Page 54 of Royally Rivalled

“How so?” I asked.

“It’s smaller, less impressive, and much louder than I expected. The noise… it’s giving me headaches. And what is this horrid music?”

“House music,” I answered. “It is dreadful.”

“I know you will say I wanted to go, but I am here to admit you might be right, Parker.”

I took a moment, then nodded at her gin and tonic. “Slam your drink, Princess. Let’s get out of here and find a proper bar.”

She followed orders well for the first time in her life, and we decamped down the road to another location—a whisky bar with a jazz pianist playing in the background. Astrid and I sat at the bar top and waited for the bartender, a man in his late thirties, to come over.

He asked in a thick Glaswegian accent, “Hello. What can I get you, love?”

She looked at me.

“No, no. Not yer boyfriend—not whathewants. What doyouwant to try? We’ve got a little of everything.”

She and I both blushed at that assumption, but she responded. “I’m not sure. I don’t drink much whisky.”

“Something smooth, not too peaty, maybe?” The bartender looked at me. “Simpler that way?”

I nodded, knowing Astrid had no idea what any of that meant.

“I will bring you a flight.”

“See, he’ll bring us options,” I said. “We can try them and pick our favourites.”

Astrid’s smile returned. She was still nervous but calming.

“Why do you get so flustered?” I asked. “I watch you lead a seminar or a lecture or even discuss findings, and you’re dreadfully confident. You call me out like it is your job, but Astrid, you struggle?—”

“When you’ve been locked up your entire life, Parker, shit gets weird.” Astrid’s smile faded when my curiosity hit a nerve.

“Sorry, I keep forgetting that,” I said. “Look, about last night and?—”

“Last night was fine,” Astrid said. “But I feel you don’t want to do it again. You don’t have to explain. It doesn’t hurt my feelings.”

It very much sounded like it did. Our whiskies arrived as I searched for any words that might make sense.

“Astrid, I’d do it again in a heartbeat. You don’t owe me that, but I do enjoy you.”

Astrid’s face showed surprise, no longer dismay.

“Taste the whisky,” I urged. “It’s good, I’m sure.”

We dabbled in each tasting before settling on two we liked. Few words were said, but she was calming. I was terrible with women like this, and she read any curiosity or slight criticism as me coming for her. I’d caused that myself. I hadn’t exactly been Prince Charming to date.

“I’m not in love with you,” Astrid protested.

“And I’m not in love with you,” I laughed.

“But I’d do it again, is all.”

“Same.”

“Let’s get the check, Parker.”

I paid an exceedingly expensive tab for a small outing to a bar and then hailed a cab back to our hotel—long before our charges came home. In the cab, we snogged like overzealous teenagers. I tested my luck, running my hand slightly up her short dress. We barely made it into my hotel room before clothing flew. Astrid was wilder than ever,and I was on the receiving end of her appreciation for my previous efforts. The mere vision of her there, naked again in my bed, was enough of a reward.

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