Affairs of State (Daughters of Power: The Capital #6)(14)
Author: Jennifer Lewis

She sighed. “It’s not like we’re…serious.” Was she trying to convince herself? Their weekend together had been so easy and fun. She and Simon really clicked. They could talk about anything. And the sex…

“Says who?” He sauntered into the room. “I can be very serious when the occasion calls for it.” He walked up behind her where she stood at the mirror and slid his arms around her waist. His lips pressed hotly into her neck and sent heat plunging to her toes. “And I seriously like you.”

She blinked, looking from her startled face to his relaxed one in the mirror. “I like you, too, but it is a strange situation, you have to admit.”

“My entire life is a strange situation, by most measurable parameters.” He nibbled on her ear, which made her gasp. “I don’t let it bother me.”

“I guess when you put it that way…” Her words trailed off as their eyes locked in the mirror. His managed to sparkle with amusement and desire at the same time. His hands roamed over her h*ps and belly, setting off tremors of desire. Last night’s lovemaking still reverberated in her mind and body. If she could just get through this afternoon without any drama they’d be back in bed together, tonight. Their last night before her flight back to D.C. tomorrow.

Without making a decision to, she turned and kissed him, smudging her carefully applied makeup and gripping him in a forceful embrace. If this was all they ever had it would be well worth it. No regrets.

At least she hoped not.

* * *

“And this is my grandmother.” Simon smiled encouragingly. People milled around them in the royal enclosure, laughing and clinking glasses. Photographers were at a discreet distance. Mallets thwacked against balls somewhere in the background.

The queen looked so tiny up close. Ariella began to curtsey, but the queen stuck out her hand, so she took it. Cool and soft, the fingers closed around hers with surprising strength. “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Winthrop. Simon tells me you’ve never been to a polo match before.” Steel-blue eyes peered into her very core.

“No, this is my first.”

“Simon also informs me that President Morrow is your father.” The queen’s cool grip trapped her hands.

“Um, yes.” Did she realize they’d never met, or even spoken? “Rather a surprise to both of us.”

“Surprises do keep life interesting, don’t they?”

“They do indeed.”

The queen bombarded her with information about the various polo ponies, their breeding and track records and finer qualities. She was clearly skilled at holding the entire conversation with little participation from others. Ariella decided she’d work on that skill herself. It seemed a safe way to keep conversations on the right track.

Simon smiled and nodded and generally seemed delighted at how things were progressing. Ariella smiled and nodded while thinking, Omigosh, I’m chatting about horses with the queen. And I don’t know anything about horses. And I’m sleeping with her grandson.

She was definitely ready for a Pimm’s by the time a new arrival interrupted their conversation to greet Her Majesty. Simon procured her a large glass of the tea-colored drink with its floating mix of strawberries, apples, orange and cucumber. She knew the sweet taste hid a base of gin, so she sipped it gingerly, not wanting to find herself giggling and falling over in her stilettos as some of the younger guests were already in danger of doing.

Simon’s younger brother Henry was at the center of the group of more rambunctious partygoers, and Ariella felt a sense of apprehension as Simon led her over to meet him.

As tall as Simon, but with curlier hair and bright blue eyes, the youngest prince had a reputation as a hard-partying playboy.

“I see you convinced her to step into the fray.” He fixed his eyes on hers as he kissed her hand, which felt very awkward in front of the gathered crowd of guests. Young girls, spilling out of their expensive dresses, stared at her with curiosity.

“My brother, Henry, Ariella Winthrop.” Simon made the introduction.

“I think everyone in the developed world knows who Ms. Winthrop is. And she’s even lovelier than her photographs.”

What did you say to a comment like that? “It’s nice to meet you.”

“But is it? You haven’t known me long enough to be sure.”

“Don’t scare Ariella.” Simon was smiling. “She’s just heard the pedigrees of the entire equine half of the polo team from Gran.”

“I hope you showed a suitable degree of fascination. Gran is very suspicious of anyone who doesn’t share her passion for horses.”

“I freely admit that I know almost nothing about horses.”

“I thought Montana was cowboy country?” Henry was obviously enjoying this.

“Some parts of it are, but not where I lived.”

“I think Ariella would make a marvelous cowgirl.” Simon slid his arm around her waist. She tried to keep a straight face. Did he really want to do that in front of all these people? She felt eyes boring into her from all directions. “But I intend to make her fall in love with England.”

Henry raised an eyebrow. “He must be serious. Usually he can’t wait to get on a plane and go somewhere looking for adventure.”

“Ariella has me thinking about adventures closer to home.”

Ariella could hardly believe her ears. He was all but declaring himself. Maybe this was some kind of ongoing joke between him and his brother. She had no idea how to react. “I like England very much.”

“Well, thank goodness for that. There’s one thing I can’t change about myself, and that’s my homeland.” Simon squeezed her gently, which sent a ripple of confused emotions through her.

“I’m not sure you can change all that much else, either.” Henry teased Ariella. “He’s very bullheaded and opinionated.”

“I am not.” Simon shoved him gently. Ariella could see the brothers had a friendly sparring relationship, but that they cared for each other deeply. As someone who’d never had a sibling to rib her, she found their closeness touching.

“Ariella came up with the idea for an outdoor concert to raise money and awareness for World Connect.”

“I like.” Henry grinned. “The lawns in front of the Washington Monument would be a great spot.”

“I agree.” Ariella smiled. “No harm in aiming high.”

“Especially when your dad is the president.” Henry winked. “We royals aren’t averse to a little nepotism when the occasion calls for it. It’s how we pass on the throne, after all.”

Ariella’s stomach clenched slightly. Everyone seemed to assume that she had a relationship with her father, when nothing could be further from the truth.

“Uh-oh, here comes trouble.” Henry’s nod made Simon turn.

“Too true. Let’s head it off at the pass.” He turned and led Ariella away from Henry and his gaggle of blushing admirers toward a tall man in baggy tweeds, approaching fast through the knots of glamorous polo-goers.

“Your uncle?” The man’s bushy brows sank low over slitted dark eyes and his cheeks were the florid pink of a smacked behind.

“Good old Uncle Derek. Here to pour gasoline on untroubled waters.”

Derek marched up to Simon and launched into a conversation about the polo team, totally ignoring her. She counted the burst blood vessels in his cheeks and wondered if he intended to simply pretend she didn’t exist.

“Uncle Derek, do hold your fire a moment so I can introduce you to my honored guest, Miss Ariella Winthop. Ariella, this is my mother’s brother, Derek, the Duke of Aylesbury.”

“Just visiting England, are you?” His haughty voice grated on her ears.

“Yes, I’m going back tomorrow.”

“Oh.” He turned back to Simon and launched into a tirade about poor sportsmanship at his shooting club. Simon caught her eye as he nodded and yessed his uncle. Ariella sagged with relief when Derek finally finished his monologue and sauntered off.

“He’s irritating but harmless. I try to ignore him.” Simon’s whispered words in her ear made her giggle. “One thing you learn to do as a royal is present a united front. We don’t need the public to know that behind closed doors sometimes we drive each other insane.”

“Quite understandable.” She admired his ability to play the role he’d been born to. Such responsibility and the strict code of conduct would be too much for a lot of people she knew. It almost invited rebellion and debauchery, but Simon handled his unique life with ease and good humor.

Which only made her adore him more.

There was a brief commotion as one of the players fell off and, unable to support weight on an injured ankle, was helped to a medical tent.

“Simon, we need you!” Two of the other players beckoned from their horses. “Hugh couldn’t come today and Rupert’s still down with the flu so we’re short. You know Dom would be happy for you to ride his horses.”

Simon glanced at Ariella, then back at them. “I can’t, I’m afraid. It would be rude to desert my guest.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” she protested. “I’m sure I can take care of myself for a few minutes.” The game had been going on forever, it seemed. It must be nearly over. “You go ahead.” She knew his side was winning and she didn’t want everyone blaming her if things went south because Simon couldn’t leave her side.

“You’re a brick.” He kissed her cheek softly, which made her gasp and glance around as he jogged off to change.

Great. Now she was adrift in unfamiliar waters. And her glass of Pimm’s was empty, mint leaves clinging limply to the remains of the ice cubes. She decided to go off in search of another, and hope someone scored the winning goal while she was at it.

“Ariella.” A voice startled her as she headed down the side of a marquee. She turned to find Simon’s uncle Derek right behind her. “A word, if you please.”

Actually, I don’t please. But she didn’t dare say it. She paused, still half turned toward the drinks tent.

“Simon’s young and impressionable.” Those frighteningly large salt-and-pepper brows waggled up and down. “Enthusiastic and charming but not terribly bright, I’m afraid.”

Her mouth fell open. “I find him highly intelligent.”

“I’m sure you do.” He swigged from a glass of clear liquid. “A coronet has that effect on women. The fact remains that a dalliance with you could destroy his future.”

“I hardly think that…” She didn’t know what she was about to say but it didn’t matter because Derek blazed ahead.

“We all know what happened the last time a member of the British royal family lost his head over an American. He abandoned his country and his duty in the name of love. Not because he wanted to, but because he knew it was an absolute requirement.” His emphasis on the last two words was underscored with a hiss.

“Why?” Now she was curious to hear his answer.

“Because he knew she could not possibly fit in.”

“I thought it was because the monarch can’t marry a divorcée. For starters, Simon’s not a monarch, or very likely to be one. And second, I’m not divorced.” Her own boldness shocked her. Pimm’s must be powerful stuff.

The monstrous brows shot up. “Times are different now, but not that different. Her Majesty holds very traditional views, and each of her grandchildren has been groomed from birth to follow a specific path. Simon will marry a member of the British nobility, and will raise his children here to be members of the British aristocracy. Lady Sophia Alnwick will be his future wife and the wedding invitations are all but printed. She’d be here with him today if she wasn’t holding vigil at her esteemed father’s deathbed. Within the next day or so she’ll inherit all his lands and wealth and be the richest woman in England.”

Ariella blinked. “I hardly think Simon needs to marry for money or prestige.”

“Those two things are never a negative.” Derek’s beady black gaze chilled her. “You are a…a nobody. The illegitimate daughter of an American upstart who’s clawed his way into a temporary position of power. Don’t delude yourself that you can compete with the thousand-year history of the Alnwick family. Like his brother’s, Simon’s life path has been planned since birth. The estate he lives in, the so-called charity he’s so enamored of, these are all part and parcel of his role. If you get your claws into him and cause him to do something foolish, he’ll lose both of them.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“No? The estate isn’t his. It belongs to Her Majesty. That silly charity is funded almost entirely by the royal coffers. Simon’s role in the family is a job like any other. His employment is contingent on Her Majesty’s largesse, and can be rescinded at any time. Think about that when you kiss him.”