“You’re not Chloe,” I breathe stupidly, unable to tear my eyes away from him.
“No,” he murmurs in a tight voice. “I’m not.”
I nearly stumble back when I see the dangerous heat burning in his eyes. He drinks me in, inch by inch, his gaze dragging slowly up the length of my body from the black stilettos on my feet to the fitted curves of my dress to the dark brown curls falling around my shoulders in an elegant half-up style.
“You look…” he trails off, jaw clenching tight.
“Different?” I supply. “It’s the hair.”
A muscle jumps in his cheek. “Trust me. It’s not the hair.”
My fingers grip my clutch purse so hard, I worry I’ll snap the clasp as Carter takes a step toward me, closing a sliver of the distance between us. My breath catches, watching his hand lift to gently take one of my curls between his index finger and his thumb — just as he did the first night we met. I stop breathing altogether as his fingers slide down, stretching the lock to its full length.
It’s the most erotic touch of my life, and I can’t even feel it.
“What are you doing?” I ask breathlessly.
His eyes flicker to mine, glittering with tightly-leashed emotions. His mouth opens, he leans in…
“Hey!”
We both flinch back at the sound of Chloe’s voice. My eyes drop to the hallway floor. Carter clears his throat roughly, turning away from me.
“Let’s go, you two!” she calls from the top of the grand staircase, gesturing madly. “The limos are waiting outside. Don’t worry — I already made sure we aren’t riding with Linus and Octavia.”
“Thank god for small miracles,” I murmur, looking anywhere but at Carter.
He doesn’t say a word as the three of us make our way out the front doors and down into the driveway, where Octavia and Linus are waiting by the limos with Simms. At least ten of the King’s Guard are also present, armed to the hilt — literally, they’re all wearing swords — in impressive navy blue military uniforms. Their double-breasted gold buttons gleam brightly in the early morning sunshine. They look more ready to take on an invading army than accompany a grieving family to a funeral.
“Is all this pomp really necessary?” Chloe asks.
“Seeing as someone has recently attacked the crown?Yes,” Octavia snaps at her daughter. “A certain show of force must be made during our first public appearance.”
Linus coughs, a rheumy sound. “Your mother is right.”
I meet his eyes and see an unfamiliar expression on his face as he evaluates me.
Could it be pride?
“Emilia,” he murmurs. “You look absolutely lovely.”
I open my mouth to thank him, but Octavia interrupts shrilly. “Yes, well,lovelyas she may be, she’s delayed us insufferably. We’re running quite behind schedule. Everyone — into the cars this instant. We will see you at the Abbey. You won’t arrive until shortly after us, as you’ll be diverting to Westgate to pick up the Sterling children before the ceremony.”
“Oh,perfect.” Chloe groans dully. I hear Carter sigh from my other side, equally perturbed, and my curiosity magnifies. I’m sure I’ve heard the name Sterling before, but I can’t put my finger on the context.
I shoot Chloe a questioning glance. She mouths the wordsI’ll explain later, eyes rolling back in her head.
Octavia, Linus, and Simms climb into the first limo while I follow Chloe and Carter into the second. We settle onto supple seats and I try not to let my awe leak through as I take it all in. I’ve never ridden in a limousine before, let alone one from the vintage Rolls Royce fleet used by the royal family for all formal events. My eyes scan from the fully stocked bar of glass decanters to the plush carpeted floor to the hand-embroidered royal crest that decorates the privacy partition. Every detail appears custom designed for maximum comfort and style.
We’ve barely pulled out of the driveway when Chloe reaches into the beaded bodice of her frock and retrieves a rolled joint from her bra. She lights up and takes a deep hit before extending it in my direction.
“No thanks.”
“Carter?” she offers, voice scratchy with smoke.
He shakes his head, reaching instead for the decanter of bourbon. Pouring a few fingers into two separate glasses, he takes one for himself and leans forward to hand the other to me.
My fingers close automatically around the smooth crystal. “Oh, I don’t think I need—”