Page 32 of King of Lies
“Don’t be cute, Hen,” he warns me.
“I’m not being cute,” I lie.
“Aye. You are,” he says. “And when you’re cute, I want to fuck you and we don’t have time. Besides, you definitely didn’t seem keen on the others hearing you.”
“Umm …” I stammer because while I really like the idea of him wanting to fuck me when he thinks I’m cute, I also don’t want the others, especially Fiona, to hear when he does. “We don’t have time?”
“No,” he says. “We’ll be landing soon, and you have to dress to meet the press.”
“Excuse me?”
“I don’t have time to explain it all,” he says, throwing open a closet full of hanging garment bags and shoe boxes. “Just choose anything but the black suit.”
“Black suit?” I ask, stunned. “What’s all this?”
“Our aides pack for any eventuality,” he explains. “If we get word that the King has died, then we canno’ be seen outside of mourning dress. Hence, the black suit.”
I move to the closet and look through it all, feeling overwhelmed. I look to Rhys and say, “I don’t know what to pick.”
“You look like a lamb headed to slaughter,” he says.
“That’s apropos,” I mutter, and he laughs.
“Don’t look so glum. Choose the blue. I’m wearing a navy suit with a blue shirt and tie.”
“Hair?” I ask because if he wants to be my royal Henry Higgins, then I’m going to let him.
“Down and soft around your face,” he answers.
“Makeup?”
“More than you usually wear but not by a lot,” he says. “Brown shadows, soft pink lips.”
“Why do you know so much about this?” I ask.
“I was raised for this role,” he says sadly, reminding me that we’re at this precipice because his dad is dying.
“I’m sorry, honey.”
“I know,” he says before pressing his mouth to mine. “I am too.”
“I better get started,” I tell him and move to the vanity table with the train case on it as he pulls the navy-blue dress and coordinating dress coat from the closet and lays them on the bed.
I plug in rollers to heat and brush my hair, twisting it up to take a quick shower. It’s a little weird that a total stranger knows all of my preferences and favorite products. I barely packed anything from home. I make my way into the bathroom and quickly wash up and brush my teeth. I’ve never been on an airplane with a full bathroom before.
I dry off and pull on a clean bra and panties. I sit back down at the vanity and roll up my hair to set while I do my makeup, carefully following Rhys’s instructions on how to make up my face.
“I do like the look of you like this,” he growls from behind me on the bed, already dressed in his impeccable suit.
“Thank you, I think.”
“I think you’re determined to see if you can kill me,” he says. “Or make my bollocks fall off.”
I look at him through the mirror as I dust blush on my cheeks. “That is yet to be determined.” And then I set the makeup aside and start unrolling my hair. I brush it so it falls in full, loose waves and give it a little spray so it’ll hold, before standing from the vanity and moving to the dress.
Rhys pops up off the bed before I can grab the dress and kneels before me. “There are a few rules I know you won’t be used to.”
“A few?”
