Page 63 of Princessa
Chapter 34
“We’re getting married!” Finn and Camille cried out in unison, mouths upturned in giddy smiles as they sat across from me and Grayson.
We were at Le Boudoir, one of RRF’s fancier restaurants.
“Excuse me?” I blinked. “Did you say,married?” My shell-shocked inquiry was a natural reaction to the unexpected proclamation. Granted, they did warn of having some news to share at dinner; still, this came as quite a surprise.
Finn swung his arm around Camille, a flash of pride igniting his eyes. “Yep. In two days.”
Two days? “So soon?” I asked, after knocking back a sip of water.
“Why wait? When you know, you know.”
Grayson, who had been unusually quiet, snorted at Finn’s response. “Then let’s celebrate.”
The four of us enjoyed a fine meal, while the soon-to-be-weds shared details of their planned, surprise nuptials.
“We’re going to Paris—just for a few days,” said Finn. “But, rest assured, Your Highness, Adam will step in for me, during my absence.”
“Who is Adam?” I turned to Grayson for the answer.
“He’s like a younger Finn. Only beefier and much better looking.”
Finn tossed a potato crisp at Grayson. “Because he’s my offspring, you moron.” He laughed, shifting his attention to me. “Adam is my twenty-seven-year-old son, is built like Thor, and works part-time, guarding Prince Grayson in my absence.”
“And, Camille…who’s stepping in for you?” Grayson beat me to the question. But since there was no threat to my safety, I wasn’t too concerned.
“Well,” began Camille, “We—me and Arabella’s parents—figured any one of resort security can be assigned while I’m gone. They’ve all been well-vetted and after interviewing a few, I’ve designated Wendy to step in for me.”
I was fine with Camille’s choice: an ex-body builder, Wendy was as muscular as some guys. However, I wasn’t pleased about the lovebirds’ decision to elope. “I wish we could see you two tie the knot. I mean, you fell in love before our eyes.”
“Oh, have no fear,” Finn replied. “We plan to have a larger ceremony for friends and family in a few months. This elopement is something we’ve both dreamed of. Married in Paris, just the two of us.”
It was romantic.Theywere romantic.
A bottle of champagne was ordered to ceremonialize the occasion and we all drank ourselves tipsy.
Back in Grayson’s suite,I was feeling especially salacious; no doubt the fault of the bubbly. And from what I remember, we’d spent the rest of the night having the best sex ever, since our nights in Andorra.
The next morning, I woke with a splitting headache—my first hangover—and Grayson teasing me.
“You, Arabella Royale, are quite the sexual deviant when tipsy.” He placed an aspirin and a glass of water on the nightstand beside me. “So horny, so explorative, and such a potty mouth.” He climbed back in bed, spooning me from behind.
“What are you talking about? But, please. Explain quietly. My head is pounding.”
He chuckled. “Let’s just say, the positions you wanted to try, coupled with the words that flew out of your mouth, were porno-grade. You didn’t even have a problem sayingcock. Several times.”
I yanked the cover over my head in shame. “Ugh. Remind me never to drink champagne again.”
“Ah, pity.” He slapped my butt. “I quite enjoyed Dirty Arabella.”
Giggling, I turned around to face him. “Was everything okay with you yesterday? You were quiet at the start of dinner.”
Worry plagued his face. “I got an unwelcome visitor yesterday. Someone highly unexpected.”
“Who, babe?” I cupped the left side of his face.
“Lady Iris, although she’s undeserving of the Lady part of her title.”
