The Controversial Princess(10)

By: Jodi Ellen Malpas

His eyebrow cocks, interested. “Would it be such a bad thing if we were seen together?”

“It would be a frightfully terrible thing, Mr. Jameson. The Princess of England cannot be seen to be cavorting with a Hollywood sex symbol.”

“Who said anything about cavorting?”

“I notice you have not challenged my portrayal of you.”

“Why would I? You are one hundred percent right, and even if you weren’t, I’m not likely to tell a member of the Royal Family they’re wrong.”

“Why me?” I ask, cutting off all the other games and getting to the point.

“Maybe I want to violate a princess.”

I laugh, probably a little too loudly. “I assure you, Mr. Jameson, I need no violating.”

“Oh, I have no doubt.” His hand meets the curve of my arse over my dress, and I go tense, scanning our surroundings for watchful eyes. “But you’ve never been violated by me. So, what do you say, Your Highness?”

His confidence does things to me that have never been done before. By any man. “Are you trying to get me into trouble, Mr. Jameson?” I need no help there. Just ask my private secretary and the head of communications at Kellington Palace. Actually, don’t ask. It’s best not to know.

Pulling his touch from my backside, he takes my hand and kisses the back through a smile. “Most definitely.”

I don’t know why I pout, like I could be pondering whether or not to dance to his tune. I’m going to let this man violate me, and I’m going to love every second of it. A glimpse of a picture of Josh Jameson could make my thighs tighten. Being in his presence, hearing his smooth accent, feeling him caress my bottom like it’s something to be worshipped, has me burning where I stand. I’m a princess, I mentally tell myself. Why I now feel the need to remind myself of that little matter, I haven’t the faintest idea. It is never usually an issue. But while Josh Jameson is Hollywood royalty and most women on earth would jump him at the first flash of his disarming smile, I am actual royalty. I am a royal princess and jumping a man in public would be highly frowned upon, and will definitely land me in hot water with the King. But what I do in private, away from these self-important idiots, is my own business. “I have a terrible habit of getting myself into trouble,” I tell him candidly.

“Want to get into trouble with me?” He steps back and lightly rests his hands in his pockets, waiting for my answer, smiling an adorable, irresistible smile as he does.

“That’s an offer one could never refuse.” I smile, too. I can only hope that it’s as enticing as his. Well, happy birthday to me. “What did you have in mind?”

“I have a gift for you.”

“You? Naked? With a bow covering …” I drop my eyes to his groin, chewing the inside of my lip. “Actually, no bow.”

He laughs, rich and deep. “You are like nothing I’ve ever encountered before, Your Highness.”

“Neither are you,” I admit, tingles licking up my spine.

“Is there anywhere private around the palace?” he asks, gazing around the grounds. “So I can give you my gift.”

“There is a maze of conifer trees at the most southern point of the grounds.” I look away, smiling at the many people smiling at me. “Meet me there in half an hour.”

His grin is wicked, and I just know his body and talents will be, too. Having a quick scan around us, he moves in toward me and slaps my arse. I jolt, despite it being a light rap. “Just warming up my palm,” he whispers in my ear. He’s lucky no security personnel are directly behind him. Said palm would be cuffed quite quickly. My body rolls deliciously, my insides furling. But I’m struggling to identify whether it’s with anticipation or nerves. It’s anticipation. It has to be. I don’t get nervous around men.

“Look forward to it,” I reply, strong and even.

“Me, too.” Jameson looks past me when someone catches his attention. “I’m wanted.”

“Don’t waste too much energy on talking now, will you?”

He laughs a little, landing me with eyes full of intentions that stimulate me. Half an hour might be too long to wait. “My energy levels won’t be an issue, Your Highness. But your tolerance levels may well be.” A cheeky wink is flipped, and my mouth drops open, astounded, but I’m mostly bubbling with exhilaration. My teeth nibble the edge of my glass as he saunters off across the lawn.

“You are a frightful flirt, Adeline Lockhart,” Matilda says, joining me, her eyes stuck on the exact same thing mine are: Josh Jameson’s delightful backside.