it should be and that she had all she needed to head out for the day. Her purse matched her shoes and her cell phone and tablet were in her bag. Gold stud earrings were at her ears and a thick choker at her neck. Her makeup was flawless. She inhaled deeply then turned and placed her hand on the doorknob, pulling the door open before releasing an annoyingly high-pitched yelp.

      “Good morning,” he said in his deep voice. “Sorry if I startled you.”

      “Why were you lurking outside my room?” she asked immediately as she resisted the urge to flatten a palm on her chest to make sure her heart was still inside.

      “Not lurking. Waiting,” he told her pointedly. “Are you ready to go down and meet with your father?”

      He was standing directly in front of her, which prevented Sam from simply walking out and closing the door tightly behind her. She didn’t want him looking into her rooms and the last time she checked, she was certain she knew her way around this palace.

      “Yes, I am. However, I do not need a chaperone,” she told him.

      She took a step forward, praying he would follow her lead and take one or two or three back. He didn’t.

      Instead of waiting for him to move, Sam pulled the door closed behind her. She was forced to look up at him at that point and she did so with what she hoped was her most cordial but undeniably annoyed look.

      “If you’ll excuse me?” she said.

      “Certainly,” he replied and finally stepped aside.

      Again she wanted to breathe a sigh of relief and touch her hand to her still-pounding heart. She didn’t, of course. It wouldn’t look dignified and would definitely cause him to ask more questions. So she began walking instead.

      “Since we were both summoned to this meeting, I thought it made sense that we go together,” he said as he walked beside her.

      Sam didn’t respond immediately. She was taking the time to get her thoughts together. They moved ahead in silence, before she stopped and cleared her throat.

      “Gary,” she said, determined to stay in control of her thoughts and her words today. “Let me first apologize for what I did last night. I should have thought more before I acted. As I told my brother, it was just a way of getting Morty off my back. Your admission—false as it was—to him afterward was not required. Still, I’d like to extend my appreciation for your quick thinking in a matter that you should not have been a part of in the first place.”

      She paused to take a breath and then wondered the same thing she had last night when she’d first come up to her room. “Why are you here? In the palace, I mean. I’ve seen you around and with Kris and Roland, but I’m not certain we were ever officially introduced.”

      Now Sam did feel like an idiot. She’d just admitted out loud that she’d willingly thrown herself at a man she did not know. In her defense, it was the recognition from seeing him around the palace that had made her feel it was okay...well, at the very least plausible, that she’d kiss him. Still, she really did not know who he was. That fact only compounded the rough morning she’d already been having.

      “No. Not officially. But I know who you are,” he replied.

      “That’s why you kissed me back so readily?” she asked.

      He paused and stared at her. Gary was a good-looking guy. He was taller than six feet. She knew this because Kris was six feet, two-and-a-half inches; Roland was six feet, one inch; and her father was six feet even. Gary was taller than all of them. He had a golden brown complexion with very low-cut black hair and penetrating brown eyes. All of those features were enough to cause a second and third look. That’s without mention of the bulk of his muscles showing definitively through the suit he’d worn last night, and the dark denim jeans and long-sleeved, gray, button-front shirt he was wearing now.

      “I’m certain no man would have resisted kissing you, whether or not they knew you were a princess,” he finally replied.

      “So you kissed me knowing very well what other people would think?” she continued. The question popped quickly into her mind as she looked at him.

      “I’m not a member of a royal family. So I stopped giving a damn what people thought about me a long time ago. Now, I know that you’re fanatic about being on time, so I’m going to hurry us along so as not to break your record.”

      This time he extended his arm. Sam looked down at it to see that he was waiting for her to lace her arm through his and walk with him like...a couple. Or something along those lines. She began walking but avoided touching him. If he wanted to say something, or to insist that she take his arm, or whatever, he didn’t. Instead he fell into step quietly beside her and did not speak another word until they were both closed inside her father’s office, sitting in the chairs across from Rafe’s desk.

      That’s when he said, “It makes sense that the princess and I continue with the façade of a relationship.”

      * * *

      “Harry Copeland and Amari Taylor are sitting in jail. Neither has requested any counsel, nor have they given any indication as to why they conspired to attack the palace. The tribunal