Page 26 of Heartless Sinner

“All yours,” I said. “The seat, not the bag.”

We hadn’t spoken since the whole janitor’s-closet disaster.

He cracked a smile, called for the flight attendant, and passed her the bag. “Please stow this somewhere safe for the princess.”

Salana glanced at me for permission, and I nodded.

She left with the bag, and Cory didn’t even try to hide that he was checking out her ass as she tucked it away in a cabinet.

Salana was a former Miss Calira and gorgeous enough to be modeling in Milan instead of serving drinks to my family. But the women in her family had worked for mine for generations.

According to castle rumors, they’d also served the kings in other ways. Her mother was my grandfather’s mistress.

Salana disappeared from our view when she entered the cockpit.

Cory stretched out his legs. His pants lifted at the ankles, showing off black loafers embroidered with the Caliran flag—a single rose above ocean waves.

He looked unmistakably Caliran with olive skin, wavy black hair, and the distinctive nose nearly everyone back home shared. He was hot. But him leaving me alone with Brooks in the closet had knocked several points off his attractiveness score.

“My father said we might as well share a flight,” he said. “You know, since we’re considered the most eco-friendly country in the world.”

I side-eyed him. “Mother Nature appreciates your sacrifice.”

I was pissed at him, but kicking the prime minister’s son off a government plane in front of Salana probably wasn’t princess-like. It’d also piss off the king.

The pilot announced we were ready for takeoff. I stared out the window as we raced down the runway and climbed into the sky.

“Would you like something to drink, Princess?” Salana asked when she returned.

The way Cory irritably shifted in his seat made it obvious he wasn’t thrilled she’d addressed me before him.

Before Brooks bulldozed his way into the Fawn situation, I’d honestly thought Cory would make the better Son for me. We’d grown up together. During recess one day, a boy had nailed me in the face with a dodgeball so hard my nose bled. Cory had broken the boy’s in return.

“Just a water, please,” I started before changing my mind. “Actually … a vodka soda.”

No way in hell was I surviving this flight sober.

Being twenty, I wasn’t legally allowed to drink in the States.

Not that it ever stopped me.

But in Calira, the drinking age was eighteen.

We were flying there, so that was close enough.

Salana dipped her head. “Yes, Princess.”

“Bourbon on the rocks,” Cory told her.

He kept staring at Salana’s ass on her walk to the bar, so I elbowed him in the side.

“Shit,” he grumbled, rubbing at the spot.

“Did you really want me as your Fawn?” I asked him.

“Hell yeah. I didn’t stand much of a chance once Brooks got involved, though.”

Sons weren’t supposed to discuss Fawn selection, but I wasn’t about to rat Cory out. They’d kill him for it.