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“Your Highness,” he greets with a slight bow as the butler retreats. Once we’re alone, he presses a soft kiss to my cheek. “You look absolutely stunning.” His voice is a seductive murmur, eyes flaming with appreciation as he takes in my fitted black gown that leaves my back exposed. “Then again, I always find you stunning.”
I want to tell him he doesn’t have to say things like this when we’re in private. Maybe it’s a good thing, though. Maybe it’ll make this feel less forced. More real.
“Thank you, Jameson.”
“Are you nervous about tonight?”
“It’s going to change a lot. Maybe not for you. You seem to welcome the spotlight. You’re a natural in front of reporters and photographers.”
“And you’re not?” he shoots back. “I’ve seen how comfortable you are with the public, especially children. And what of the modeling you’ve done? If anyone’s a natural in front of the camera, it’s you.”
“I know. I just—”
“I understand everything’s about to change.” He pinches my chin, tilting my head back, our eyes locking.
A week ago, the idea of sharing a personal moment like this with Jameson Gates made my skin crawl.
Now that I’ve gotten to know him on a deeper level, I actually like spending time with him. He may never make my stomach flutter or my heart skip a beat, but I respect and appreciate him, including all the good he’s done, most notably in helping refugees from war-torn countries rebuild their lives. Maybe that’s enough for me.
“We may both be used to the spotlight, but going public with our relationship will make us a perpetual target,” he continues. “Every single reporter, photographer, paparazzi will want to be the first to break the news about each tiny development in our relationship for months and years to come. Just promise me one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“That you won’t shut me out. We’re both in this together. And the only way we’ll get through it is if we have an open line of communication. Not only are we navigating a new relationship—”
“It’s not a new relationship. According to the dossier, we’ve been dating in secret for several months,” I retort sarcastically.
“Of course. My mistake.” He rolls his eyes. “Still. The next few months may be…trying.” He moves his hands to my face, his touch gentle and reassuring. “I just want you to know that you can always talk to me. And I hope I can talk to you. Especially when it comes to the table setting at the state dinner I’m supposed to attend with you in a few weeks.”
He drops his hold on me, running his long fingers through his blond hair. A shy smile tugs on his lips. “I’ve been studying the diagram. The amount of silverware boggles my mind. I grew up attending formal dinners, but we didn’t have that many forks, even during the fanciest of affairs.”
“To be honest, I don’t even know what all those forks are for.”
“Then I guess we’ll figure it out together. Much like we’ll figure this out.” He gestures between our two bodies.
“I guess we will.”
His light expression sobers, his gaze floating to my lips. He touches a hand to my lower back, pulling me against him as he curves toward me. I close my eyes, Jameson’s breath heating my skin.
Until a knock echoes, forcing him to increase his distance.
“Come in,” I instruct, somewhat relieved our kiss was interrupted.
“Ma’am,” my butler greets as he enters my suite once more. “Captain Lawson is ready to drive you and Mr. Gates to the hotel.”
“Tell him we’ll be right out.”
“Of course.” He spins on his heels, leaving me alone with Jameson.
“Shall we?” he asks, holding out his elbow for me.
“Thank you.” I loop my arm through his, allowing him to escort me through my apartment.
As we step into the foyer my apartment shares with the one across from it, which happens to be Anderson’s, I glance at the door, wondering if Creed’s inside. If he’s standing by the window, about to watch me leave with Jameson. I don’t have long to ruminate on that, Jameson steering me outside, where a man dressed in a dark suit waits for us beside an idling limo.
“Your Highness,” Adam greets with a bow.
The sight of him catches me off guard.
