Page 92 of Tabloid Princess

It didn’t matter though.

Because I knew it too. I’d walk with him to that executioner’s block and kneel at his side.

And that was the scariest thought I’d ever had.

Nineteen

The knock on the front door woke me, which was good considering I had a glass of wine balanced precariously on my knee.

Friday night, Leia Lawrence style.

Putting the glass down on the coffee table, I stretched and glanced at the time on the kitchen wall. Quarter to ten. Wow, I was living life on the edge.

I peered through the peep hole trying to make out the shadowy shape the other side of the door. The white shirt and black tie gave it away. “Bill?” I swung the door open.

“Ma’am, you should never answer the door.”

“But you just knocked on it.”

He flashed me a grin. “Can I come and do a sweep please?”

“Wh…” My question trailed off. Out in the street, under the cover of darkness sat a black vehicle I had become all too familiar with. “Oh.” My pulse spiked just from knowing he sat in the car.

Bill darted around me. It should have been odd. My grip on reality had officially failed. “Be careful with the top room on the right please.” I whispered after him, but he already padded down the stairs, his steps panther like.

“All good. I apologise for the intrusion.” He nodded his head. “Enjoy your evening.”

“My evening,” I mumbled. “My evening is done.”

He flashed me a quick smile and then stepped back to the car.

This couldn’t be happening. Oliver had come to my house? Why?

“All clear, Sir,” I heard him tell his boss as he opened up the door.

Oh good lord above.

Oliver unfolded himself from the car and patted his guard on the arm. Dressed in an immaculate dark suit, his beauty could have made a grown woman cry—in fact it nearly did. “You surprise me, Bill. Like I expected it to be anything else.”

Then his eyes were on me, his smile broad as he stepped quicker down the pathway to the house. “I apologise for the late hour. I’ve just finished a function. May I come in?”

He wanted to come into my little house? “Uh.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Without a backward glance to his car which pulled away from the street with its lights off, he stepped through the door and closed it behind him.

“But I haven’t tidied. There is Lego everywhere,” I muttered, but my ability to talk became severely hampered by his fingers sliding along my throat, cradling my face in that hold he had. I couldn’t process the fact I stood in my faded tracksuit. I’d save that to cringe over a different day.

“I’m sorry. This breaks all protocol, but you seem to bring out my reckless side.” I shrank a little, but he quirked his lips at me and my momentary flash of worry that this was in fact the stupidest thing two people had ever contemplated flitted out of my mind as quick as it arrived.

I had no words. None. His fingers drifted across my cheek, his gaze burning as it rested on my open mouth.

He lowered his head slowly, the moment spinning for a million years. “Definitely a protocol breaker,” he murmured as his lips brushed mine. I inhaled a gasped breath, that flashing fire just the simplest of his kisses sparked swarmed over me. He pushed me back against the door, his body pinning me in place as his kiss deepened. His tongue probed between my teeth, seeking access and I opened to receive him, breathing and tasting the tang of mint on his tongue combined with a smokiness that hinted at whisky. I hated the stuff, but fuck it tasted good on him.

When he broke the kiss, his eyes remained closed, his forehead pressed against mine. “That was worth leaving the dinner early for.”

“Early?”