Page 10 of Royal Trouble
“You don’t have to—”
“I know I don’t have to,” he said, taking her arm and slipping it through his. “I want to.”
Everly snorted. “Oh,nowyou’re a gentleman?”
Xander chuckled and unlocked the door then led her through the lobby and out the main exit. They walked in surprisingly comfortable silence, smiling and nodding as they passed other wedding guests. His guards trailed them, keeping a respectful distance.
When they reached Everly’s car, she unlocked the door and started to shrug out of the jacket.
“Don’t.” He grabbed the lapels and closed it over her chest. “Keep it. Or return it to me later, if you want, but I’m not letting you leave here without that perky little arse covered.”
Everly gasped. “You totally checked out my ass!”
“And now I’m asking for your number.” He closed the distance between them, leaving her between his body and the car. “You still owe me a drink.”
Everly looked up at him from under her lashes, the fluorescent lights of the parking lot doing nothing to diminish her loveliness. “I—I appreciate your help back there, and I’ll return your jacket, but I can’t have drinks with you.”
He’d expected her to say as much, butcan’twasn’t the same asnotinterested. “Why not?”
“Because I have no intention of becoming tabloid fodder.” She flinched as she said it, as if she actually felt guilty for saying it aloud.
He moved in even closer, planting one hand on the door and one on the roof of the car. “Then I guess it’s a good thing I’m turning over a new leaf. One that doesn’t include a standing front page spread inThe Daily Scoop.”
Royal Romance Brewing?
His Royal Highness Prince Alexander was spotted cozying up to an unnamed brunette at the wedding of Lucy Calhoun and Maximillian Donahue this weekend. HRH has never been subtle in his exploits, and the Calhoun-Donahue wedding was no exception. We hear the royal spare was working the room (and the bar) before ducking out for a bit of fresh air with his mystery woman.
And color us shocked, but we can’t help but notice she’s wearing HRH’s jacket, which, trust us, is a first.
So who is the lucky lady and will we see her again? Seems unlikely. Despite the fact that these two were photographed getting closer than a pair of thirsty teens at a high school dance, it’s not HRH’s style. We’re big fans, but the royal rogue isn’t exactly known for longevity (at least, not outside the bedroom), so we’re chalking this one up to flavor of the week.
Even more shocking, wedding guests say the pair left the venue separately. Probably a good thing, since the official guest list shows HRH escorting none other than Lady Charlotte Dupont. (Yes, THAT Charlotte Dupont.)
You know us, we like a good scandal as much as the next person, so we can’t help but wonder what (or who) HRH did after he dropped his date off at home, and whether there’s a catfight brewing in the Valerian court. If so, you know where our money’s at. We love underdogs, but sometimes you’ve gotta bet on a sure thing.
Chapter Three
Everly rolled onto her back and stretched, sore muscles protesting as her fingers scraped against the wooden headboard of Lucy’s guest bed. The apartment was eerily quiet, a silent reminder that her best friend was heading to the Maldives for a month-long honeymoon while she lay here sleeping the day away. She pulled herself up to a sitting position and grabbed her phone from the nightstand.
One look at the screen confirmed what she already suspected. She’d overslept. Not that it mattered, though. Her flight home wasn’t until tomorrow, which meant she had the whole glorious day to do nothing except rest her aching feet with a soak in the tub. And scrub away the memory of her humiliating wardrobe malfunction so she never had to think about it again. Ever.
Sunlight spilled through the blinds, slanting across the white duvet and settling like a spotlight on the black jacket draped across the foot of the bed. Running into the wayward spare had been the worst kind of temptation: tall, blond, and sexy.
Not to mention cocky, annoying, and entitled.
And it had still taken all her self-control to decline his offer to meet up for drinks.
Leaning back against the headboard, Everly opened her email and began the mindless process of deleting junk mail and spam. Delete. Delete. Delete. Then, halfway through her inbox, she saw an email from Guy Larson.Human Interest Position. Her finger hovered over the subject line for a beat before she tapped the screen to open the message.
“For the love of all that is holy, please be a job offer.”
She quickly scanned the note, heart sinking.
Miss Winston,
I saw your picture in The Daily Scoop this morning. You work fast. I admit I’m impressed. When you left my office, I wasn’t sure you were up for the challenge, but I’m looking forward to your submission.
Guy Larson