Page 34 of Stick to the Deal
My teeth dig into my lip and I can’t stop the smile at the last line. I shouldn’t like the nickname, a delicate flower in a fluffy gown is the farthest thing from who I am, but there’s just something about it.
“Princess, huh?”
With a half gasp, I whirl, smacking Colin squarely in the jaw.
“Ow!”
“Don’t sneak up on a city girl!”
He rubs his face, but the damn leprechaun grins at me, mischief clear in his green eyes. “That the new husband? If he calls youPrincesswhat do you call him? My Lord?“ His eyes narrow at my silence. “No, that’s too simple. It’s gotta be something more specific. Lord Grumpypants? Discount Darcy? Am I close?”
I glare at him. “I usually call him by his name: Reginald. Occasionally, Ren.”
Colin’s face slackens. “I don’t get it. You have nicknames for everyone. Irish, Soldier Boy, Deputy-Do-Right, Pretty Boy…”
My cheeks heat. He’s not wrong. The truth is, I haven’t been able to think of one—though that Lord Grumpypants isn’t half bad. Flippant nicknames feel wrong with Reginald. “Well, he hates his name, so there’s that.”
His intelligent green eyes study my face, seeing too fucking much, because that cocky grin slowly spreads on his tired face. Damn dimple and all. “Sure. This’ll be grand.” He grabs a stack of plates and leaves.
Fuck.
October
In a twist even I didn’t see coming, our most eligible bachelor and bachelorette are now married… to each other! Completely unfair to the rest of us, but hats off to finding a loophole.
The couple eloped in a picturesque ceremony during a mini-holiday in Sweden some time last month. The event was photographed by the bride herself who posted the selfies this week. Public records show the purchase of a Manhattan townhouse in the couple’s names. Whatever could be the reason for this speedy union? And why the need to move so far away? The new Lady Ravenscourt has multiple properties in America, but surely a peer of the realm needs to stay within his earldom.
The representatives for the Bancroft and Atherton families declined to comment.
Here’s hoping we have ex-pats in New York who can report back! No way this is the end of the story.
TTFN
Wendy
Chapter 19
Unpacking
Iglance up at the white brick exterior of my new townhouse. Adjusting my camera bag higher on my shoulder, and take a last deep breath before stepping up to the front door. A pang echoes through me at the thought of leaving my old apartment behind. It’s been my home-away-from-home for so long. And yeah, the doorman and million dollar view were fantastic. This will be fine. Good, even. The property belonged to my grandmother, I’m married now and need my own place.
If my life has taught me anything, it’s that you have to move forward. The world is going to keep moving around you, if you are ready or not. So hold the fuck on and try to enjoy the ride.
My shiny new key slips into the lock and the door opens silently. “Honey, I’m home,” I call. The strains of classical music float faintly from somewhere above. Exposed brick along the exterior walls gives the space an old-world feel that strangely fits with the gray walls and dark wood floors.
I drop my bag on the gray leather sofa, which dominates the main area. It’s also the only furniture in the room. Floor to ceiling built-in bookcases already filled with books flank the long wall of the room and large windows overlook a rear terrace.
There are no other furnishings on the main floor. Where has Reginald been eating? The kitchen, if you can call a handful of cabinets and miniature appliancesa kitchen, would make Anna cry. Good thing neither Reginald nor I actually cook.
At least I don’t think he does. Probably something I should learn about my new husband.
Where the fuck is my new husband?
I follow the strains of the piano back to the front and climb the staircase. Two rooms open from the landing and the sound gets louder. I approach the larger room, pausing in the doorway. Where the first floor was sparse, this room is fully furnished with a small table, file cabinets, and hanging TV.
Reginald sits scowling at his laptop. He’s dressed formally but has undone the top button of his shirt. His hair is tousled like he’s been pulling on it.
“Knock, knock.”
