AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He blinks. “What time is it?”
I look outside. “I don’t know…six? Seven?”
“Fuck no, I’m going back to bed.”
I nod. “Fine. I’ll tell the staff that you’re still sleeping off the celebration and have your assistant spin it to the press.”
He’s in the process of undoing the bed I just made when he looks up at me sharply. “Spin what?”
“The fact that we’re not together in public. That I’m out for my morning run, alone. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure the narrative is that the prince is tired and worn out.”
“Worn out?” His beautiful brows knit together.
“Sexually.”
Etienne appears horrified at the suggestion and I ignore the way that makes me feel. “The new princess is quite energetic and the groom simply can’t keep up. Well, I’m sure the paps will devise better wording. They know what they’re doing.”
He presses his lips together in an unamused line. His nostrils flare.
“Of course,” I continue, studying the ceiling and tapping my index finger to my chin, feigning deep thought. “The bodyguards will aid me when I accidentally step on a sharp clamshell. So, do not be concerned for my safety as I venture out alone on a foreign beach.”
A low growl sounds from the opposite side of the bed. Etienne stares at me like a man whose virility is being called into question.
He looks like he might come over to the bed and throw me down. I wish he would.
Oh, do I wish he would.
Alas, my husband, the prince, gives no response other than a series of monosyllabic grunts of indignation. I lift one eyebrow and say, before flouncing into the bathroom to change, “Come find me on the beach if you change your mind. I’m on my first and possibly only honeymoon, so I’m seizing the day. Enjoy your mid-morning nap.”
13
Etienne
I know what Kala’s doing.
She’s trying to provoke me.
My wife is also trying to tell me what to do, and I don’t like that.
I don’t flop back into bed like I’d planned. Instead, I pace around the room, watch TV, order room service, and take a cold shower—hoping this blasted erection will disappear.
If anything, this tent pole is even more painful now that Kala’s out of the room.
Have you ever told yourself not to think about something, then all you do is think of that thing? In my case, that thing is not a thing. It’s a taller-than-average woman with green eyes that stare too deeply, and pink lips too soft to be forgotten.
And those eyes and those lips belong to a crafty, ambitious, sober woman with the time and the will to make me look like the asshole in our agreed-upon divorce.
Sober.
That’s the key right there.
Kala wouldn’t have to try too hard to make me look like the asshole in a divorce. I do that pretty well on my own with no help from anyone.
And all things being equal, Ishouldbe the one to look like the bad guy. When we eventually divorce, I want her to come out of it better than how she entered our marriage. Kala won’t have access to royal income or resources, so the public must be one hundred percent on her side.
But still. We’re in paradise together, and she clearly doesn’t want to spend her time in paradise alone.
Behaving like an ill match on our honeymoon would look suspicious.
