Page 14 of Lone Spy

The conversation and clink of glass is almost louder than the music coming from the ornate Erard grand piano. It fits the room perfectly, adorned and embellished on every surface except the keys. The three legs look like they belong on a mythical beast—pawed and feathered. Paintings of cherubic angels trumpet along the sides.

I sip my champagne, resisting the urge to tilt my head back and stare at the intricate ceiling. Zade catches my eyes and raises one brow.Not in Kansas anymore.

I grin back.Definitely not Kansas.

My gaze tracks back over the crowd until it lands on Ash. He stands against the wall, hands clasped in front of him, eyes on me. I swallow an unnamable emotion and offer a soft smile. His gaze falls behind me and a faint line of concern etches into his brow.

Turning my head, I scan the crowd—tuxedos, gowns, and heavy jewelry. My breath stalls. There is a man staring at me.

Ebony eyes under black brows. Obsidian hair gilded by the room’s golden light. Full lips a few shades redder than his amber skin—as if they are slightly embarrassed by how good-looking he is and what a heavy look he's giving the stranger across the room. I turn away, feeling heat crawl up my chest.

I don't blush at men's looks. I take power from them.

"Oh my god," Hannah says, leaning close. "That man wants to eat you for dinner."

"They all do," Zade points out.

"Yes, but that one." Hannah is looking past me at the hauntingly beautiful stranger. "He doesn't look afraid to try. They usually look scared."

"That's because Ash is usually mean-mugging them." Zade takes a sip of their champagne before raising their flute to Ash in a salute. "Like he's doing now."

I glance over at Ash again. His expression doesn't seem much changed—the man is in an almost constant state of mean-mugging—but the line in his brow that first drew my attention to Hungry Eyes has deepened slightly.

"That's just his face," Hannah says.

"Maybe," Zade admits. "But I've gotten a smile out of him more than once."

"How?" Hannah asks, her tone breathless—as if Zade has accomplished some great feat. I laugh.

Zade shrugs and tips their chin down coquettishly. "A lady never tells."

Hannah and I both laugh. The crowd shifts around us and we all follow the movement to see Victoria Elizabeth and Benjamin Arthur—aka the Duke and Duchess of Balmoral—approaching.

Victoria Elizabeth is one of those wispy women—all long limbs and elegant movements. Her blonde hair is swept up with a diamond tiara nestled in the thick locks. A glitter of copper eyeshadow brings out the honey tones of her brown eyes.

Her husband walks slightly behind her, almost like a bodyguard. But with a nicer tux. He is broad, strong, and wearing his penguin suit like he was born in one—which he might have been. A member of the aristocracy and a noted actor, Benjamin Arthur is handsome in a classic sense. Strong jaw and nose, full head of brown hair, and straight, white teeth.

The princess offers me a warm smile and extends her hand. I take it and resist the urge to curtsy. She is third in line to the throne. Her grandmother occupies it now and her father will be next. Then Victoria. One day this woman will be the queen of England. And she’s smiling at me like we could be friends.

Her grip is just the right amount of pressure. She's not squeezing the life out of me but also isn't afraid to make contact. "It's such a pleasure to finally meet you," she says, her accent as crisp as a fall morning.

"The honor is mine," I say.

The princess shakes her head as if she's embarrassed by her power. "Please," she says. "I'm a huge admirer of your work. We watchedThe Benefactorlast night. A masterpiece." She turns to Hannah. "You did a wonderful job."

"Thank you," Hannah says.

"So true," the duke says, his voice a boom compared to his wife's soft purr. "I loved it. Exceptional work. Did you do the makeup?" he asks Zade.

"Yes, I did," Zade says, their expression surprised. The duke notices makeup? It makes sense, though, as he was in the industry.

Benjamin turns his attention to Hannah and starts to compliment her on the film, going into detail of what he likes about her work. Hannah glows under the praise. The princess and I stand next to each other on the periphery of the conversation. She leans close, creating an intimate space between us. "Thank you so much for attending and donating your time. It means the world to the kids."

"I'm happy to do it," I reply, surprised by the earnestness in her voice. She seems to actually care. "Your organization really helped mine. I'm very happy to return the favor in any way I can."

"That's kind of you. I know your schedule must be mad."

I let out a surprised laugh. "Yes, something I'm sure you know a little about." She gives me a self-deprecating smile. "Do you think we could find a moment alone together tomorrow?" I ask.

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