Page 96 of Royally Benevolent

The idea of Odette in new lingerie was almost too much. I had a one o’clock and needed to fight the image of her in bed waiting. God, I wanted that!

I buzzedStephen.

“Yes, sir?”

“Let’s coordinate with The Princess’s team. She’s coming to Paris with me this weekend. Schedule spa treatments for her on Saturday morning.”

He paused, probably in a state of confusion. “Of course, sir. Should I assume The Princess will be further involved in the future?”

“She’s not attending the meetings with me on Friday, but yes. Assume that.”

“I will do that, sir. Her private secretary offered her diary before. Should I request those updates on a regular interval?”

“Please,” I said. “And offer the same for my schedule.”

We’d officially reached the “exchanging calendars” stage of the relationship.

55

THE OBJECT OF HIS AFFECTION

ODETTE

By now, my consumption of billionaire romances was out of control. I’d finally put the toy Astrid bought me for my birthday to work. On nights Iwasn’twith Wyatt, I was beyond help. It was something desperate. I needed to get off. I hated that consuming these books becamecomforting—as much as I’d resisted them in the past. A feature I particularly enjoyed was where the heroine would lay in bed waiting for the billionaire hero.

Such was the case of a particularly spicy scene I’d read while on my way to Paris with Wyatt on Monday morning. He was busy working while I basked in the glow of happy orgasms and fabulous aftercare. We arrived, and I was all wound up and wishing he didn’t have a meeting.

“Just check-in and I will keep you updated,” Wyatt kissed me outside the hotel’s back entrance.

“When do you expect to come back?”

“Probably around ten, but Paris only gets better later. Take a long nap. Put anything you want on my hotel tab. Go wild and spoilyourself.”

I blushed.

He brushed my chin with his thumb. “Go, enjoy. I’ll take you out late. Buy something pretty.”

Lingerie was my mission. I kissed him one last time. “I will be counting the minutes.”

I departed, and a concierge guided me to the VIP lift.

“The Penthouse, ma’am.” He gestured as we entered a fabulous suite that occupied an entire floor.

Even for me, this was wild. I honestlydidget the royal treatment this weekend. I tipped the concierge and bellhop who delivered my luggage. It was time to relax. I took a long bath in the fabulous tub, changed into a breezy summer dress and sun hat, and rang my driver. We’d come down relatively incognito, but I would be followed by plain-clothes detail everywhere.

I luxuriated among racks of sexy, romantic lace at one of the lingerie shops Alexandra ordered from.

“Are you looking for anything in particular?” an attendant asked.

“Something to wow my boyfriend,” I answered. “I want to surprise him when he gets in tonight.”

“Lovely. Well, we should have some options to emphasise your curves.”

I worried they’d turn their noses up in some act of French protest about my body. Instead, the woman chose flattering options. I walked away with two chemises and a dangerously inappropriate see-through thong body suit. Back at the hotel, I had dinner, watched television, took another long bath just because I could, and saw a text from Wyatt.

Wyatt

Meeting ended early. They had official business. On my way!

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