Page 34 of A Royal Mistake

Nothing gets us out of bed in the morning faster than a hot tip, and we’ve got a scorcher today! Palace insiders say The Princess Royal sent two of her suitors packing in a total badass move yesterday. Which has us wondering, what exactly does it take for a royal suitor to get ejected from the palace?

Questionable moral fiber? Roving hands? Halitosis? (Our money is on door number three, because bad breath is no joke y’all.)

So, who were the poor sods to get the axe? Palace officials declined to comment, but Philip Sheffield and Sir Nicolas de Behr were spotted at the royal airfield, and all we have to say is #NailedIt. In terms of prospects, it’s no great loss (sorry, guys!) given there are still ten seriously hot, super-eligible bachelors vying for HRH’s hand.

Not to mention one hottie with a heart of gold. (No, we haven’t forgotten about von der Recke or those thighs!)

It might be late in the game, but we’re thinking of starting a suitor pool. If HRH is going to be all ‘Off with their heads!’ over the smallest infraction (see: roving hands) we want in on the action. In fact, we’ll lay odds the Duke of Lancaster is next on HRH’s chopping block. #BritsNeedNotApply

On the other hand, it might be fun to keep him around and cut him loose on Independence Day for old times’ sake.

Either way, we applaud HRH’s bold statement and wish her the best of luck finding her perfect match (which, as far as we’re concerned, is the guy who gives the best orgasms). From the looks of it, these suitors need to go big or risk going home, which means things inside the palace are about to get VERY interesting!

9

Pippa stolea glance at Sarah and shifted the ginormous basket of chocolate that was three seconds from hitting the floor. The damn thing had to weigh as much as she did. Who the hell needed this much candy? The royal family could eat every meal from the basket for a week and not even put a dent in it.

The smart thing to do would be to ask Sarah for a hand, but she couldn’t do that. Not after making a big show of demanding her independence. Which meant she had to figure this out on her own. Problem was, she could scarcely move for fear of dropping the basket. No way could she free up a hand to knock on the door.

A foot however…

She turned around slowly, careful not to drop the basket, and gave the door three swift kicks with the heel of her sandal. It wasn’t dignified, and Miss Cartwright would twist her ear for such unladylike behavior, but it got the job done. She turned back around just as the knob twisted and Henry opened the door.

Well, she assumed it was Henry. She couldn’t really see over the tower of chocolate.

The scent of rosewood and cardamom tickled her nose. Oh, yeah. It was definitely Henry. The sweet, spicy combination was uniquely his. As was the snicker that followed.

Was he laughing at her?

“Why, sweetheart, you shouldn’t have.” There was a teasing lilt to his words and she could easily picture his annoying smirk and the way it hooked up on the right side, almost, but not quite, revealing a dimple.

Henry actually had two dimples—a perfectly matched set—and when he smiled, they were breathtaking.

“I didn’t.” She stepped forward and thrust the basket toward him. Well, toward where she thought he was standing. The weight of the basket eased, and his fingertips brushed the underside of her breasts as he wrapped them around the chocolate albatross. It was a harmless, accidental gesture. He probably didn’t even realize he’d done it. But that didn’t stop her belly from fluttering with excitement. “You can send a thank-you card to Christian Delacroix if you want to thank someone.”

“Wait.” Henry studied her over the top of the basket, brows pulled low. “Did you just re-gift me a basket of chocolate from another man? Doesn’t that breach like, so many royal protocols?”

She shrugged and slipped past him into the suite. “If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be up to my tiara in chocolates. Ever since you made a big deal of gifting me those truffles, it’s like the guys are competing to see who can get the biggest, most expensive box of chocolate on the continent. I’ve received chocolate bouquets, gold-plated chocolate eggs, oh, and a five-pound chocolate bar with the Count ofÉvreux’s face molded on it.” She shuddered and dropped her bag on the sitting-room table. “Because that’s romantic.”

Henry howled with laughter and deposited the massive chocolate tower on a side table near the door. He gave it a cursory once over, as if making sure the antique piece could handle the weight. She had doubts herself.

When Henry turned to her, his eyes were alight with mischief. “Word of advice, Your Highness. Any guy who feels the need to show off with a super-sized box of chocolate is compensating for a shortcoming in another, far more important area.”

Pippa rolled her eyes and took a seat on the settee, pretending to be completely unaware of the flush creeping up her neck. “You sound just like my brothers. Honestly, what is it with guys and their obsession with the length of other men’s swords?”

“Probably leftover from the Middle Ages.” He shrugged and sat down next to her. This had become their habit, because it was easier to work together when they could share their files without getting up or passing them across the table. The Louis XV chair was still there if she needed it, but she hadn’t used it in over a week. “Should I even ask why you’re late? I was starting to think you were going to blow me off.”

“No chance of that happening.” She stretched her arms over her head and arched her back. That damn basket had done a number on her muscles. “Just another mind-numbing dinner date.”

“And here I thought you’d dressed up for me.” Henry’s gaze slid over her body, leaving a blazing trail of fire in its wake. She had worn the little black dress for him, but she wasn’t about to admit it, even if he was making hungry eyes at her. “Who was the lucky bastard tonight?”

“Christian Delacroix, Duke of Newcastle.”

“Delacroix,” he said slowly, as if trying the name out. “He’s Valerian, right? Why do I know that name?”

Pippa sighed. “Delacroix hotels. Christian will inherit the family empire someday.”

“Look at the bright side.” He winked at her. “You’ll have five-star accommodations wherever you go.”