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Back home? As in the apartment at Kensington Palace? Or Primrose Park?
Or the United States?
“I warned you how it would be. The negative coverage, the judgmental stares and gossip, everyone having an opinion about what you do. This is it. This is the job.” He sighed and looked at his watch.“I wanted to stop by and see you for a quick second before I made my final rounds, but now I have to go.”
Dani curled her lip. “You would’ve had more time if you hadn’t stopped to shoot the shit with Imogen.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I’ll be back in thirty minutes and then we can leave.”
Fuck waiting here another half an hour!
“Don’t bother. I’ll see myself home. Have fun. Tell Imogen I said big ups!”
She pivoted on her heel and strode away, feeling his stare sear into her back.
But he didn’t follow her.
Chapter Nineteen
Memo to Duchess—
It’s the Royal Regatta not a Backyard Cookout!
Daily Star
A cookout!
Jameson put his iPad down on his desk as his pulse pounded in his ear. It was happening, just as he’d feared.
The coverage had possessed a similar tenor for the past week, since Dani’s event with Catherine, but it had intensified after the regatta. The same British press that had fawned over her now went into phase two of their plan, knowing they could make even more money tearing her down. They only cared about the sales and the clicks, with no regard for the life of the actual person.
Thankfully he and Dani had some time off before his scheduled three-day trip to Northern Ireland. The palace had initially planned for Dani to accompany him, but in light of the recent press trending negative, he’d received word today that he was to travel alone.
He knew Louisa had been informed, but he wasn’t aware if Dani knew yet. He hoped she wouldn’t be too disappointed, especially when she learned about the surprise he’d orchestrated to take her mind off their current situation. He’d started planning it after the hospital visit, but it appeared to be more timely than he’d thought.
Tension had simmered between them since their argument at the regatta. He’d hated quarreling with her, and the altercation left him tormented as it brought back feelings from their breakup during the tribute ball. He’d rushed through his final duties, his stomach twisted in knots until he’d gotten back to Kensington Palace and found her there. Only then could he catch his breath and calm his racing heart.
She was still upset, but she’d calmed down. She’d asked for some space and since she hadn’t left, he assented, grateful that whatever was going on, she wasn’t fleeing back to America.
That space had continued as they’d packed up and headed back to Primrose Park, where they’d stay until he left for Northern Ireland.
And she received her surprise.
Speaking of surprises...
“Well, this is a disaster,” Dani said, flopping down on the sofa in his office.
“I know,” he said, bracing his elbow on the arm of his chair and watching her.
She was informally attired in a navy, white, and orange color-block dress that zipped up the front and lightly skimmed her curves. She’d pulled her hair up into a pouf on her head with two thin braids framing her face.
She was so goddamned pretty he wanted to go over and pull her close. But he didn’t dare.
Not yet.
She bit her lip and gazed up at him from beneath lowered lashes. “If you say I told you so, I will kill you. I will literally kill you.”
His hand started shaking as relief and gratitude surged through him. He cleared his emotion-blocked throat. “No, you won’t.”
