Page 88 of American Royals II: Majesty
When she dared a glance up, she saw that Marshall had gone utterly still.
“Samantha,” he said at last. Normally Sam hated her full name, but she loved it on his lips, loved the note of thrilling, territorial possessiveness underneath. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that it killed me, seeing you with Kelsey last weekend. I don’t want touseyou to get someone else. You’re the one I want.” Her words tumbled hastily over one another. “I can’t keep acting like this means nothing to me, not whenI—”
Marshall stood up in the moving carriage, bracing his hands on the wall behind Sam, and closed his mouth over hers.
Sam arched her back and leaned up into him, looping her hands around his neck as she pulled him down toward her. An eager hunger flared in her core. Marshall’s hands slid lower, to cradle her spine—
“Ouch!”
The carriage had hit a bump, slamming his head into the ceiling.
“Are you okay?” Sam cried out.
He slid back onto the opposite bench, rubbing at his skull. “Guess I should’ve been warned by the hat cord,” he said, grimacing.
Sam’s heartbeat was still uneven, the echo of an adrenaline rush pounding through her veins. She tucked her mussed hair behind her ears. “You know, I always figured my ancestors got up to some scandalous behavior in this carriage, but now I’m not so sure.”
Marshall made a sound that was somewhere between a snort and a wince. “It’s too cramped for scandal. Your ancestors all sat here, staring longingly and broodingly at each other.” His expression softened, grew more serious. “Which, apparently, I’m about to do.”
She bit her lip, suddenly hesitant. “Marshall, are we…”
Afternoon light slanted in through the window, dappling half his face in shadow. “Sam, I’ve liked you for ages now. Probably since the day we met,” he told her.
“Then why did you keep telling me that Kelsey was texting you?”
“I was following your lead!” he exclaimed, exasperated. “After we kissed, youlaughedand said that we put on a good show.”
“I only acted like that becauseyouwere looking at the crowd!” she protested. “I assumed you’d seen everyone watching, and that the reason you kissed me was because you wanted it to get back to Kelsey!”
Marshall leaned forward, taking her hand in his. Sam wondered if he could feel the leap of her pulse through her skin. “Trust me,” he told her. “I have only ever kissed you because I wanted to.”
“But last weekend in Orange—”
“I tried to avoid Kelsey. When she cornered me, though, I knew I had to dance with her for a song or two. Otherwise she would have made a scene,” he added, sounding darkly amused.
Sam was deaf to the slow rattle of the carriage wheels, the hum of voices outside; all she could hear was the ringing echo of Marshall’s words.
“So—you and I—we’re doing this for real?”
He grinned. “Sorry, did I skip ahead again? I have a tendency to do that. Hi, I’m Marshall Davis; would you like to go out with me? I’d give you my grizzly-bear pin to mark the occasion, but it’s at home.”
Sam laughed from sheer delight. “Yes,” she declared. “I will go out with you.”
And just like generations of her ancestors had probably done, she spent the rest of the drive stealing glances at her boyfriend, wishing this stupid carriage were a little morespacious.
Daphne’s bedroom looked out over the driveway, so she was always the first to know when they had visitors. Each time she heard a car pull up, she would dart a glance outside, hoping it was a paparazzo staking out their house—or, better yet, Jefferson. But when she lifted her curtain and saw the blue sports car, Daphne blinked.
Himari had come to see her.
Ever since the palace had announced the Marikos’ new position, Daphne had been half-hopeful, half-afraid that Himari would reach out. The royal wedding was next week, and everyone knew that Daphne was going as Jefferson’s date—Daphne had leaked it to Natasha herself, as a thank-you for her earlier help.
If Himari wanted to hurt Daphne, she would do it now, while Daphne was on top of the world.
She hurtled down the stairs. Whatever threat Himari had come to deliver, whatever fight she wanted to pick, Daphne couldn’t let her parents find out.
She made it to the front door just as her friend was about to ring the bell.
