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Which makes me even more grateful she chose me.
“If you feel this strongly, who am I to stand in your way?” He smiles down at her. “I’ll leave you to your planning.” He curves toward her, lips seeking out hers. But at the last second, she turns her head, offering her cheek instead.
He kisses it, but his disappointment makes it obvious he’d hoped for more.
“I’ll be back at seven to escort you to the opera,” Jameson says, bowing slightly toward her.
“I’m looking forward to it.”
He doesn’t immediately retreat, the seconds seeming to stretch as he rakes his analytical gaze over her.
But after a lifetime as a royal, she’s mastered the art of putting up a façade. Jameson would have better luck breaking into the vault containing the Vatican Secret Archives than he would at trying to read Esme’s thoughts.
“It was good to see you again, Jameson.” I extend my hand toward him, hoping he gets the hint that this is his cue to leave.
“Lawson.” He places his hand in mine, a tense moment passing as we stare each other down.
Then he turns and makes his way out of the office.
Chapter Thirty
Esme
The instant Jameson disappears down the hallway, I push out a relieved breath.
After he stopped by unexpectedly to take me to tea, only for Lieutenant Hawkins to inform him he’d set aside some time this afternoon for Creed, I feared Jameson would realize something was going on between us. And to make matters worse, Creed showed up before I had a chance to tell Jameson about the shower we’re planning.
Regardless that he seemed to believe our cover story, I still can’t shake off his suspicion. I’d like to think he’d be more than understanding about the situation. But something about the way he stared at me unsettles me.
Or perhaps it’s my guilty conscience rearing its unwelcome head yet again.
Stalking over to the door, I close it and turn the lock as discreetly as possible, then face Creed.
“I’m sorry about that,” I ramble as I cross the office back toward him. “I wasn’t supposed to see him until later. We weren’t doing anything. We just—”
Gripping my biceps, Creed presses his lips to mine. “You don’t need to explain yourself to me.” His dark eyes swirl with sincerity and understanding. It’s so different from the normal look of suspicion and indifference I’m used to. “I’m more than aware of what I was getting into when I signed up for this.”
Expelling a long sigh, I wrap my arms around him, a weight lifting off me at the feel of his body against mine.
It’s only been twenty-four hours, but it may as well have been twenty-four years for how much I missed him. If we were a normal couple, I could have called or texted him. I can’t even do that without raising unnecessary suspicion.
“I understand how…frustrating this situation must be for you. If I were in your shoes and saw another woman kissing you…” I shake my head.
“Yes?” He pinches my chin, forcing my eyes to his.
“I’d hate it, Creed. I wouldn’t have remained as calm as you seemed just now.”
It’s odd to harbor this sort of jealousy, considering I’d intended for this to be purely physical. To keep emotions out of it.
But from that first night, I knew it was a losing battle. Trying to keep emotions out of this is like trying to control the weather. Some things are a force of nature.
And this thing between us most certainly qualifies as a force of nature, brutal and unexpected, yet also beautiful in its simplicity.
I just pray the effects don’t ravage us like the tornado I sense is forming in the distance now that we’re back under the scrutiny of the royal household.
“Make no mistake, princess. I was far from calm when I watched him touch you.” His mouth descends toward mine, hovering so close but remaining just out of reach, teasing and tempting. “Touch what’s mine.”
The atmosphere shifts, the possessiveness in his tone sending a shiver through me. I never thought I’d like the idea of belonging to anyone.
