Page 151 of American Royalty


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Chapter Twenty-Five

“Ooh, baby, what you do to me / Love me right, grind it slow on me / Busy bitch with things to do / But you got this bitch chasing after you...”

—Duchess, “Mind Games”

At night, Farnborough, a full-service private airport outside of London, was breathtaking, with a glowing green light that illuminated the far end of the award-winning sculptural design. But Dani wasn’t in the mood to appreciate its beauty. She sat in the cream leather club chair of the private plane she’d chartered, snuggling beneath the blanket she’d been given and waiting to take off. The sooner she could get out of this fucking country, the faster she could put everything behind her and get her life back on track.

Across from her, Nyla ended a call. “I told Bennie what was happening. She and a publicist are going to meet us at your house in L.A. tomorrow afternoon.”

“Thank you.” She flashed her friend a grateful, if wan, smile.

Nyla had caught up with Dani as she’d been wandering around the behemoth palace, frantically searching for an exit.

“Why in the fuck does this place exist?” she’d raged, after backing out of a space just like the one she’d stumbled upon moments before. “Who needs this many fucking rooms?”

When Jameson’s bodyguard appeared, she’d been ready to fight, believing he’d come to take her back to that condensed, modern-day version ofGame of Thrones. But he hadn’t. He’d escorted her and Nyla out of the palace, ensuring they avoided any guests or members of the press, and provided them a car and driver who’d been instructed to take them anywhere they wanted to go.

Dani had meant it when she told Jameson to leave her alone, but the fact that he didn’t even try to come after her...

“Tasha and the rest of the team will keep their original travel plans,” Nyla continued.

Her assistant had made miracles happen, securing her and Nyla seats on a plane leaving London and meeting its owner in New York. From there, they’d hop another chartered flight to L.A. Tasha had even sent one of the dancers over to meet them with their passports and other essentials. Dani was willing to deal with the choppy travel if it meant getting home and coming up with a plan. She couldn’t have spent all this time and done all this work to have Genesis back away at the last minute.

Yes, the deal with Genesis. That’s the reason you’re curled into the fetal position, your chest burning as if someone punched a hole through it. If you focus on the work, you won’t have to focus on the pain you feel about Jameson and his dishonesty.

That pain cut so deep if she allowed herself to think of it, she could barely breathe.

This was her fault. She’d hastily opened herself up and allowed him access, not just into her body but into her heart, sharing pieces of herself she’d shown to only a select few. But it had been the quickness, and strength, of their connection that convinced her it was genuine. As her feelings had grown, she’d been thinking of allthe obvious reasons they couldn’t work—his being royalty, her being an entertainer, living on different continents—but in the end, it had come down to something that had nothing to do with the fantastical nature of their lives.

He’d betrayed her trust.

Annoyed for letting thoughts about Jameson penetrate her painstakingly reconstructed emotional fortress, she leaned forward and asked the approaching flight attendant, “Excuse me? Why are we still sitting here?”

The young man wrinkled his brow. “Let me check.”

A few minutes later, the pilot came over the loudspeaker. “Sorry, Duchess. We were cleared for takeoff but then given orders to stand by. I’m waiting for further instructions.”

Nyla bit her lip and shifted in her chair, but when Dani met her gaze, she shrugged.

Dani tightened the blanket over her shoulders and rearranged the voluminous layers of her skirt, cursing the impulsivity that had prevented her from stopping by her suite and changing out of her gown. She could always purchase an outfit when they got to New York, but that meant she’d be stewing in a puff of tulle for the next seven hours.

The phone in the galley rang. The flight attendant answered it, then pressed a button to lower the staircase.

Dani frowned. “What’s going on? Is something wrong with the plane?”

Footfalls thundered up the steps and his massive frame filled the doorway.

Jay.

Still dressed in his formal white tie from the ball, albeit a little more disheveled. Still able to dwarf any space he was in, even the cabin of a luxury private jet, with his presence.

Damn him.

Nyla unbuckled her belt and stood. “I’ll give you two a moment.”

Dani narrowed her eyes at her friend’s retreating back.

Traitor.

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