Page 55 of Tall, Royal Hater
“Where’s TRG?” I asked, screwing the tube shut.
“Mariyah,” Esmeralda whispered, mirth lacing her words. “You’re not supposed to call him that.”
“Who’s TRG?” Pierre shot back.
“I’m here,” Kai called.
“Why’d she call you TRG?” Pierre asked, the quiet question obviously directed to Kai.
I stepped back from Esmeralda, giving her space to stand up, as they came into the bedroom.
My timing was perfect, because as I turned to face the incoming men, I caught the exact moment Kai saw Esmeralda and came to an abrupt stop.
His ink-black eyes stilled. His chest lifted on an inhale but didn’t contract again. And his lips parted.
The man was in awe, completely gobsmacked, and it was brilliant. Hilarious. Like something out of a cheesy rom-com. He was a goner, and it couldn’t have been more obvious.
Rightfully so, though, because Esmeralda looked stunning.
She was wearing a floor-length velvet dress of a dark midnight-blue that almost looked black with a subtle semi-sweetheart neckline that showed off the curvature of her figure, chest, hips, and thighs, before it flowed to the floor. With the short fluttering sleeves, she wore black net gloves tied with bows at the top. They were so sensual and gorgeous like something out of a romantic period drama.
Plus, her makeup was perfect—subtle except for the dark red lipstick to match her red-bottom, black heels. Her blowout curls framed her pretty face, and she was wearing the gold necklace and earring set Kai had bought for her a few months back.
Pierre grinned from ear to ear as he settled a hand on the prince’s shoulder. “You good, pretty prince? Or you need a moment?” Kai frowned and pushed his hand off, but Pierre edged forward and gestured down with his gaze. “I mean…you’ve got a situation—up front.” Pierre winced.
Eyes going wide, Kai’s head flew down, but upon seeing that Pierre had lied, the prince’s face contorted into a viciously embarrassed scowl. “Pierre,” he growled, tugging at his left ear.
Pierre flinched away, cackling. “What? I didn’t actually think you’d look down.”
Esmeralda and I both hooted up at the ceiling before she finally took pity on her fiancé and swayed over to him. “Stop it, Pierre,” she said, pushing lightly at the man’s arm.
He lifted his hands in surrender, but his smile was completely unapologetic as he leaned into Esmeralda. “You do look gorgeous though, Princess. His reaction was completely valid.”
“Thank you.” She gleamed, easing into Kai’s arms with her hands against his chest as he wrapped them loosely around her.He was glaring over her head at Pierre. “You both look very handsome yourselves.” Esmeralda tipped her chin to grin up at Kai. “Especially you.”
To be fair, both men looked great in their three-piece suits.
Kai was in black with a silver tie and pale blue pocket cloth, the fabric of his suit doing wonders for his buff shoulders and biceps. While Pierre was in dark brown down to his shoes and tie with a white shirt that brought out the depth of his ruby-red eyes.
Kai blushed, a sheepish smile making his dimple twitch and deepen in his cheek. “Thank you,” he muttered quietly. “You look…” His eyes roamed down and up her top half. “…stunning.”
Pierre took that as his cue to give them some space and walked backwards towards me, but I unashamedly grinned at my best friend and her fiancé like a giddy fool.
“Hi,” Pierre whispered.
“Hi,” I whispered back.
He nodded to his left. “Should we give them some privacy?”
I grabbed my phone and clutch off the bed and followed Pierre out into the main room. Esmeralda and Kai seemed completely oblivious to our exit as they murmured happily to each other.
In the middle of the room, Pierre swung around and grinned at me. “We’re matching.”
Matching in colour, yes. Matching in style, no.
I was wearing a dark brown silk slip dress, simple in its style, but sexy nonetheless, with a subtle shimmer like it had been sprayed with a body mist. Where the fabric of the skirt met the fabric of the upper torso, there were two slim pleats down the front from my belly. It sucked the silk in to softly shape my waist before hugging my hips and arse and cascading down. And the slit on the left was my favourite part; reaching just above mid-thigh, it showed off my leg and matching brown court heels.
“Matching?” I crossed my arms, cocked my hip, and arched a brow. “No, you copied me.”
