Page 70 of Tall, Royal Hater
“Oh my—” I threw my hands up and swung around, heading back to the changing room as Esmeralda doubled over in laughter. “I’m gonna change.”
As soon as I closed the curtain behind me, I pressed my hot forehead to the cold mirror and glared down at my socked feet.
The thing was, with the way the tension was escalating between Shehryar and me, I had this unnerving feeling that it was going to lead to a bed by the end of the holiday.
The other problem was…I wasn’t sure I hated the idea of being under him as much as I wanted to.
And that was probably what made me want to rage more than anything else.
Shehryar
I hissed as the sharp tip of the needle pricked the inner side of my left arm and clenched my teeth.
Candy lifted his sapphire blue eyes up to meet mine. “Apologies,” he said. Not that the angle of his smirk looked remotely apologetic.
He looked like a smug fucking bastard, “accidentally”pricking me with the needles that he pinned my suit with far more often than he’d pricked anyone else. In fact, hehadn’tpricked anyone else. Which meant he was doing it on purpose to me. The fact he was sticking pins into the sleeves, which were the only parts of the tailored blazer that didn’t need adjusting, was only more proof.
Everyone else’s suits had fitted them perfectly, all five of the same blue for the groomsmen. Prince Arsh’s suit had literally been a table of cut out pieces of fabric before another one of Candy’s assistants, Fitz, came in, and they pieced it around the older prince’s build, sewing some parts with the machine in the corner. I was confident Candy had only picked an ill-fitted suit to prod at me.
I rolled my hands into tight fists as I stared him down. “Do that one more time. I dare you,” I growled low enough to be for his ears only.
His smirk tilted higher, and fucking Neves, I wanted to hit him so hard. It wouldn’t have taken much to knock him to his arrogant arse. And if his poking wasn’t deemed enough of a reason to let my anger get the better of me, then the repetitive reminder of the way he’d put his hand on Mariyah’s back and purred about dressing her up while following the women into their room was.
My only two reasons for not doing so were that he was helping with my mother’s wedding and that my frustration much preferred the idea of unleashing itself on Mariyah. To drag her to a dark corner to punish her. And fuck, because the coiling, demanding, aching sensation she ignited in me was getting out of control, and I didn’t like feeling so. I wanted that control back in my hands.
“How do you think the women’s fitting is going?” Prince Arsh asked, standing near the two changing cubicles, while the rest of the men were sitting on the three black sofas.
“Well, considering Kyle hasn’t run in here with tears in his eyes, I would assume well,” Candy replied.
“Tell us what our women are wearing,” King Rami said, resting both hands on the gentleman’s cane he used to support an old injury to his leg.
Candy chuckled and turned away, leaving me with my arm hanging in the air. “They’re wearing dresses that will bring you to your knees. That’s all I’m going to say.”
Pierre scoffed, his arms lazily slung over the back of the sofa he shared with Prince Kai. “Since when have you been so cryptic?”
Candy arched a careless brow. “Remind me why you’re here and not working again.”
Pierre narrowed his eyes as Prince Fay, the king, and Prince Arsh chuckled. “There’s this thing that normal people have called ‘annual leave.’ Do you comprehend or do I need to find ‘AnIdiot’sGuide to Real Life’for you?”
Growing restless and tired, I lowered my arm. But as if he sensed it, Candy rotated, grabbed my wrist, and dragged it back up straight.
“You must provide at least one detail of their dresses, Candy,” King Rami said, directing the conversation back to the original topic, while Fitz, the assistant, helped Prince Arsh out of the suit jacket and walked off with it towards the table next to the sewing machine.
Candy sighed overdramatically and left my arm hanging in the air again. Irritated, I lowered it immediately. “As you wish, Your Majesty,” he said, flicking me a quick glare before smiling at the king. “The queen’s dress will remind you of your first public appearance together after your wedding. And Gigi loves the glitz and glam, so that is what I gave her. As for the bride, that shall still remain a secret, but I will tell you that this is only a glimpse of what I have planned for your public wedding.”
He set his attention on Prince Kai. “Our Princess Esmeralda’s dress is one of many that I have designed solely for her. And dear prince—you will fall in love with her all over again.”
Then Candy turned around and pinned me with a smirk as he yanked my arm up again. I gritted my teeth.One flick. One fucking flick of my wrist was all it would take to clip him in the—
“As for Mariyah’s dress,” he said slowly, and I stilled. “It’s a personal favourite of mine.”
It didn’t take a genius to figure out that his statement was intended to push my buttons as if he thought I’d care if and how he dressed the menace up.
His assumption, though, wasn’t misplaced because I did care for whatever fucking reason. Oh, I cared a lot. Like green acidmixing in my blood and burning through my veins and arteries kind of cared.
Maybe it was because Candy and Mariyah were so similar in character, and it was driving me beyond mad. Or maybe because the little nagging feeling somewhere at the back of my rib cage was onto something every time it grew vicious upon seeing Mariyah get along with another man.
It wanted to lash out at King Kareem and Pierre. And now Candy was really fucking pissing it off.
