Page 41 of Royal Games (The Royals of Monterra)

It was like I was hopped up on half a bag of Halloween candy. And considering that I was regularly hopped up on candy, I knew exactly what that felt like.

Finally, it was our turn. I couldn’t wait for the bellhop to load up our bags. I grabbed my overnight bag that Lemon had helped me pack from the pile. “Do we have to check in?” I asked.

“All taken care of,” he said, grabbing my hand. We hurried, leaving our camera crew behind. They hadn’t even assembled their equipment yet. They weren’t going to be happy that we were racing off, but they’d have to get over it. I wasn’t willing to wait.

Despite the fact that most of the people around us were wearing costumes, we were the ones attracting attention. To be more accurate, Rafe was drawing the gaze of every woman in a slutty superhero getup. People at these events did not normally look like he did, unless they were movie stars doing a panel. For the sake of my sanity, I hoped his costume had a mask.

We headed straight for the elevator bay. I took a deep breath. I was usually okay with elevators. And I had Rafe with me, which made it seem not as bad.

The down arrow lit up and dinged, and the doors slid open. We waited for several people to clear out before getting in. We were the only ones who boarded. “Which floor?” I asked.

“The fiftieth floor.” He grabbed me, pulling me in for a quick selfie after I pushed the button. That was the picture Aunt Sylvia had seen.

The fiftieth floor was the very top button. “Don’t they usually put the best rooms on the top floor?” Not that I had any experience with staying in the best rooms. It was just what I had seen on TV.

“Let’s find out.” The doors closed again, and the elevator lifted up.

We stood together, hand in hand, watching as each floor lit up.

“There’s something I wanted to say to you,” Rafe said. I glanced up at him, worried. That sounded ominous.

“What?”

Then he pressed me against the elevator wall with his body, and I sighed as he captured my lips in a searing, knee-buckling kiss. He pulled back to give me a little smile, clearly pleased with himself for catching me off guard. I pressed my lips to his neck, loving the rapid pulse that beat there. “You have such a way with words,” I murmured against his warm skin.

“Oh?” he said in a low timbre that made my quiver. “Well, listen to this.”

Then he kissed me again, causing a perfect storm of fireworks and lightning and nuclear explosions.

This time when the world stopped, it was because it had actually, literally stopped. I broke off the kiss, pushing slightly against his chest when I realized that the elevator wasn’t moving. “We’re not moving.”

For a second, I thought he might have pushed the emergency stop button, but he looked as bewildered as I felt. I pushed the button for our floor a few times, as if that could fix it.

Definitely stuck. He opened the phone box underneath the keypad. He pulled out the red receiver and began talking in fluent Spanish to whoever was on the other end. I both marveled at the fact that he could speak Spanish and freaked out at the idea of being trapped.

He hung up the phone. “Well?” I asked.

“They’re not sure what caused it, but they’re hopeful that it won’t take long to fix.”

I nodded, gulping. Was it my imagination, or were the walls edging toward us? We were going to get squished. Like we were in a garbage compactor on the Death Star. Well, I supposed that was appropriate for a Comic-Con-related death. My arms started to shake, and my lower back suddenly felt drenched and cold from all the sweating.

As I lurched sideways from dizziness, Rafe managed to catch me. “Are you all right?”

“Did I mention that I suffer from claustrophobia?” I could hear the tremor in my voice. I fanned myself with my hands as my heart tried to pound its way out of my ribcage.

He put me down on the floor, leaning me against the closing-in wall. He grabbed the phone and made another call. This time he sounded angry. My head lolled to one side as I tried to catch my breath.

Slamming the phone down, he came and sat next to me. He pulled me into his lap, murmuring soothing words against my head that actually seemed to help. If I closed my eyes, I could concentrate on the feel of his strong chest and arms and let his delicious scent overwhelm my crazy senses. I almost forgot about how we were going to get smooshed between the walls and then plummet to our death.

“Why are you claustrophobic? I took a psych class at M ... I mean, at college. Isn’t it usually because of some childhood trauma?”

I barked out a harsh laugh, folding my arms as chills racked my torso. “It is most definitely because of some childhood trauma.”

“Do you want to talk about it? Maybe it would help.”

I never talked about it. But there was something about him filling all of my senses that made me put my guard down. I normally didn’t tell people because I didn’t want to be treated differently. I didn’t want them to pity me or think I was weird. But somehow I knew Rafe wouldn’t feel that way.

“I’ve never told anyone else this. I was raised in a cult.” That was the first time I had ever said those words out loud. “My mother was a bit of a wild child. She’d left the farm in Iowa to become an actress in Hollywood. All of that caught up with her and she got pregnant. She got married, but my father walked out before I was born and he disappeared. And she was so devastated by getting knocked up at such a young age that she did a total one-eighty and got super religious.”

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