“The Prince and Princess of Wales?”
“Silly question?” Her brow flickers.Hopefully?I’m not sure.
“A gentleman never dines and discusses.”
A little growl sounds from her throat, and she eyes me as though if she stares hard enough, I’ll disappear in a puff of smoke.
“There’s an exhibition taking place at the palace over the next few weeks, and tonight is the inaugural gala evening. Fashion, jewels, some link between Crown and celebrity is the theme, I believe.”
“Okay.” Eve lowers herself to the opposite sofa without loosening her arms. “So, kind of fancy.”
“Yes. I imagine there will be all kinds of celebrities attending. Minor royalty, foreign dignitaries, that sort of thing.”
“What will you be wearing?”
“Why? Do you want to choose my outfit?” I regret the words as soon as they fall from my mouth. “That was a joke,” I qualify quickly.
“Don’t you trust me?”
“Men’s clothing is different. Boring. It’s not like there’s a lot of choice,” I hedge. The way things are, I wouldn’t put it past her to outfit me in drag. Not that I’m giving her the opportunity.
“Oh, come on,” she says, suddenly crossing her legs, putting me in the mind of how a cat behaves right before it pounces. “What’s good for the goose is good for the gander, right? I’ll even take professional advice, like you have.”
“You want to dress me?”I’d rather you undress me.
“Not tonight. Some other time. Tit for tat.”
God help me. God help my thickening cock at the remembrance of the last time she said that.
“What kind of professional advice?”
“I’ll consult your tailor.” She flicks a shoulder. “Or whatever.”
“You’ll stop harassing me about the dress if I let you choose my outfit next time.”
“If I like it and I wear it, I think that’s a fair trade. Unless you’re under the impression I can convince this important person of ourlovein one evening.”
“It’s unlikely to be one evening’s work,” I agree.
“I still think it’s weird how most people just want the best price for their property, not to tell the buyers what to do with it.”
“It’s been in his family for generations. It has cultural and historical significance”—as well as some other things I’ve yet to mention—“but in essence, it’s the place of his birth. It just happens to have seventy bedrooms.”
“Eish.”She scrunches her nose. “Just don’t say you want me to pretend we’re going to fill all those rooms with kids.”
“Just an heir. And perhaps a spare.” I point my finger over at the trolley again. “Try it on, and you’ll have yourself a deal.”
“I get to dress you next time?” Her sudden excitement seems disproportionate to our agreement.
“Why not?” I answer as though she’s worn me down.
She practically bounces up from the sofa. “Then I guess I’ll see you in half an hour.”
“Thirty minutes?” I repeat doubtfully, then watch as she pivots, changing direction as she crosses the space between us. “What are you doing?” My words come out low and rough, my entire skin suddenly pierced by a million hot, pleasurable pins as she loops her elegant fingers around my wrist.
“Six fifteen,” she says, reading my watch upside down. “What time are we going out?” Her eyes lift. They seem so gold in this light.
“The car will be here at eight,” I reply, rusty voiced by her proximity.
