A Royal Mess and Her Knight To Remember

don’t think-’

“You’ll have to strip.”

“Excuse me?”

“I brought this new breast cream for all of us. It’ll give us great cleavage with our dresses.”

“Lissa,” she laughed, but no one else joined her. “This is a really bad idea.”

Lissa, stirring the cream she actually thought Annie would put on her breasts, looked up. “What? Why?”

“Because…” Quick, Annie, think. “Because…”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Lissa’s smile fell. “At home in Grunberg you probably have beauticians to take care of you. You’d never have to actually do this yourself. I…didn’t think…other than I know our moms used to do this together, in boarding school. You know, give each other facials and do their hair and stuff. My mom talks about it all the time.”

With the loss of her mother twelve years before, Annie’s life had taken a drastic turn. There had been no more froufrou influence, no more pots of makeup and perfume lining her mother’s room. Back then, Annie had already developed the tomboy side of herself, but without her mom, there’d been no stopping her. And she’d never looked back.

Lissa studied the cream in her hands. “I just thought for old times’ sake…” She started to gather up the things she’d bought. “Never mind. I didn’t mean to insult you. This all probably seems tacky to a princess, doesn’t it?”

Annie sighed inwardly and managed a smile in Lissa’s dejected direction. “You didn’t insult me. Really. I just didn’t expect-”

“I know. Forget it.”

“No, this is your wedding,” Annie said, feeling about an inch tall. “And whatever you want, goes.” God help me. “If you want to slather sh-stuff all over your face-”

“And breasts,” Lissa’s youngest sister Sharise added helpfully.

“And breasts,” Annie said bravely, suppressing a shudder. “Then okay. That’s what we’ll do.”

“Oh, Annie. Really?”

Annie looked into Lissa’s hopeful face and made herself keep smiling, even as she renewed her vow to kill her sister Natalia at the first opportunity. “Really.”

“You first?” Lissa held up the cream.

“Uh…” Annie tried not to shrink back. She did manage, barely, to keep her hands at her sides rather than cover her breasts, which is what she wanted to do. “Well…”

“Do you want me to do it?”

“No!” Annie lowered her voice and let out a little laugh. “I can do it, thanks.”

“You sure? My mom says your mom loved to be fussed over.”

Her mother had loved being fussed over. A manicure or new hairdo had been her greatest joys, which she’d loved to share with her daughters.

They had all spent many an afternoon together, Annie’s sisters and their mother, lounging in their castle home after school, waxing poetic over some new nail color they’d discovered, while Annie had chomped at the bit to get back outside and mess herself up all over again.

She lifted the cream with a hopeful expression.

Mom, I hope you’re laughing in heaven. “I’ve got it handled, thanks.”

8

A GIRLIE PARTY was every bit as bad as Annie feared it would be. Which is how she found herself with curlers in her hair-so tight to her scalp she’d never need a face-lift-her entire face slathered in a mud-colored mask guaranteed to “pull out all those nasty wrinkles you haven’t yet developed,” and her nails painted the most atrocious color of pink that Lissa promised would match her new dress.

Goodie.

But all of it paled in comparison to the sensation of ice-cold cream applied to her breasts with the promise to “uplift and rejuvenate.”

“Not that you need any rejuvenating,” Lissa said cheerfully after the equally torturous removal of said cold cream. “You have great breasts.”

“Um…thanks. I think.”

“No, really.”

Annie covered herself back up with the spaghetti-strap tank top and wondered if Kyle had thought so, too. Then she got mad at herself for wondering such a stupid thing and switched to wondering how long before she could kick everyone out of her room without insulting them.

Then someone knocked at the door.

“Grand Central Station,” she muttered, and hopped off the bed, passing by a mirror and nearly leaping out of her skin at the sight of her curlers and mask. Please let someone have screwed up and sent room service up with ice cream.

With fudge to pour over the top.

Beneath her top, her breasts brushed against the soft material. They felt the promised revitalization, and were extremely sensitive. She wondered if Kyle would notice when she once again put on the dress from hell the day after tomorrow. Then she wondered why she cared what he thought.

She would have laughed at herself, but it’d crack the face mask, and if she cracked it, she was afraid Lissa would insist she start over.

If she had to start over with this beauty regime, she might go postal. And since weddings were supposed to be happy events, she took a deep breath and sucked it up.

Not that it was easy. For all her self-proclaimed inner strength, she felt a little fragile. A little vulnerable. The events with Jimmy had taken their toll, no matter how she told herself it shouldn’t. “Sucking it up,” she reminded herself. With a sigh, she hauled open the door, prepared to kiss the feet of the room-service attendant bearing ice cream.

But the person standing on the other side of the door was not room service bearing ice cream.

Kyle stood there holding up the doorjamb with his broad shoulder, looking big and edgy and even yummier than she remembered.

“That’s twice now,” he said.

She was just stunned enough to repeat him. “Twice?”

“That I’ve made you speechless.” He tapped her nose. “I have to say, I’m fairly speechless myself, Princess.”

She gasped and brought her hands up to her face, remembering she looked like the Bride of Frankenstein. “Oh my God.”

“Kyle?” Lissa came up behind Annie. “Honey, what are you doing here? This is girls only. Now scat. We’ve got facials and manicures and breast treatments going on.”

Kyle stopped short. “Breast treatments?”

“Yes, they enhance and smooth,” Lissa’s sister cheerfully told him. “We’ve all been creamed.” Her hands went to the buttons of her blouse. “Want to see-”

“No,” Annie said quickly, stepping in front of her. “I’m sure Kyle here can use his imagination.”

“Yeah. My imagination.” Kyle was looking a little unfocused. A little dazed.

Until his eyes met hers. “How about you, Annie? Want to show me what you’ve creamed?”

“Very funny. Now get the hell out of here.”

“You sound a little hostile there. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you didn’t want me to stick around-Hey!”

She’d put her hands on his chest and pushed. Big mistake. Not the push, but her hands on his chest. First of all, she didn’t budge his solid mass. Second of all, her entire body quivered in delight at the feel of him beneath her hands.

Pathetic. She really was. “Just get out.”