Page 8 of Royal Darling
“I’d really prefer if you travel further afield.”
I cock my head. “And I don’t care what you prefer.” I finish with the anchor and go above deck to the controls. My mate taught me how to operate the boat, and I took to it like a duck to water.
She’s at my side a few minutes later as I’m pulling away from the dock. “I’ll make myself indispensible to you. Starting right now. Teach me how to drive this thing and then we can do it in shifts.”
I grind my teeth. You don’tdrivea boat. Besides, this is supposed to be my solo trip so I can get my shit together, and I’m not babysitting her. “How about instead of being indispensible, you make yourself invisible?”
Her lower lip sticks out in a pout that I want to suck and bite.No, no, no.It hasn’t been that long for me, has it? Since I got on the houseboat. A month. That’s actually a long time for me, which makes me feel better. It’s not her. Any pouty porn-star lips will do.
I turn my attention back to navigating away from Villroy.
“Thank you, Jackson. I promise you won’t even know I’m here.” She gives my arm a squeeze and it warms at the spot. Hell.
I let out a long low sigh. “Give your people a ring and let them know you’re safe. I don’t want them coming after me.”
“Once we’re well on our way, I promise.”
I don’t know why I think I can trust her promise after she’s clearly capable of deception, hiding from her own wedding in disguise, but I do. She’s something of a walking, talking contradiction.
A reluctant smile tugs at my lips.
Emma
I secretly watch Jackson at the controls for a while, out of sight, in case there’s some kind of boating emergency and he desperately needs me to take over. It looks pretty simple. Once we’re out to open sea, he seems to just be standing there, so I decide to play maid. I do want to be useful.
First order of business—the messy bedroom. I pick the dirty clothes off the floor and look around for the laundry hamper. I find a tiny closet with one item—a guitar case. Well, I’m not going to pile dirty clothes on that. It’s likely his prize possession. I set the dirty clothes on top of the dresser and start poking through the dresser drawers, looking for a laundry bag of some sort. There’s only more clothes, none of them folded. Hmm, are these dirty or clean?
“What’re you doing?”
I jump and whirl, my heart jackrabbitting against my rib cage. “I was putting away your dirty clothes.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m indispensible.” My voice rises at the end almost like a question. I add a curt nod to cement my assertion.
He grabs the pile of clothes from the top of the dresser and tosses them up to a small overhead alcove I now see is the keeper of the dirty clothes. He turns back to me. “Sit in the living room and don’t touch my things.”
Ungrateful. Doesn’t he know it’s an extraordinary gesture on my part to play maid? I have servants for this kind of thing. I open my mouth to say just that, but think better of it. It won’t serve my goal of staying on the boat. I was hoping his threat of dropping me off at the next port was manly bluster, like my brothers do, but I have to consider the possibility that he meant it.
I head to the living room and take a seat on the sofa.
He follows and stops in front of me for a moment, staring at me with an unreadable expression.
“You should keep steering or we’ll likely run aground,” I tell him.
“Thanks for the tip,Your Highness,” he grumbles and leaves.
Well. He needn’t be so sarcastic. If he does allow me to stay, then our deal was that we’d be lovers, which I enthusiastically agreed to. What better way to break free from the old proper Emma than raw dirty sex with a bad-boy rock star? At least I assume that’s the kind of sex he has. I haven’t had sex in years. I’m long overdue and feeling just reckless enough to go through with it. I’ve already leaped from my old life. This brief reprieve is meant to give me a peek at a new life. I hope.
I head back to the bedroom and stare at the messy bed, considering what it’d be like to share it with Jackson. I flush with heat at the mere thought of him naked. It’s a double bed, not very wide. I imagine he takes up most of it with his big muscular frame. I’ll have to sleep pressed up against him all night. I rub the side of my neck, imagining him pressing a kiss there. I have never spent the night with a man. Sex, yes. Sleep over, no. It was impossible because of who I am and who he is. I wonder, not for the first time, how Adam is doing. It’s been six years. Maybe he’s married with a family of his own. A pang of longing jolts me into action, straightening the covers on the bed and smoothing them. It’s not that I begrudge Adam any happiness. I just wish we could’ve stayed in touch. He gave me so much, taught me so much. For a time, I felt free, happy, like anything was possible. That was when I was young and stupid. Only eighteen, away from home for the first time at university. I had him for a year, and I loved him with all of my heart. Maybe that’s the real reason I deserted Abdul. I felt nothing for him, not even the slightest bit of attraction, and I knew the difference.
I frown, looking at my handiwork. The bed doesn’t look as good as when Lina does it. Maybe because there’s no sham or decorative throw pillows. I pull the blanket over the pillows and tuck a bit, but now it doesn’t quite reach the bottom of the bed. Ah, a compromise. I shift the pillows down, readjust the blanket to cover the bottom of the bed, and voila! Bed made nice and pretty.
I step out and peek into the tiny bathroom to see what I might be able to tidy up in there. It still smells a bit like sick. I quickly switch to breathing through my mouth and slide open the small rectangular window above the toilet. I turn my attention to the sink. There’s some toothpaste bits and whiskers in there. My gut churns, bile rising due to the gross bits and the smell. I can’t do it. I rush out of the bathroom and move on to the kitchen.
Okay, I can wash this little pile of dishes in the sink. I find a scrubber sponge and dish detergent under the sink and pour a generous amount of soap. A moment later, I realize my mistake. Too much soap. The bubbles are taking over, and everything is extremely slippery. No problem, I’ll just run the water.La-la-la.I really am making myself indispensible. I run the sponge over everything, rinse for a very long time, and set it neatly on the counter.
I explore the rest of the cabin. The main living room doesn’t have much. Just the U-shaped sofa and table, his closed laptop, and a built-in cabinet with a TV. I move on to the front of the boat with another smaller seating area similar to the living room, but done in a faded red. The matching curtains obscure the view. I lift the curtain and gaze at the sea. Freedom. It’s a beautiful thing.
