6. Rose

ROSE

The whole time I was sitting in my fancy pants suite waiting to be called in to meet Mary O., I should have been sketching up some ideas to show her. Was I? Nooo.

I was drawing James.

James in his suit, James in a tux, James in a t-shirt and jeans, James wearing nothing.

Can we say obsessed much?

Yes. Yes, we can.

I absolutely could not get the feeling of his lips on my neck out of my mind. I must have touched that exact spot about eleventy billion times in the last hour. It was probably red, and I should put some make up on it before I met Mary O.

Instead, I sat there like a bump on a white velvet log accented with gold inlaid wood and fluffy, furry pillows. And that’s exactly how James found me a few minutes later.

When he knocked, I knew it was him without even seeing him. “Come in.”

He appeared in the door, and it was all I could do to just sit there and smile instead of jumping up and tackling him so I could drag him to my bed and ride him like a cowgirl. Side-saddle of course, because I was a fucking lady, and we were at the castle of a princess.

“Rose.” He said my name in a way that made my lower belly go all wonky and tingly,?his voice way softer and alluring than any man’s should be. “I thought this might brighten up your room a bit.”

He pulled a single blood-red rose from behind his back. It might be cliche, but I loved roses. I was a bit surprised that he was bringing me a flower. We were supposed to be acting all professional with each other. Or at least pretending we were.

A flower, especially a single rose, from a man was the next level of flirting, if you asked me.

And I smacked good girl Rose upside the head and jumped in head over heels first to accept his invitation to the next step on the path to naked times.?”It’s beautiful.”

I crossed to him and took the rose from him, all ready to inhale the familiar and sensual scent. My finger brushed against a thorn, which poked right into me and drew blood. I winced at the sharp sting.

“Ouch.” I instinctively brought my finger to my lips to stop the bleeding, but James caught my wrist in his hand stopping me before I could suck on the wound.

Before I could protest, he gently pulled my hand close to his face, and for one ridiculously hot, and entirely too erotic moment, I thought he was going to put my finger in his own mouth.

I was woman enough to admit that I would have melted into a puddle of needy goo on the floor in a half a second if he had. Sadly, instead, he just examined my injured finger and blew cool air toward the wound. He grabbed a hanky out of his pocket, wrapping it around my finger and making a little red spot on the pristine white material. Who carries around a hanky? Hot British bodyguards, that’s who. The pain seemed to fade away as we both stared at that blooming red.

“There you go, all better,” he said, giving me a reassuring smile and dabbing at the last of the blood.

I couldn’t help but feel a flutter in my stomach as I looked into his eyes. There was something magnetic about him, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. James had gone out of his way to bring me a rose, and that simple act had made me go even more gaga for him than before.

“I... thanks, umm...” Oops. I forgot how to talk because... was he leaning in? He was. Kiss me, kiss me, please, please kiss me for real this time.

His eyes locked on mine, and the intensity in his gaze sent a shiver across my skin, waking up every cell in my body so I could appreciate this kiss from my nose to my toes. His lips brushed against mine, and then he kissed me. The kiss was passionate, consuming, desperate, and it made me breathless and lightheaded. It was as if he was trying to communicate something through it, something he couldn’t quite say out loud. The rest of the world fell away, leaving only James and me, locked in an embrace that I wanted to last forever.

He pulled me into his arms and dropped his lips to my throat once again. Something inside me screamed for him to bite me, to mark me.

Before I even finished that bizarro thought, he broke away and was halfway across the room. His back was to me, and his shoulders were heaving as if he needed to suck in all the air in the room just to keep himself in one piece.

“I shouldn’t have done that. But I won’t say I’m sorry.”

I didn’t even get to respond before he marched out the door and slammed it shut behind him.

Well, how do you like them ripe, round, apples? What the hell just happened? Maybe he’d get into trouble for dallying with me? I was going to find out. Right the fuck now, because no way he was leaving me with blue tubes.

Another knock sounded at my door, followed by the entrance of Mary O., her regal bearing filling the room.

“Rose Abernathy,” she greeted me warmly, her eyes twinkling with kindness. “I hope you don’t mind my intrusion, but I wanted to meet you myself, tonight, before we get started on the dress and all.”

“Of course not.”This was why I was here after all. Not to get up close and personal with a hot bodyguard. “I’m excited to finally get to meet you in person.”

And check out the person who reigned over all this grandness, but who was so mysterious and secretive. Oh, and who needed a whole ass security detail who should have been underwear models, but who were hired to also protect me from some unknown threat.

“Likewise,” she replied, her smile genuine. “How was your trip? I hope James has been taking care of you.”

Uh, she totally said that as if taking care of me was an innuendo for, you know, taking care of me and my lady bits.

“He’s been very professional and helpful.” He had to have run into her out in the hallway. I was not going to be the one to get him in trouble.?This had to be some kind of set up.

“Indeed,” Mary’s gaze went distant for a moment as some special kind of memories seemed to flicker across her face. “But enough about that for now.” She waved a hand dismissively, her smile returning. “I’ll let you get some rest so we can start nice and fresh tomorrow. But not too early, I’m a grump in the morning. Just let my girl know if you need anything, or, of course, James.”

I swear to God, she waggled her eyebrows like she knew exactly what James and I had been up to in here just a few moments before and was encouraging it.

Rich people were so weird.

“Oh, and Rose. I wouldn’t recommend wandering about the castle at night on your own. It’s well known to be haunted. So don’t fret if you hear strange shrieks or sounds. It’s just your friendly neighborhood ghosties.”

I waited until Mary closed the door behind her before looking up at the ceiling and laughing. What in the world had I gotten myself into? Okay, cool, cool. A haunted medieval castle. If that didn’t give me some creative inspiration, I was clearly dead inside.

I opened up my suitcase and rummaged around for the soft but pretty jammies I packed and found them replaced with a dark red satin nightgown. Jorge. That rat.

After brushing my teeth and washing my face, I changed into it anyway, checked under the enormous bed for the previously mentioned ghosts, and crawled into the highest thread-count sheets I’d ever experienced in my life. I didn’t think I was tired, but the next thing I knew, sunlight was streaming in through the window, the scent of coffee was coming all the way through my door where someone was knocking to be let in, and I was groggily coming out of some kind of a weird dream about sparkly vampires who drove James Bond cars.

“My lady,” the staff member who’d showed me to my room yesterday, whose name I absolutely could not remember, poked her head into the room. “I took the liberty of making you a pot of coffee, seeing as you’re American, but if you’d prefer tea, I brought a pot of English Breakfast as well.”

She pushed her way into the room with a breakfast tray and came right over to the bed with it. I pulled the sheet up to my nose, checking real quick before I sat up to make sure this slinky lingerie hadn’t caused any wardrobe mishaps in the night. Nobody needed to see a nipslip.

Except maybe James.

Ack. Stop it, naughty Rose brain.

“Thanks. You didn’t have to do that. I can—”

“Oh, no. Mistress would have my head. Please allow me.”

Okay, then. “I’d love to have the tea. When in Rome and all that.”

She dropped two cubes of sugar and a good splash of milk into a gorgeous teacup and then the hot tea on top. It smelled amazing.

“Here you are. I’ll just lay out your clothes now, shall I? Might I recommend the soft white sweater and the linen trousers for today? You are meeting with the Council of Princesses, and they do love a bit of luxury.

She turned to an old-fashioned wardrobe and opened it. Inside, all my clothes were hanging on wooden hangers, with my socks, underwear, and bras folded and tucked into little shelves up the left-hand side. When in the world had she done that? I could have sworn everything was in my suitcase last night when I’d gotten ready for bed.

“I don’t want to rush you, my lady, but it is almost noon, and Lady Mary will want to get started after luncheon.”

“Noon? Cripes.” I gulped my tea, which I expected to burn my tongue, but it was the perfect temperature, and threw back the covers.

“The sweater and linen pants will be fine. Thanks, uh, I’m so sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.”

“No matter. Please, attend to your morning ablutions. I’ll let Her Royal Highness Mary know you’ll be ready in, say, a half an hour?”

“Yep, fine, good. Thirty minutes.” I shut the door and hopped into the shower for the fastest rinse off in my life. Wouldn’t do to be stinky when meeting... did she say the Council of Princesses? I hope they didn’t expect me to curtsy and call them Your Highness, or Your Grace, or whatever. I may be a bit of a history buff, but I did not know royal rules of etiquette and the American in me kind of didn’t want to. Silly little rebels that we were.

In precisely thirty minutes, lovely lady maid person whose name I still didn’t know, came back to fetch me. I was ready with sketchbook in hand. I was not prepared for a room full of gorgeous, grand women to all squeal at the same time upon my entry.

Mary clapped her hands, and everyone quieted down. She came over and threaded her arm through mine and led me through a lavish drawing room adorned with gilded mirrors and fancy tapestries. We sat down on a chaise lounge with only room for us to sit amongst all its pillows. “Come, let’s get to know each other better. We have so much to discuss and so little time.”

“Of course. I’m ready and excited.” That delicious bit of adrenaline from my reality TV show days flittered into my blood. Six days to create a kickass dress for her party. Let’s do this.

“Allow me to introduce you to the Council of Princesses, or so we like to refer to ourselves. These are my dearest friends, some of whom I’ve known for ages, just ages.” Mary said as she motioned around at the women. Seated at a long, elegantly set table were several women of varying ages, their eyes bright with curiosity as they turned to regard me. “That’s Margaret, Caroline, Louisa, Maud, Diana...”

She said several more names, and they all sort of mashed together. I wasn’t going to remember any of them. I’d have to ask staff lady to make me a cheat sheet, including her own name on it.

“So, this the infamous Rose, in the flesh?” asked one woman, her voice lilting with amusement.

“Indeed, it is,”Mary squeezed my arm tighter in a way that felt kind of territorial. “Ladies, this is the talented designer who will be creating my gown for the upcoming celebration.”

A murmurof approval rippled through the room as each woman stared at me, their expressions intrigued yet welcoming. As their eyes fell upon me, I felt the weight of their scrutiny, and I couldn’t help but wonder what they saw in me to garner such interest. Maybe they were fans of the show?

“Tell us,”another woman chimed in, her blue eyes focused on me intently. “How did you like James? He is quite fit, don’t you think?”

“Di,be good, or I won’t let her design for you next.” Mary wagged her finger at the blonde.

Di folded her arms and pouted, but she had a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“We have much work to do, and little time to do it. Shall we get started?”

“Of course,” I agreed, my excitement bubbling up inside me once more. With their encouragement, I quickly delved into a flurry of sketches and fabric swatches, my fingers dancing over silks, laces, and frills as I envisioned the perfect gown for Mary.

As I worked,I couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by the sheer opulence surrounding me. From the priceless antiques to the sumptuous fabrics, the castle was a testament to wealth and luxury. Yet, oddly enough, despite my newish entry into the world of rich women who like couture dresses, I’d never heard of these women. Perhaps there were just a lot of people descended from royalty over here that just went about their daily business without being splashed across the papers like the Windsors tended to be.

As we finalized the ideas for the design, a crew of men brought in a couple of sewing machines, two surgers, a cutting table, several dress forms, which I noted were all plus-size, and bolts and bolts of fabric. A few of the women excused themselves, but several stayed and started unpacking the gear I’d be needing to make the dress.

“Oh, you don’t need to do that. I can handle it all once we’ve finished.” There was way more than I’d need here to make one dress.

“Didn’t Mary mention? Several of us would like to stay and play. We’ll make dresses to compliment what you’ve designed for Mary.” The woman, who I think was called Margaret, smiled at me as she set up one of the sewing machines with a spool of white thread.

“Oops. Sorry, Rose. I hope that’s okay.” Mary wrinkled up her nose like a child who’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar but knew she wouldn’t get in trouble for it. “We don’t get to have visitors like you all that often. This is a bit of a treat for us.”

I noticed that the women who stayed were the ones who were on the plumper side, like me. Like I was going to say no to women who probably had just as hard a time finding beautiful clothes that fit like the rest of us plus size gals and had turned to making their own? No, I was not.

Never did I think I would feel like I related to a room full of women whose haircuts probably cost more than my car. But in that moment, I suddenly felt like I’d just found my tribe.

“I love a busy sewing room. Bring it on.” I met the eyes of each and every one of them to let them know I was sincere. “But I have one small question, and you’ll laugh at me for not knowing, but who are you all?”

“Ah, that is a question many have asked,” one woman replied with a mysterious smile. “We are simply friends who share a common bond, nothing more.”

“Though our pastsmay be intertwined in ways most unexpected,” another added cryptically, her eyes flickering to the portraits lining the walls.

Glancing around the room,I noticed for the first time the eerie resemblances between the women seated before me and the regal figures depicted in the artwork hanging on the walls. It was uncanny, almost as if they were living, breathing doppelg?ngers of long-dead British royalty.

“Ancestors, perhaps?”I nodded toward the portraits, unable to shake the sense of déjà vu that suddenly gripped me. “You’re all distant relatives or something?”

“Perhaps,”the first woman echoed, her lips curled into a knowing smile. “Or perhaps there is more to our story than meets the eye.”

“Indeed,”Mary agreed, her gaze thoughtful as she studied my sketches. “But now is not the time for such discussions. We have much to accomplish, and the clock is ticking. Somebody call for tea, will you?”

I couldn’t denythe thrill of belonging that surged through me as I lost myself in the creative process, surrounded by these enigmatic women who had welcomed me into their fold.

When the clock struck midnight,Mary O. declared us done for the day and weirdly insisted that she escort me back to my room. When we got to my door, I expected her to say something along the lines of splendid work or that was fun.

But she said the strangest thing to me.?”Don’t let fear stand in the way of your happiness, Rose. I know I did.”

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