Page 42 of Royally Arranged

Her anger soothed some of mine. Lowering my head, I looked at the case in her hands. “Youare, Ma. I know that. But you’re kidding yourself if you think Dad gives a shit about helping me.” The memory of what he’d said in the garden cut my soul into ribbons. “I don’t think he appreciates that I’m choosing this family over my own desires.”

“Ease up on your father.”

“Maybe when he eases up on me.”

“You’ve got no idea what he’s been through!”

I do have some idea. But everything I learned, I learned from other people,I thought sullenly. Pointing my toes to the side, I walked around her, opening the door wide. “You’re right. I don’t have a clue because he never talks to me. Go, please. I need to get cleaned up and dressed.” I gestured out into the hallway.

Her face fell. Then she lifted her nose high, finding some of her familiar pride as she swept past me. Looking over her shoulder, she waved the box. “What about the rings?”

Those fucking rings.My hand tightened, white knuckled, on the door. “I don’t need that secondhand trash.” My mother’s eyes widened. I almost felt bad; she’d meant to help. I knew that. It was her cavalier attitude that had gotten under my skin. She thought the ring didn’t matter.

But I knew it should. Just like I knewIshould.

- CHAPTER SEVENTEEN -

NOVA

I’d woken up before daybreak, then spent the hour before the sun tickled the sky doing my hair in the mirror. When the servants my mother had arranged to do my makeup and hair arrived, they’d looked at my work and been unsure what was left for them to do. But I couldn’t help it—I had to stay busy.

Every minute that I was allowed to think ... Thorne came spiraling into my mind.

And then everything got harder.

Eating.

Talking.

Walking.

It all was swept behind the rest of my synapses that were eager to gorge themselves on Hawthorne. Squirming in the chair in front of my vanity, I pressed my knees together. Following his directions was incredibly arousing. The old me, if faced with his dominant filthiness, would have fainted.

Just breathe,I reminded myself, touching the stray pieces of hair that had escaped my French updo.Remember how brave you are now.I hesitated.And going all weak in the knees has nothing to do with fear, anyway. He’s too hot for anyone to be unaffected, that includes me.

With a final press of some gloss on my lips, I left my room. The maids in the hall tipped their chins at me as I passed. “You look beautiful,” one of them said politely. “Like a delicate flower.”

That was nice—but would she say that if she knew I was naked beneath my dress like some sex-obsessed monster?

Probably not.

My mother spotted me when I crossed the steps from the patio that led to the rose garden path. She was sitting at a gazebo, her head covered in a floppy hat. In front of her was Carmina, Thorne’s mother. I didn’t know if they’d been talking before I appeared, but they were tight-lipped now. The only thing their mouths opened for was to drink the Bloody Marys that had been arranged for them on the table.

“Nova!” Mom called.

I was tempted to ignore her and just walk into the garden maze. Instead I moved toward her, chiding myself for my wicked thought. I owed so much to my mother. The least I could do was come when she called.

“Hi, Mom,” I said, leaning in to kiss her cheek. She traced my arm, then her hand fell away, grabbing for her drink. “Are you two going to sit here while the photos are taken?”

“Yes,” Carmina said, smiling my way. She had sharp eyes; under her observation, I was suddenly cut apart. My dress became too thin, my makeup and hair a sham, my grace an act; a frailer woman would have crumbled, begging to be accepted by her. I came close to it.

Reaching out, I spread my fingers. “Mrs.Badd, we never really got a proper introduction. It’s nice to meet you, and nice to have you here supporting your husband and son.”

Her eyebrows inched down slowly. Then she reached out, shaking my hand. The silver bracelet she wore caught the light and glinted. “Thank you. I’ll say that supporting Thorne hasn’t been too hard, he’s a good son. Plus he likes you.” She winked.

Laughing, I let her go. “Thank you. Love your bracelet, by the way.”

“Oh!” Her eyes sparkled with pleasure as she showed it off. “Like I said, Thorne is a good son. He bought this for me yesterday.”

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