Page 15 of Royal Love
“I’ve noticed you two seem happier.” I smile. “The way he looks at you when he thinks no one’s watching.”
“We’ve been talking about moving in together,” Shannon admits, her voice dropping slightly despite us being alone.
“Shannon!” I grab her hands, delighted. “That’s a big step.”
“It just feels right.” She shrugs, but can’t hide her happiness. “Last night he told me he’s never felt this way about anyone before.”
“About time he admitted it.” I grin. “Remember when you two tried to keep it professional at that state dinner and failed miserably?”
Shannon laughs. “We thought we were being so discreet.”
“Please. Tristan and I knew the moment you walked in.” I squeeze her hands. “I’m so happy for you both.”
“It’s strange,” she says thoughtfully. “When we first started dating, I worried it would complicate work. But it’s made everything better somehow.”
She shakes her head, but she’s still smiling. “It’s been…nice. Different than I expected. He’s not as uptight as he seems at work.”
“I imagine not.” I wiggle my eyebrows suggestively.
“Amelia!” She laughs, snatching a pillow and swatting me with it. “It’s new. We’re taking it slow.”
“Sure you are.” I dodge another pillow swing. “But slow enough that I should book separate rooms for you at the next diplomatic function, or…?”
Her blush deepens. “Maybe not that slow.”
I fall back laughing, wincing as the motion makes my tender breasts ache again. “Ouch. Damn these hormones. Everything hurts, everything makes me cry, and everything about my husband makes me want to tear his clothes off.”
“Poor you,” Shannon says, utterly unsympathetic. “Forced to be attracted to your devastatingly handsome husband.”
“You don’t understand,” I groan, reaching for my swimsuit and stuffing it into a side pocket. “Yesterday I watched him sign documents for thirty minutes and nearly jumped him on the council table. His fingers, Shannon. Just…holding a pen. I almost embarrassed the entire monarchy.”
“Pregnancy hormones are no joke,” she agrees, helping me zip the overflowing suitcase. “Parker mentioned that Tristan had to reschedule a meeting last week because you?—”
“We don’t need to discuss that,” I cut her off quickly, heat flooding my face. “That was a private royal matter.”
“Of course, Your Majesty.” She gives a mock curtsy, smirking.
The bedroom door opens, and Tristan appears, already changed for our drive to the coast. My mouth goes dry at the sight of him in dark jeans and a blue button-down, sleeves rolled to just below his elbows.
“Ready, Lia?” he asks, and then notices my expression. “What?”
“Nothing,” I say too quickly. Shannon snorts beside me.
He glances between us, suspicious. “Am I interrupting something?”
“Just girl talk,” Shannon says, standing and straightening her skirt. “I was just telling Her Majesty that the car is packed and ready. You should reach the beach house before sunset if you leave now.”
“Perfect.” He crosses to the suitcase, lifting it effortlessly. “Feels like you packed for a month, not a weekend.”
“Your child is demanding extra wardrobe options,” I inform him primly, standing and smoothing my dress over my belly.
His eyes soften the way they always do when I mention the baby. “My apologies to both of you then.” He turns to Shannon. “Parker’s finalizing the security detail. You two have everything covered here?”
“Of course.” She nods. “The official statement is that you’re reviewing coastal properties for potential development. No press, no appointments. Your phones will be diverted to us for anything that’s not an actual emergency.”
“You’re the best,” I tell her, pulling her into a quick hug. “And I want details about you and Parker when I get back.”
“Amelia,” she hisses, glancing at Tristan.
