Page 51 of Turbulent Fires

She giggles. “How old were you?”

“Eleven.” She laughs harder.

“That’s terrible. My first kiss was under the bleachers when I was fifteen. He missed the first time, moved back in, and barely touched my lips, then jerked and hit my nose. Blood gushed and went everywhere. He panicked and cried. That was my first realization that I intimidate men.”

I laugh hard at this, picturing Audrey’s outrage at her perfect moment getting ruined by a moron. “It takes a man like me to be able to handle a woman like you.” I rub my chest. She pinches my nipple, and I squeak.

“Hey, careful there.”

She laughs. “You canbarelyhandle me.”

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.” I’m not joking. I love every minute with this woman. I don’t want her to change, not a single bit. I love her stubbornness, independence, and talent. She’s a woman too good for most of the world.

We eventually are forced to climb back on the horses. Mine gives me another look, and I pray we make it back to the castle with no broken bones. I’d say it’s a fifty-fifty chance. I’ve always enjoyed living on the edge, so why stop now?

Somehow we do, then head to our suite which has two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a sitting room, a kitchen area, and a living room. It’s a full-size home inside of a wing of the castle. I wonder how many people get lost inside this building. I wonder how many people it takes to run it. What does it all cost? I can’t imagine growing up in a world like this. I grew up with wealth, but my parents gave us normalcy as well. I wouldn’t trade my life for anything, not even a castle and crown, though even little boys have dreams of being royal every once in a while.

We head to our own bathrooms as we get ready for a royal ball. I have to admit, I’m excited. I want to see how the royals behave. I’ve seen them in movies and want to know if reality is anything like the Hollywood version. A tux has been left for me. I’d rather have my own, but it’s tucked away in the States. I never enjoy wearing the monkey suits, but there are times they’re expected. The last time I wore mine was when my brother Drake dared me to crash a billionaire gala and pretend to be a Swedish prince. That was fun. I got three phone numbers and a business card from a woman offering me a yacht. Drake had to pay me a hundred bucks. He thought I’d get tossed for sure.

I finish before Audrey and head downstairs to wait for her. When I finally see her descend the marble staircase, it’s like watching a dream in motion. She’s wearing a fitted blue dress that shimmers with each step she takes. The neckline makes me forget my own name. Her hair’s swept up, exposing her slender neck, leaving a few curls defiantly hanging in a teasing way. She’s elegance and rebellion bottled into one breathtaking vision that’s sure to fill my dreams for years to come.

“You’re stunning,” I tell her with reverence.

“I was about to say the same to you,” she breathes as she reaches up and brushes my shoulder. I don’t think anything’s on me, we just always seem to need to touch each other. I pray this feeling lasts a lifetime.

“My brain’s short-circuiting,” I admit. “You might need to reboot me. I have the perfect lever for you to make the reset.” I grin as she shakes her head. She then winks which lets me know we truly are made for one another. She’s wanting to push that lever as much as I want her to do it.

She weaves her arm through mine, and we move forward, entering the hallway that leads to the ballroom, and then we stop at the entrance. I’m impressed with the huge room filled with soft lighting and gold-trimmed royalty. Many eyes shift to the two of us.

I don’t care. I pull her straight to the dance floor, needing to hold her. I pull her close and sway to the live music as we spin together, making our own personal bubble which no one is allowed to enter. I’m mesmerized by the sound of her laughter and the sparkle in her eyes. I’ll do all I can to bring joy to this woman so I can experience moments just like this for an eternity.

The music pauses and we’re forced to socialize, my least favorite part of any party. It’s why I rarely attend formal events. I can’t stand rubbing elbows, and how people feel the need to outdo one another.

“So, you’re the American,” some earl with a made-up sounding name says to me before his eyes dart to Audrey. “We assumed when you came home, you’d find a suitable man... a banker, or at least someone who plays polo.” I’ve heard the phrase “someone looking down their nose at you” but never understood it until the man glances at me... and focuses on my shoes for a beat too long. “Not a man wearingtheseshoes.”

I look at my Italian leather boots, slightly damp from our ride today. I give him a serious look and speak with formality while holding in my laughter. “These shoes were blessed by a monk in Florence and once worn by a man who outran a goat stampede in Sardinia.”

The earl blinks, unsure if I’m serious. As the royals aren’t known for their sense of humor, he decides to take me at my word. “I see...” Audrey lets out a cough to cover her laugh.

As we move through the room, the Duchess of Cornwall, a steely woman who’d likely scare a lesser man into celibacy, approaches.

“You fly, do you?” she asks, peering at me through glasses that look older than democracy.

“Yes, ma’am,” I say, adding a southern drawl to my voice. “Mostly on an airplane, but I’ve been working real hard on levitation.”

She doesn’t so much as crack a smile. “And...you’rewith Audrey.”

“Mostly,” I say with a shrug.

“Is it voluntary?” I think this is a serious question. Then again, I am talking to another royal. They’ve been known to kidnap their brides. I give her my famous wolfish grin.

“Some of the time. There are others when I have to keep her locked up. I learned from the royals about quality binding devices.”

Audrey nudges me with her elbow, trying not to break into full laughter. She looks at the duchess. “We’re very compatible,” she tells her. “We do, however, like misbehaving at times.”

The woman turns up her nose even further than I thought possible, and then walks away. I wonder how they keep from walking into walls with their heads so high. This is more fun than I thought it would be. Messing with royalty could be a new pastime for me. I hope I don’t get a front row seat in that dungeon by the end of the night. Then again, it would certainly be a once-in-a-lifetime adventure I could talk about on poker night . . . if I ever got released, that is.

Eventually, after many more awkward meetings and some questionable hors d’oeuvres, we slip out to a quiet patch of lawn behind the palace. The stars are brighter than I was expecting. The ball is fun, but there’s only so much time I can spend with people who seem like aliens to me. The quiet of the night is a welcome relief after all of the noise.

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