Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 174632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 699(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Well. Fuck.
Ian turned as Prince Kassim strode into the conference room, commanding attention.
“You’ve done it now,” Jack whispered next to him. “We are dead fucking meat.” Jack didn’t sound all that worried. But Ian started wondering why the fuck he’d piped up. This was the most stability they’d had since they’d left the armed forces.
Was Prince Kassim really going to take offense at what he’d just said? The man put up with Wolfe and Judd.
Kassim stood at the head of the conference table next to Caleb, staring calmly at Ian.
Few people could unnerve him. Wolfe was one of them. And Kassim was another. But for entirely different reasons. The prince was powerful, wealthy, and intelligent, yet he never tried to use his power to influence or belittle them. Ian admired him. And that wasn’t something he’d ever expected to feel toward a man with such wealth and privilege.
“I didn’t mean any offense,” Ian said gruffly.
Judd snorted and Ian shot him a glare. Judd held up his hands. “I actually agree. Weddings seem kind of a waste of time.”
“I wouldn’t advise you to tell Chloe that,” Kassim said dryly. “She might have a different view.”
Judd actually winced. “I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t mean that getting married to Chloe is a waste of time. Just all the shit that comes with a wedding.”
“Monkey suits, photographers, having to talk to people you don’t even like, dancing, wedding cake.” Wolfe ticked each thing off on his fingers. “All pointless.”
“Hey!” Aleki protested. “Cake is never pointless.”
Caleb sighed. “I think we’ve gotten off track.”
“You honestly thought we’d stay on track?” Hux asked with a grin.
“This is serious,” Caleb said, looking around at them all. “We need to guarantee the safety of the royal family while managing outside guests and visitors.”
“Unfortunately, we cannot entirely shut out the rest of the world.” Kassim frowned. “Believe me, I have done my best to ensure that as few outsiders as possible have been invited. My mother wanted to invite fifty overseas guests, but I have reduced them to twenty-two. They are all staying off-site. I am all too aware of the threat of Pinky. But the local photographer had to cancel and we were lucky enough that William agreed to step in at the last minute.”
Still sounded like a fucking disaster to him.
“Security will be extremely tight from now until after the wedding,” Caleb said. “Especially for anyone around the royal family. William Stonehurst and his assistant, Maggie Albany, will be arriving in ten days. They won’t be staying at the palace. We’ve put them into guest accommodations.”
“William has dual citizenship between Escana and the UK,” Kassim explained. “He lived here for several years as his wife was Escanaian and a friend of my mother’s. And his assistant is his niece. They aren’t a security risk.”
Ian thought those sounded like famous last words to him.
2
“You know, normally, if I let someone touch my knickers, I’d expect them to buy me dinner first,” she joked.
The customs officer paused. Then he glanced up, giving her an incredulous look.
Maggie cleared her throat. Yeah, that was kind of a stupid thing to say to a customs officer. She always got nervous at airports. She felt guilty even when she had done nothing wrong.
It was ridiculous!
But she couldn’t help it, which is why she was shifting from foot to foot nervously as this hot, scary-as-fuck guy pawed over every little thing in her suitcase.
Even more nerve-racking, she didn’t know where Uncle Willy was. A different customs officer had led him off somewhere else. Although at least that officer had seemed friendly.
Unlike Mr. Grumpy-Knickers-Man.
She hoped he was all right. Uncle Willy, not the guy touching her underwear. New situations often confused her uncle. “Can I please see my uncle?”
The customs officer, who she’d noticed wasn’t wearing a uniform, stilled and gave her a stern look. “No.”
Yikes.
She hoped this wasn’t a sign of Escanaian hospitality. Although this guy had dirty-blond hair and an English accent.
“Well, why not?”
“Because I said so.”
Because he said so?
Wow. This guy was something else. Who said that anyway? She wasn’t a naughty child asking for more pudding.
Although sometimes she had been known to be naughty. And she did love pudding.
“I’d kill for some spotted dick right now,” she muttered.
“What?” He gaped at her.
“With custard. And whipped cream.”
His eyes widened.
“You’re English, right? You can’t tell me you’ve never had some spotted dick before.”
“The pudding?”
Well . . . what else would it be?
This guy was a tad odd.
“Because you said so?” she repeated, crossing her arms over her chest, irritation filling her. “Is that really an answer?”
“Yep.”
She heaved out a long, loud sigh. Just so he knew how irritated she was. Then, she realized that wasn’t a very polite way to behave. This guy was just doing his job.
Even if he was being a bit of a prick about it.