Page 103 of Royally Benevolent

“Yes. Turn down the heat and toss the pasta into the big pot.”

She did as I said.

“Give it a minute,” I said. “Then you’ll take some pasta water to put in the sauce.”

I watched her mull over the “why” of that.

“Because of the gluten? Is it a thickener?”

“Bingo,” I laughed. “Yes. It’s a secret to many good Italian sauces.”

She smiled, satisfied. “Okay, well, I’m not completely out of my depth. And Grieg? His parentage goes back to the Norwegians. Queen Kiersten has St Charles Spaniels. She gave a breeding pair to Alexandra’s mother-in-law. Grieg is the result of a litter. He dug me out of a terrible hole. I owe him everything. If I worried Theo might hurt him, I wouldn’t let them run around.”

“I cannot believe you rode your bike here and then sent a separate car for the dog,” I chuckled.

“It was too hot for him. I wouldn’t make him suffer because I couldn’t resist the chance to surprise my boyfriend at work.”

“Surprise me? You definitely did that.”

Odette dipped a spoon into the pasta water and instinctively swirled it around.

I kissed her neck. “You can add another, too.”

“You make it hard to concentrate,” Odette giggled. “Do you want dinner or not? Weren’t you supposed to put that bread in the pizza oven?”

“Fuck,” I groaned. “I got distracted.”

Odette snickered but resisted saying more. I loved her for holding it together when I couldn’t. The vision of what we’d done in my office would live forever in my mind as the naughtiest—and most inappropriate—thing I’d ever done in a place of business. Even if I owned the space, it wasn’ttechnicallyokay to fuck my girlfriend on my desk after hours.

“I’m on my way out.”

Mom entered.

“The dog is being spoiled by a pile of books being read to him, Odette. I hope he likesThe Very Hungry Caterpillar.”

“He has the French and Danish versions at our house,” Odette said. “He will like the variety of English, I think.”

It amazed me how children could learn two or three languages flawlessly, while after years of trying to sound like I understood French, I couldn’t.

“Enjoy the evening, Mom,” I said.

She kissed my cheek. “You as well. Don’t burn the house down.”

“I will try not to,” Odette giggled.

Mom shot me a look as if she kneweverything. I hadn’t told her I’d told Odette I loved her. I only said that I wanted Odette to wake up here sometimes at a reasonable hour when the sun was out and that I’d like it if she supported that. Mom liked Odette. She didn’t mind at all. She believed that what was good for me was good for Theo. And given that he’d been far more interested in Odette staying over than talking to me since I came home, I would say it was true. Theo adored her.

Mom ducked out, and I put the bread in the pizza oven to crust, having sliced a crosshatch pattern. Odette continued to add water—as needed—to the dish. She already had the hang of it. I smashed and chopped garlic for the bread’s dipping sauce.

“You’re a natural at that.” I nodded at the stove.

Odette blushed.

“I’m serious. It’s all just chemistry, Odette. You’ve figured it out.”

“Sometimes, chemistry works in mysterious ways,” Odette said.

“I’d kiss you, but my hands are covered in garlic.”

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