Page 66 of Crown of Thorns
As promised, I eat my turkey sandwich and it’s the best sandwich I’ve ever had in my life.
After making love to me, I took a nap while Rhys held me. When I woke, he made love to me again, then we showered together, and now I’m back in the makeup chair in my robe, eating the most delicious turkey sandwich in the whole world, while David gives me a bouncy blowout.
Rhys lounges on the sofa, watching the whole thing with a smile on his face. Crazy man thinks this is hilarious.
When I’m done with my sandwich, I wipe my mouth with a napkin and David’s partner, Patrice, redoes my makeup, but a little smokier than before. No one would know I got romped prettygood—twice—before my new husband tossed me in the shower.
Somewhere around the time I’m getting my makeup done, Rhys excused himself to the dressing room to change into his tuxedo. When he comes back, he looks spectacular. It’s enough to take my breath away.
I can’t believe the universe made this man my husband, in one way or another. I’ve decided that tonight, I’m ignoring the fact that he picked me out of a Sears catalog of potential royal brides instead, choosing to lean heavily into the fairytale romance of it all.
When I’m done, Rhys helps me from the makeup chair and says to my team, “Thanks for your help. I’ll see her from here.”
“Do not mess up my masterpiece,” David warns dramatically. “At least not until after the party.”
“Aye. I promise.”
When they leave, Rhys helps me into my next dress, the cream colored satin princess dress with the deep Basque waist and tapered straps. This time, instead of Maeve, Rhys clips his mother’s earrings to my ears and drapes the heavy, matching necklace from the set around my neck. It’s an honor to have him place something so meaningful on me for this special occasion.
And then the dreaded heels that might actually be the death of me.
When I let out a groan, he chuckles and then kneels before me, gently slipping each heel on my feet like my own Prince Charming. And last, he holds out thefluffy angora shrug for me to slip my arms into. It only covers my back and upper arms but it’s chilly now that night has fallen, and it complements my dress beautifully.
With my hand in his, Rhys and I leave the comfort of our rooms and rejoin the world. Our reception is in full swing when we arrive and without the press here, it’s a lot of fun. A beautiful dinner is served, drinks are flowing, and we dance a lot.
By midnight, I’m drained. It’s been a wild week and all I want to do is crash in my bed. But the party still going, Rhys is still socializing, and I don’t want to take his fun away from him. How often does a man like him really get to cut loose? Probably not often. I just need a break to get some air and freshen up a bit.
“I’m going to the ladies’ room,” I lean in and whisper in his ear.
“Don’t be gone too long,” he says before kissing me quickly and then letting me go.
“I won’t.”
I make my way out of the reception and down the hall to the ladies’ room. I go into the stall and handle things but when I wash my hands, I realize I didn’t bring my lipstick with me. Thankfully, Suzanne walks out of the next stall and washes her hands.
“Fancy meeting you here,” she says. “This has been a great party.”
“Thanks. I can’t take all the credit… or any at all,” I laugh.
“Are you hiding out?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I answer. “I just came in here to find some quiet and my second wind. Besides, I need to touch up my lipstick, only now I can’t find it. Bummer since this dress has cool hidden pockets.”
“That’s fine,” she laughs at my antics. “You can use mine.”
“Thanks,” I reply before swiping the gloss across my lips. “You’re a life saver.”
I twist the cap back on, passing it back to its owner. I wipe a smudge at the corner of my mouth with my fingertip before twisting the wisps that David artfully framed my face with around my fingers to spruce them up a bit.
“Thanks again.”
“Like I said, this color is perfect for your olive skin. I’m a little jealous,” she says with a wink.
I’ll never get used to looking at myself like this. Like a princess… No,a queen. Or someone who’s soon to be one.
My dress is made from yards and yards of pristine cream-colored satin that’s been pleated and gathered here and there to form a perfect bodice with a Basque waist that skims my body down to my waist and then burst out, falling to the floor in a fluffy ballgown skirt. Artfully beaded Louboutin’s dyed the same color peek out from the hem. But it’s the huge diamond chandelier earrings that hang from my ears featuring emerald teardrops that hang in the middle and a massive matchingnecklace that wraps around my neck.
Maeve had the hairstylist carefully curl my hair and pin a few pieces back away from my face. They pinned the heavy diamond crown in place, its delicate swirls and valleys and peaks tipped with—small-ish for royals—diamonds. She said I would adjust to its weight but there’s no way I can.
