Page 78 of Roaming Holiday

I can’t have more of him tonight, but I need it for a little longer. Wesley burrows his face in my neck, one hand flat against my lower back and the other caressing my thigh. He melts into me, reaching into every hidden corner of my soul.

I thread my fingers through his feather-soft hair, biting back a lustful sigh when I feel his lips graze the shell of my ear. He kisses me hard enough to send sparks between my thighs. And when he groans into my mouth, the sparks ignite.

Wesley suddenly lifts me off the counter and sets me down. He forces himself away, catching his breath and planting one last kiss on my temple. “Good night, angel.”

In the morning, after twenty minutes of saying goodbye, Wesley and I continue the drive.

I don’t have time to ponder what happened yesterday; Maia calls me and we spend two hours reviewing the data and presentation, and I spend the other two hours sleeping.

I am trying to do something revolutionary. This can change the course of a country and will have more than a chapter in a history book—it’ll need its own. I should be nervous. My heart should thunder in my chest because I hate being told no or feeling incompetent.

Neither my sister nor cousin warned me of Corsos’s grandeur. Never before have I seen so many mansions. It’s hard to marvel at the sights when I instantly think of the parents in Kosita who send their children to beg for money, of the city’s homeless population. The fire in my chest intensifies, telling me this proposal is the right choice. I couldn’t enjoy the luxuries of being a princess without doing everything possible to help the people I’d represent.

The car pulls through a private checkpoint and up to one of the mansions. Without enough time for a tour before the meeting, maids bring me right to my suite, which is unfathomably opulent. The plush bed has champagne and ivory pillows. Its fabric probably costs as much as my student debt. People live like this. All the time. My eyes snag on the box tied with a pink ribbon, and a thrill runs up my spine at the note attached.

Princess Nina,

We hope this care package comforts you during your stay.

The Higher Court

Princess Nina. Princess Nina. Princess Nina. It’s not a joke, not a lie. It’s me. I’m Princess Nina. I glance over my shoulder into the full-length mirror, at my curls, my brown skin, my tall frame. Princess.

It fits.

The passion hits me, quick and fierce. I want this. I truly, wholly want this.

38

WESLEY

When Nina went back to bed last night, I realized how far gone I am.

She is intoxicating. I’m at her mercy and I have been for months. It launches me into a dangerous game of balance; there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her. She inspires me to become a better person, but I’d do unspeakable things if it meant keeping her happy and safe. In the underground, love is a liability and always will be.

During the four-hour drive from my grandparents’ house to Corsos, I listed possible threats from my time underground. My work was thorough. While Santiago’s death inconvenienced his employees and associates, the ones who knew me either hated him or feared me enough to stay away.

Even with heavy security at the mansion, I remain outside Nina’s room. Employees are dotted around the property and we can’t take the risk that one of them works with Lo Revínastí.

My phone rings with a call from my colleague and I answer, “Mason.”

“Wrong,” Maia says. “Nina’s phone’s off and I don’t want to walk across the damn country in these heels. Where is she?”

“Inside her suite.”

“Tell her that we’re waiting,” she instructs. “She needs to get down here. Now.”

“Yes, madam,” I reply, knocking on the door after Maia hangs up. Once Nina gives me permission to enter, I see her pacing. She wears a light pink pantsuit, her hair in a bun with curls framing her face, which I now realize is my favorite hairstyle of hers.

“The Higher Court is waiting for you.”

“Okay,” she exhales, shaking out her hands. “Just—I need a minute.”

“Nina—”

She stops in the middle of the room and stares at me. “Please tell me if my plan is bad and I am begging you not to be impartial on this because you’re the only one I trust to give me honest advice.” She holds her hands against her stomach, entire body tense.

I hate seeing her like this, especially because of her brilliance. I’ve long known this, but listening to her talk to Maia on the way here showed me in a completely different way. She’s compassionate, wise, and strong. People are drawn to her in ways she doesn’t realize.

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