“Oh, shit,” I say, my face turning red. What is this woman doing here? Is there something I’m forgetting? Finally, I recover. “Yes, that’s me.”
“Wonderful!” she says, stepping neatly past me into the room. “My name is Claire, and Prince Alexander has sent me to be your personal companion for the duration of your stay. If there’s anything you need, anything at all, you only need to let me know.” Her accent has the same crisp British-tinged inflection as Alec’s. She reaches out and pumps my hand in greeting as she speaks. As soon as she drops it, she takes me by the elbow and steers me deeper into the suite.
“What—?”
“Oh, no need to be alarmed, we just need to step out of the way of these fine people here.”
I turn back to the door just in time to see what appears to be a contingent of personal stylists and attendants, all sharply dressed in starched white shirts and dark bottoms, briskly entering my suite with purpose to their step. At the head of the line are two tall women, one brunette and one a fiery redhead, carrying what looks like a thin suitcase between them. When they open up the case and start setting up its contents on a side table, I see that it’s a massive collection of every kind of makeup imaginable. They’re followed closely by three ladies, each of whom are rolling a different rack of clothing into the room. Behind them are two young women who must be massage therapists because they immediately get to work setting up a treatment table.
“What is all this?” I say, once I can pick my jaw up off the floor.
“This is your team of personal attendants,” Claire says nonchalantly. “You can have any or all of them here any time you choose.”
“My team?”
“Yes. Prince Alexander was explicit in his orders that you were to be provided with the very best team of professionals that Saintland has to offer.” Claire beams at the hive of activity buzzing at full throttle around the room, and then looks me up and down. “I imagine that after your trip yesterday, you’ll want to enjoy a shower. When you’re done, you can begin your massage. The nail technician should be here by then, and after that, we can go over style options—.” At what must have been a befuddled look on my face, she laughs, waving her hand towards me dismissively. “Just hop into the shower, Ms. Reeves. We’ll be here when you get out.”
This is one part of royal life that I could definitely get used to.
For the rest of the morning and part of the afternoon, I am pampered shamelessly. The suite’s bathroom itself was a damn work of art—gleaming marble surfaces, a shower with three different faucets, and tilework that belongs in an art show—and after I emerged from the shower, scrubbed clean, my skin lightly scented by the hotel’s fragrant soap—a combination of vanilla and orchid that’s absolutely divine—I received the most sensual, relaxing massage of my life.
The beauty team went to work after that. I had my hair cut and styled. My makeup was applied so flawlessly I could hardly tell I was wearing any. They steered me through the decision process for choosing the perfect evening gown, shoes and accessories for an evening out. As busy as I was with all the fussing and attention, though, something was missing.
The one thing that nagged at me throughout the day was the silence. No calls from Alec. No texts from Alec. But he was all I could think about. My entire body throbbed with an aching need for him. After that mind-blowing kiss, it was unfair to leave me alone, fucking yearning for him. At several points throughout the day, I found myself rubbing my thighs together under my plush robe, trying to release some of the pent-up frustration centered between my legs.
“Is Alec—Prince Alexander—planning to visit me today?” I ask Claire in between my manicure and wardrobe selection.
“Oh, I’m sure he is,” she says with a sly grin. “I imagine he’ll be here as soon as his daily agenda allows.”
He can’t get here soon enough.
Just before seven, the team disperses, scattering into the hallway as if they’re all responding to an alarm that I can’t hear.
Claire is the last one to go. “I’ll be back tomorrow,” she says in an eager tone, just before she pulls the door closed behind her. “Have a wonderful evening, Ms. Reeves!”
I haven’t caught my breath from the day’s activity when there’s a double knock at the door.
I scramble anxiously to open it, even though I’m feeling slightly ridiculous wearing a silky red evening gown that’s cut low, showing off my cleavage to its best advantage, with a slit on the side of the skirt that allows my legs and satin shoes to peek out seductively. That is, I feel self-conscious until I see Alec standing there, dressed to the nines in a black tuxedo. When he sees me, his eyes light up with a lustful spark and he bites down on his lower lip.