The Anti-Cinderella Takes London

by Tawdra Kandle

  And then an idea began to take root in my brain. I smirked at my own pun. The Palace press office would never approve the interview, but what if it wasn’t done through the Palace? Right now, at this moment, I was still Kyra Duncan, a sourcing executive for Honey Bee Juices. If I gave Garrett the interview he wanted in that capacity, the Palace wouldn’t be able to stop me. Particularly if they didn’t know about it until after the fact.

  A small twinge of unease floated through me, but I ignored it. Hadn’t Nicky told me that he didn’t want me to change who I was, simply because I was marrying him? Hadn’t he promised that I could keep my job at Honey Bee? And didn’t he say that I should make my new role my own, find my own unique niche?

  Maybe this was it. Maybe I’d found my way of doing things.

  And just maybe it was time to try out my wings.

  The meeting I’d hurried back for had lasted nearly all afternoon, and by the time it was over, I was tired and more than a little cranky. It hadn’t been easy to focus on the topic at hand, either, given that I was preoccupied with both the stupid pregnancy story and the possibility of an interview with Garrett.

  I was also brooding about the hypothetical leak. When the Palace office had insinuated that it might be someone from Honey Bee, I’d been furious and outraged, but I’d also done a little quiet investigating—and I’d turned up nothing.

  While Aline, Sir Todd and Lady Marjorie might have pictured me chatting up the other Honey Bee employees around the proverbial water cooler, I actually never gossiped or even had personal conversations with my co-workers. I certainly wasn’t confiding my deepest, darkest secrets in anyone here.

  “I think that went well today, didn’t you?” Serena Kessel rounded the end of the conference table, smiling at me. “Seems as though we’re on the right path with this new berry supplier.”

  “Oh, yeah—I think we are.” I hesitated. “Serena, could I have a quick word with you before we go?”

  She frowned slightly. “Of course. Is everything all right.”

  I shut the door and leaned against it. “I hope so. I’m not quite sure how to ask this, but Serena—you’ve been with this office since my grandparents opened it. You know everyone pretty well, don’t you?”

  “I’d like to think so.” Serena nodded. “This has always been a wonderful group of people. Low drama. Hard workers. Everyone’s committed to the cause that your family has championed.” Her brow furrowed. “Why do you ask? Are you having trouble with someone?”

  “I don’t think so.” I leaned against the back of one of the tall chairs. “I hope I don’t need to say that I’d prefer that nothing we discuss would go beyond this room.”

  “You don’t.” Her voice was even and her face serious.

  “Good.” I kept my own tone level. “Unfortunately, right now my personal life is bleeding over into my professional. There have been some stories in the press that the Palace feels are the result of a leak to the media, and some there suspect the leaker might be at Honey Bee.”

  When Serena’s eyes flashed with surprised, I hastened to add, “I don’t think that’s the case. I don’t share things here, and I trust everyone, but I need to be very sure when I go back to the Palace and tell them absolutely that the information isn’t coming from my office.”

  “I can assure you that no one here is sharing with the press, Kyra.” Now, she was all steel. “Before you started your job, we had conversations with each and every department, impressing on all of the employees the fact that you must feel completely safe in this environment. We also ran extensive background checks. I promise, any leak is not coming from Honey Bee.”

  I sagged a little with relief. “Thank you, Serena. That was all I needed to know. And I apologize if it sounded like I was doubting you or anyone here.”

  Serena was quiet for a moment. “I can’t imagine how difficult all of this has got to be for you. Not knowing whom you can trust, always second-guessing yourself . . . well. Anyway, I hope you can find the problem.”

  “So do I,” I said with feeling. My cell phone buzzed, and when I checked the screen, I saw that Sophie was calling. “Oh, I’m sorry, Serena, but I do need to take this.”

  “Of course.” She smiled. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can do.” She slipped out, closing the door behind her as I hit the button to accept the call.

  “Talk to me, Sophie.”

  “All right.” Sophie was speaking low. “I spoke to Garrett, and he reached out to the reporter on the, uh, the pregnancy story.”

  I grimaced. “And?”

  “And she said that information is most definitely flowing out of the Palace.” Sophie sounded grim and deflated. “She didn’t know who it was precisely, but she gave him enough tidbits that I think, perhaps, I might be able to do some digging and figure out the culprit.”

  “Be careful, Sophie.” I nibbled the corner of my lip. “The last thing I need is you getting into trouble.”

  “I’m nothing if not discreet,” she assured me. “I thought that you’d want to know about this, but please try not to worry. Oh, and you might like to know that Princess Daisy was asked about your so-called blessed event on her way into the gym today, and apparently, she blasted the reporter. Told them that it was ridiculous and all a fabrication, and that you were no more pregnant than the Queen is.”

  “Oh, my God, she didn’t.” I wasn’t sure if I should laugh or cry. “Well, thank you, Daisy.”

  “And other papers are saying that it’s a fake story, too, so that one should die down pretty quickly.”

  “Let’s hope so.” I paused for a beat. “Listen, Sophie, I have to run now, but would you do me a favor and pass on a suggestion to Garrett Smith?”

  “Ah . . . sure.” She sounded cautious but curious.

  “Tell him that he should submit his interview request to Honey Bee Juices. Tell him that he should specifically state that the story will involve food sourcing.” I took a deep breath. “I think he’ll find the way is smoother than it has been at the Palace.”

  “Oh, Kyra.” Sophie’s voice was awe-filled. “I’m not sure whether this move of yours is gutsy or insane, but . . . I’ll pass it along.”

  “Thanks. See you tomorrow.” I hung up and then dropped into a nearby chair.

  Gutsy or insane, huh? Well, I guessed we were about to find out.

  11

  “Do that again.”

  Smiling, I rolled over to face Nicky. He lay on his side, his head resting against his hand as he gazed down at me.

  “Do what again?”

  “That little . . . moan. The sound you made just now.”

  “Mmmm.” I nuzzled the crook of his neck, and he shivered. “If you do to me what you were doing just now, I bet I’ll make that same sound.”

  “Ah.” Nicky nudged me onto my back and tugged down the covers. “You mean like this?” He lowered his head down to capture one of my rosy nipples between his lips, sucking softly and sending a thrill of need through me.

  “That’s nearly it, I think.” I sounded as breathless as I felt. “But maybe not quite. Maybe it was more of a . . . pinch.”

  “That doesn’t sound very pleasant,” Nicky observed. “But I’ll give it a go.” He brushed one hand down from my neck to close around my breast, teasing the peak with his thumb before he tweaked it, hard. Before I could quite recover, he sucked the same throbbing tip into his mouth and pressed it with his tongue.

  “Ohhhhhhh.” I arched my back and threaded my fingers into his hair. “Yes. Just like that.”

  Nicky laughed softly. “That’s the sound I was looking for. Do you know what it does to me when you do that?”

  “No,” I murmured, opening my eyes just enough to see his face. “Tell me.”

  “I’d rather show you.” He caught my hand and drew it down under the covers, between his legs, where he was sporting a very promising erection. I closed my fingers around the stiff member and stroked him.

  “All this from one little moa
n?” I marveled, teasing. “Hmmm. It makes me wonder what would happen if I said something like . . .” I shoved him over until I straddled his hips, grinning down into his surprised face. “Nicky, you set me on fire when you touch me. Your mouth on my body drives me absolutely insane with wanting you. I’m going to ride you now until you can’t remember who you are or where you are, until all you know is the feel of being buried deep inside me.”

  His eyes went dark, and his throat worked as he swallowed. “Do it,” he rasped. “Let me see you come apart around me. I want to feel you surround me.”

  My heart began to thud a little faster as I raised myself up and lowered my body slowly onto his, until I was filled with him. For a moment, we were both still, savoring the sense of completion and wholeness. When I began to move at last, it was at a languid, undulous pace, letting my pleasure dictate every motion.

  Nicky reached up to cup my breasts, circling my nipples with his fingers, making me cry out and writhe. I found the rhythm and the movement that brought me closer and closer to the edge that I wanted to find.

  “Not yet.” Before I could grind myself to ecstasy against him, Nicky sat up, changing the way we fit together as he wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight. “I want to hold you. I want to kiss you—” He matched his actions to his words, pressing his open mouth to mine, his tongue exploring me, branding me as his. “I want to be as close to you as I possibly can.”

  I curved my legs around his hips and slid my arms around his neck, clinging to him as we both sought the same sweet ending.

  “I love you, Nicky.” I gasped the words, my face hidden in his neck. “Love you so much.”

  “My Ky.” His voice was hoarse. “God, how I love you. Let me feel you lose yourself around me. I want to take you to the brink and fall into the abyss with you. Come for me, darling.”

  It was as though I’d been waiting for his invitation. With a loud cry, my back bowed and everything within me shattered into tiny pieces of joy.

  Nicky held onto me, his own groan muffled against my hair as he stiffened, pulsing deep inside my body.

  I didn’t want to let him go, not even when my heartbeat had slowed to its regular rhythm. A lump rose in my throat, and that vague sense of anxiety that had been dogging me all week washed over me anew.

  “Are you all right?” Nicky brushed my hair away from my face, laying his hand alongside my cheek. “Am I hurting your hips?”

  “No.” I shook my head, slowly and reluctantly untangling our limbs. “I’m just . . . Nicky. I want to talk to you about something, but I’m scared.”

  His brows drew together. “Why on earth would you be scared? I promise you, love, nothing you could say or do could every change—this. Us. How I feel about you. That’s a forever deal, darling. I wouldn’t have given you this if it wasn’t.” He lifted my left hand and pressed a gentle kiss to the ring on my third finger.

  “I know. At least, I know it here.” I touched my head. “But my heart still worries that I might do something wrong, and then you’ll be so angry, so disappointed, that you’ll walk away. And I’m not sure I could survive that, Nicky. I’m my own person. I know I’m enough, in and of myself. I don’t need anyone else to make me who I am. But I want you, and that want means that losing you would take away the heart of me. When I think of it, I can’t breathe.”

  “Then don’t think about it, because it’s not going to happen.” He propped our pillows against the headboard and then patted the space next to him. “Come here and tell me whatever it is that’s upsetting you.”

  I snuggled next to Nicky, loving the way his arm curled around me and drew me into him. This was where I belonged, now and forever.

  But truth was essential, and I had to tell him this now.

  “I gave an interview to Garrett Smith today.” The words tumbled out over each other, and I sensed it took Nicky a moment to understand what I’d said.

  “You—what? An interview? And who is Garrett Smith?” His voice stayed calm, but I felt tension in his body.

  “Garrett Smith is that reporter who follows me and shouts out inappropriate questions.” I paused. “Well, he used to. But it turns out he really was only hoping to get my attention, because even though he’s on the royal circuit now, he used to cover food sourcing issues for a big environmental publication. He worked for the Green Waves Report.”

  Nicky nodded slowly. “I’ve heard of that. So Smith worked for them, but now he covers you, and you decided to talk with him? I’m assuming you didn’t go through the press office.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “He sent his request through Honey Bee, and so that’s how I did the interview—as the sourcing officer for the company. Not as Kyra, fiancée to Prince Nicholas.” Even as I said the words, they sounded ridiculous to my own ears.

  “Because you’re two separate people? C’mon, Ky.” Nicky didn’t sound angry, exactly; perhaps just a bit weary. “You know better than that. Does anyone at the Palace Press Office know about this?”

  “Ummmm . . .” I swallowed and shifted a bit. “Well, not anyone who would object to it. And technically, the answer to the question of whether anyone from the press office knew that I was interviewed by Garrett today is no. If we’re going to be very specific about the details.”

  “But someone does know that you were approached about an interview.” It was a statement, not a question, so I didn’t feel I needed to answer it one way or the other. “And I’m going to go out on a limb and assume that person is Sophie.”

  I wasn’t going to lie to Nicky. “Yes. Sophie spoke to Garrett outside her role as press liaison and learned about his past association with GWR. She passed the information onto me.” I was quibbling, and I knew it. “Full disclosure—Garrett and Sophie just began seeing each other romantically. But she found out about why he wanted to interview me before they became involved.” I had a hunch that it hadn’t been long before, but that part wasn’t any of my business, was it? “I told her to have him send the request through Honey Bee, because I knew the Palace Press Office would automatically turn him down.”

  “Because there’s a policy about interviews with members of the Royal Family,” Nicky pointed out. “And there’s protocol. I imagine you’ve already gone over all of that with Lady Marjorie.”

  “Well . . . not in so many words,” I hedged. “She hasn’t specifically said anything about that.” I nibbled on the edge of my lip. “But that’s probably because it’s common sense. I knew that already. I just . . . I wanted to do the interview, Nicky. You know how important my work—our work—is to me. Why shouldn’t I be allowed to talk about it? I didn’t say anything about the Royal Family, per se. I did mention you, but only about your role as patron of Want Not.”

  Nicky was silent for a long time—so long in fact that I finally screwed up my courage to twist around and look at him. “Are you mad at me?”

  “Kyra.” He sighed, and my whole body clenched. And then he tilted my chin up and kissed me softly. “No. I’m not angry. I’m slightly concerned about the fall out we’re going to see from this, once it goes public . . . and I think we should probably talk to the press office, just so that they’re not blindsided by it.”

  My stomach flip-flopped. “Do I really have to? Couldn’t we just hope that they don’t see it or hear about it?”

  He laughed. “I admire your optimism, but I think I have to be the realist here. They’ll hear about it before it goes live, because that’s just how things work. There are networks, and they pass on information faster than light speed. As a matter of fact, it’s possible that they already know, and we’ll hear about it in the morning.” He grimaced. “I wonder if I should say something to the Queen. Just to head off any problems.”

  Now my stomach truly clenched. “Really? Do we have to tell the Queen? Do you think she’ll be furious?”

  “It’s hard to tell, but despite some indications to the contrary, my grandmother tends to want her family to have a measure of freedom to be who we
are. That would definitely include you. But it all depends on how it’s presented to her. If someone from the press office gets her ear first and spins the story that you were flouting their direct orders, she might be unhappy. But if I can speak with her and explain how it all went down, I think she’d be sympathetic. She prefers all of us to stay out of the papers, unless it’s for something positive and happy.”

  “I really didn’t say anything about us,” I assured Nicky. “I didn’t even mention the wedding or call you my fiancé. I referred to you as Prince Nicholas and said that you were a tremendous support to the work I do and that I admire what you’ve done with Waste Not, in raising awareness of how much perfectly good food is thrown away every day.”

  “You admire me, do you?” His eyes glittered dangerously, and I shivered in anticipation. “Tell me more about this. What exactly do you admire?”

  I pressed my lips together primly as I turned around to face him, my knees folded under me. “Your work ethic and commitment to leaving a better world behind for the next generation, of course.”

  “My work ethic?” One side of his mouth ticked upward. “Is that all?”

  “Well . . .” I drawled, letting my gaze rake shamelessly down his still-nude body. “There might be one or two other things, but I promise, I didn’t bring those up in the interview.”

  Nicky laughed, but at the same time, he dove for me, knocking me flat on my back and covering my body with his. “I would hope not. Explaining that to Granny would be a real challenge. However, I’m more than happy to listen while you elaborate at length to me now.”

  “At length?” I rolled my eyes. “Someone’s slightly cocky.”

  “More than slightly when it comes to you.” He dragged his lips down my neck. “And I have a feeling that I’m about to get significantly cockier. Right now.”

  And so he did.

  “This is unprecedented.” Aline, the usually unflappable woman who ran the Kensington Palace Press Office, glared at me across her desk. “Members of the Royal Family—and that includes those who are engaged to be married to members of the Royal Family—” She paused long enough so that I couldn’t misunderstand her meaning. “—do not grant interviews except under the most prescribed circumstances.”