Page 103 of The Unlikely Heir
“The staff here unpack your luggage, as I learned to my excruciating embarrassment the first time I came here.”
“What did you have in your luggage?” I ask curiously.
A faint blush touches his cheeks. “Let’s just say there were some items that made it hard for either Garett or I to look the servants in the face for the rest of the visit.”
That’s right. The first time he came to Balmoral, he would have been with his husband.
Cold settles in my stomach, and I draw the sheet around me. Oliver’s been out since he was a teenager. He’s been in multiple relationships with men who know what they’re doing, unlike my awkward fumbling last night.
Oliver studies my face, his expression serious.
“You know what you said to me the other night?” he asks quietly.
“What in particular? I do say a lot of things, too many things, to be honest. I’m probably going to use up my lifetime word quota by the time I’m thirty and will be mute.”
Oliver wisely ignores my rambling and keeps his gaze steady on me.
“I’m talking about the bit when you said you’ve never felt anything like this before.”
I nod. “I definitely said that because it’s true.”
Oliver reaches over, his thumb running over my knuckles before he links his fingers through mine.
“I feel exactly the same way. I’ve never felt like this about anyone. Ever.”
Happiness swells inside me at his words. I can’t help leaning forward to kiss him. It’s a soft kiss, gentle.
But it soon ramps up, and Oliver and I are lost in each other once again. Somehow, our bodies fit together like puzzle pieces, and every kiss and touch reinforces the feelings shimmering between us.
Afterward, he tucks me into the warmth of his body, and I listen to his heartbeat slow.
“I was so determined to resist you,” he murmurs into my hair.
I turn slightly, craning my neck so I can see him. “I’m incredibly glad you failed in that mission.”
Oliver’s dark eyes are steady on mine. “I’m glad too.”
ChapterTwenty-Six
Oliver
I drop my pen, leaning back in my chair and glancing at the clock on my desk. Normally, I’m willing time to slow down so I can squeeze more into my work day, but today, I’m impatient to go up to my flat and call Callum.
“There’s even more protesters outside the palace today,” Toby says as he enters the room.
“It was always going to happen,” I reply.
The crowd of protesters outside Buckingham Palace has been swelling daily, leading up to the trial.
Ten members of the royal family standing in the dock pleading guilty to bribery and corruption was never going to be good optics for the monarchy. But even I’m surprised by the brutality of the backlash.
“What’s the current polling showing?” I ask briskly.
“It’s definitely not doing good things. Sixty percent of the population disapprove of the conduct of the royal family. And the petition calling for a referendum on the royal family has over fifty thousand signatures so far.”
I groan, rubbing my forehead. “That’s becoming a sizable number.”
British law means that once a petition reaches one hundred thousand signatures, it has to be considered for debate in Parliament.
