Page 38 of Royally Wed
The bride.
A muscle in Asher’s jaw ticked. The room burst into applause as Jeremy escorted Amelia downstage to greet the musicians.
It was customary for the strings section of an orchestra to be situated at the front. The violins came first, followed by the violas. Then the cellos.
As nonchalantly as he could, Asher watched Ameliaintroduce herself to the first chair violinist. The violist said something, and Amelia smiled politely and nodded. While the people surrounding her laughed, Amelia took the opportunity to sneak a glance at Asher. He winked at her, and when she responded with a subtle quirk of her bow-shaped lips, he went instantly hard.
What the hell was wrong with him?
He was publicly flirting with the princessof England at the rehearsal for her wedding ceremony. If anyone in the room could be privy to the thoughts running through his head, he’d probably be thrown into the Tower.
He needed to get a handle on himself. No... what he needed was a damn reality check.
He let out a tense exhale and averted his gaze. In a matter of seconds, she was going to be standing right in front of him. He was goingto have to look her in the eye and pretend she wasn’t his first thought when he woke up every morning and that he didn’t lie in the Blue Room at night and dream about her willowy legs wrapped around his hips while he drove himself into her. He was going to have to shake her hand while everyone watched, all the while wishing that he could touch her under vastly different circumstances.
There wassomething very wrong with him. He shouldn’t be having those kinds of thoughts about an engaged woman. Amelia wasn’t his. She never would be. Which was probably for the best. She drove him a little crazy.
He couldn’t deny how adorable he found her wacky streak, though.
A headache began to gather at the base of Asher’s skull. He closed his eyes and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyelids,willing it to go away.
He heard the clearing of a throat, then Jeremy’s sharpened tone. “And this is Mr. Asher Reed, our cello soloist.”
Asher opened his eyes and found Amelia gazing up at him with the naughtiest Princess Naughty expression she could possibly have mustered.
“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Reed,” she purred.
“The pleasure is all mine, Your Royal Highness,” hesaid, taking her hand as she extended it toward him.
Her skin was every bit as soft as he’d remembered. As exquisitely smooth as rose petals. When their fingertips touched, Asher was struck with a jolt of awareness so strong that he nearly swayed on his feet. Amelia’s eyes widened, and her lips parted, just the slightest bit.
She feels it, too.
How could she not?
She took a deep breath, butleft her hand right where it was—nestled inside his. “How are you enjoying your stay in London?”
“It’s had its challenges, but I’m finding my way.” Asher couldn’t help himself. He dragged the pad of his thumb along the inside of her cupped palm. It was just a tiny, secret way to acknowledge the fact that he was no stranger. He knew Amelia, probably better than anyone else in the building did.
She let out a nearly imperceptible gasp. Asher looked down at their intertwined hands and smiled to himself when he saw goose bumps on her graceful arms.
“Good on you, then,” she said.
Yes, good on him.
“Our second-chair cellist is from Liverpool and a member of the London Philharmonic,” Jeremy said, shuffling Amelia further down the line.
She cast a final glance at Asher, and then introducedherself to the other musician.
As they shook hands, Jeremy leveled Asher with a glare. He leaned toward him and lowered his voice to a murmur. “The moment this is finished, you and I need to have a word.”
And just like that, Asher’s frustration returned. Full force.
ONCE AMELIA HAD METeach and every musician, Asher applauded alongside the rest of the orchestra and watched her make her wayback to Cadogan Hall’s lobby. Even before she was fully out of view, Jeremy met Asher’s gaze and jabbed an angry pointer finger in the direction of the foyer. Within seconds, Asher found himself once again being berated in the storage room.
He couldn’t help but wonder if the location was anintentional choice. Perhaps a power move on Jeremy’s part? There was something undeniably humiliating aboutbeing dressed down by your conductor in the presence of a mop and bucket.
“Damn it, Asher. You told me you were prepared for this.” Jeremy jammed his hands on his hips. His elbow banged into an industrial-sized vacuum cleaner, and he let loose a stream of curse words.
