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Chapter Nineteen
“Always go to the bathroom when you have a chance.”
—King George V
Between bouquets of pink and white flowers and the gold candelabra centerpieces, Jameson watched Dani throw her head back and laugh at something Liam Cooper said. Jealousy reared its acidic head, burning a path straight to his heart. It wasn’t a polite chuckle in response to required chitchat. It was throaty and genuine. And he recognized it because it was the way she’d laughed with him.
The night before, he’d been the one inside her, clutching her lush body against his, breathing in her scent as her pussy gripped his cock when she came. And now they were separated, forced to talk to people they didn’t want to.
You can’t speak for her. She seems to be enjoying herself.
True. When he’d first entered the room, his eyes had swept the crowd until he found her. She’d stood out, not because she was one of the few black people in the room, or because of what she was wearing. It was because of her essence. Her aura. She exuded this energy that was magnetic and drew him like a traveler of old following the North Star.
But upon locating her, he saw another man standing so close he could’ve been an additional appendage. Jameson’s first instinct had been to go over there and claim her. Let everyone know she belonged to him.
Where had that possessive streak come from? That wasn’t like him at all. He’d never been the jealous type.
But then, he’d never been with someone like Dani before. For the first time he understood how others must have felt dating a royal. Someone the world believed belonged to them, too. Everyone knew her. Hell, most people had seen her almost naked.
And that put him in a vulnerable state he hadn’t anticipated or known how to navigate.
None of this had been helped by Julian’s behavior during the receiving line.
“There she is,” Julian had said, jabbing his elbow into Jameson’s side. “Bloody hell, I thought her videos were sexy. She looks fucking unbelievable in person.”
Jameson’s hands had balled into fists. He could picture the drool falling from Julian’s mouth as they both watched Cooper place a hand on her waist and lean forward to whisper in her ear. A roaring noise filled his ears. If he’d been holding a champagne flute, he would’ve broken the stem. But he couldn’t say anything. To do so would give himself, and their relationship, away.
“Do you think he’s fucking her?” Julian whispered.
“What?” Jameson said, choking on his disgust and anger.
And jealousy.
“Of course he is. If her songs and videos are anything to go by. As a prince, I’m sure to get in there.”
God, his uncle was a piece of shit.
Jameson glared at Julian. “She’s here as our guest. You don’t want to piss her off before she’s scheduled to perform.”
“I don’t need you to tell me that,” he huffed before conceding, “You’re right. Mother would blow a gasket if that happened. Maybe afterwards...”
When Dani had reached Julian, the prince had clasped her hand and practically undressed her with his eyes before making a tasteless, inappropriate remark.
Jameson’s vision of the person in front of him had narrowed to pinpricks and he’d turned, ready to smash his fist into his uncle’s face, consequences be damned.
But Dani had handled the crown prince well. He knew she was angered by his comment, but she’d disentangled herself with a smile and a tart comeback before moving on.
And then she was before him.
His vision had cleared. His breathing slowed. And his heart steadied in his chest.
Mine.
A fact that had been reinforced when he’d taken her hand and felt their instant connection.
A wicked smile had tilted her luscious mouth and she’d looked up at him with brown eyes that promised everything he could handle and more.
But then she’d curtsied, addressed him by his title, and moved on. And the juxtaposition of her visual tease and prim actions made him harder than anything he could remember in a very long time.
