Page 56 of A Royal Mistake

“I’ll join later,” she promised demurely. “After I’ve greeted all my guests.”

“Fair enough.” He dipped his chin. “I’ll leave you to it.”

Surprise flared in her chest. She’d expected him to put up a fight or try to convince her to stay.

“After all,” he continued, smirk firmly back in place, “my stock will probably double once you get a look at the rest of these wankers.”

Pippa rolled her eyes and turned on her heel.

“See you soon, Princess,” he called after her, chuckling at his own dim joke.

She headed for the cabana, saying hello to a few of the suitors as she passed. She didn’t stop to chat, though. Nope. What she needed was a snack to go with her cocktail. Then she’d be ready to socialize.

Pippa took a long drink, the fruity cocktail cool and refreshing, despite the kick of alcohol. When she lowered her lips to the straw for another taste, all she got for her efforts was an undignified gurgling and a splash of orange juice.

Bollocks.

Might as well get a refill while I’m at it.

She waved politely to a reporter hovering in the cabana’s shade, furiously scribbling in a spiral notebook. He was an older guy, and he looked right scandalized by the loud music and scantily clad suitors. No doubt this was the reporter her mother had approved. And from the looks of it, the queen had ordered he be stripped of technology before being admitted to the palace.

Pippa sighed. So much for cell phone pics.

She’d have to talk to Sarah about that later.

Until then, drinks and snacks. The bartender came over immediately, relieving her of her empty glass and pressing another fruity cocktail into her hand.

“You’re good.” It was the same delicious drink she’d just devoured. “What is it?”

“Sex on the Beach,” he said, wiping the perspiration from the counter with a white towel. “My specialty.”

Her brows shot up. “Excuse me?”

Surely she’d heard him wrong?

“It’s the name of the drink,” Henry said, appearing at her side, eyes dancing with laughter.

“I knew that.” She turned her head as if taking in the scenery and fanned her face.

“I assume this party was your idea?” he asked wryly, resting his elbows on the bar so that he faced the pool. “I can’t picture Her Majesty planning a poolside gala.”

Pippa rolled her eyes and turned to join him, resting her back against the edge of the bar. “I take it you received your invitation?” She looked him over. “Wait. Where’s your swimsuit?”

Henry snorted. “Probably the same place as yours.”

She scrutinized him more closely. “Doubtful. Unless, of course, you’re wearing a Speedo under your trousers?”

“Afraid not, Your Highness.”

“Truly?” She frowned. “You didn’t bring a swimsuit?”

“Why would I pack a swimsuit? I’m here on business.” He shifted his weight as he scanned the pool area. “Or I should be. Your brother keeps blowing me off.”

“Really?” She sipped her drink, considering. “That’s unlike Liam. He’s usually a stickler about honoring his commitments.”

“Not when it comes to me,” Henry said flatly.

Frustration—or maybe worry—lined his brow. She couldn’t fault him. He’d been at the palace for weeks and had nothing to show for his efforts.