Recklessly Royal
Page 15

 Nichole Chase

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To the cheers and applause of the audience, Alex dipped Sam backward and kissed her soundly. I covered my mouth as I laughed, my eyes darting to where my mother sat. Her broad smile was unmistakable as my aunt leaned next to her and whispered. When Alex finally let Sam up for air her cheeks were pink and a content smile brightened her face.
As they stepped down from the dais, Jess moved forward to straighten Sam’s train and to return the wedding bouquet. At the bottom of the stairs, Alex bowed and Sam curtsied to Mother before making the long walk back to the palace. I could see them laughing as they walked, waving to friends and familiar faces. As I stepped carefully down the stairs a pair of warm eyes caught my attention.
David watched me with a small smile, but there was something in his eyes I hadn’t noticed in another man’s gaze before. Hunger. Just good, old-fashioned lust, and it sent a shiver down my spine. His eyes traveled over the tight-fitting satin of my dress and back to the barely noticeable cle**age.
I might never have a relationship like Sam and Alex. Hell, I might never find that type of love. But I could find someone to make my blood run hot for one night.
The last boy I had dated had treated me like a trophy, showing me off at parties. Even his kissing had been more like battle than something passionate; as if he was trying to lay claim to me, instead of loving everything I am.
Most girls wanted a man who made them feel like a princess, but I wanted one who made me feel like a woman.
And I think I’d just figured out who that was going to be. I’d just have to convince him as well.
SIX
MUSIC SPILLED OUT of the ballroom and into the night air on the patio. People milled about, chatting and munching on tiny crab cakes and crackers with cheese. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and the stars twinkled high above the leafy trees along the stone patio.
I took a deep breath, enjoying the crisp spring air and the space away from everyone who was dancing. After spending time relaxing and cutting loose at the bachelorette party, it felt constraining to be Princess Catherine while everyone else had fun. I had danced with dignitaries, with Max, and even with Chadwick. I’d danced with “friends” and distant cousins. I’d made small talk with people who thought they knew me and I managed to not barf at their annoying jokes. When I had seen Kyle—the disgusting worm of an ex-friend—making his way across the room toward me, I’d decided it was time to make an exit. A fast one.
So instead of playing Perfect Princess Catherine, I was outside, leaning against the railing, sipping ice water.
Trying to come up with a plan for seducing the one man who seemed to detest my title, but craved my body.
David was the polar opposite of my old pal Kyle, or Jake, my last boyfriend. They had wanted my virginity, but only because they saw it as a status symbol. Something to brag about to their friends. “Hey guys, I deflowered a princess last night.”
I sighed and drank some more water. Okay, they probably would have come up with some much more crude than deflower.
“Are you hiding?” a little voice asked near my hip.
I looked down at the little boy with red hair and smiled. I couldn’t remember the little guy’s name, but I knew that he was Duke Thysmer’s great-grandson. Another one of the royal families that had been returned to their title and lands.
“A little bit,” I said.
“I thought so.” He moved to the rail next to me and stood on his tiptoes to look over the edge. “Me too. I don’t like the music.”
“And why’s that?” My lips twitched. “I heard someone say that this is one of the best bands available.”
“Yuck. They don’t play anything fun. It’s all old people music.” He scrunched up his nose.
“I hated this type of music when I was your age too.”
“Yeah? Don’t you still hate it?” He looked up at me with curiosity.
“Nope.” I shook my head.
“Why not?”
“Dancing.” I set my glass down and turned to look at him directly.
“Dancing?” He made a face. “Like gross dancing?”
I laughed. “What’s gross dancing?”
“Like them.” He jerked his head toward the spot where Sam and Alex swayed in the center of the dance floor.
“Well, that dancing is nice too, but what about . . . the funky chicken?”
His giggle lifted my spirits. “You don’t do the funky chicken!”
“Of course I do!” I put a hand to my chest. “Why wouldn’t I do the funky chicken?”
“You’re too princess-y!” He giggled again.
“Oh yeah? I bet you can’t do it.”
“Can too!” He laughed.
“Nah-uh. Don’t believe it. You’re too little.” I narrowed my eyes. “You’re too small.”
“I really can! See?” Tucking his hands under his arms he flapped his elbows like wings and bucked his head.
It took every drop of willpower not to burst out laughing. “You’re okay.”
“You can’t do any better.”
“Of course I can!” Folding my arms against my body I flapped my fake wings and clucked. I took a few steps, bobbing up and down.
The little boy wrapped his arms around his stomach and laughed loudly. I clucked at him and he laughed harder, his little eyes squeezing shut.
“Those are some impressive moves.” David’s voice froze me in place. “Especially to that fantastic classical music.”