Free Tangled Up in Princes (Royal Romances Book 1) by Molly Jameson Page A

accustomed to designer fashions. I don't think a hand knit sweater would be up to your standards."
    "I see, you aren't up to the job."
    "I beg your pardon? I'll have you know I knit this sweater myself."
    He reached across the table to rub the fabric between his fingers. And, yes, he copped a feel while he was at it.
    "Very nice."
    "Anyway, I own a knitting shop in Kentucky. That's about all there is to know. I work a lot."
    "No ex-husband?"
    "Nope."
    "But there is an ex-fiancée. Clearly, he is an absolute imbecile. What is his name?"
    "His name? Kevin."
    "If I'm going to have the SIS dispose of him, I need a surname."
    "Don't bother. He's not worth killing. He's a nice enough guy, just not for me."
    "Why is that?"
    She blushed again before answering.
    "There was no sizzle."
    "Ah, yes,” Edward said.
    He reached across the table to stroke his thumb over her cheek.
    He continued, "Lack of sizzle, that isn't a problem you and I have."
    "Not at all."
    "Speaking of sizzle, this rooftop is certainly quaint, but I could do with a bit more privacy right now."
    He stood and pulled her to her feet. She ran her hands up his chest. She tiptoed to kiss him, and his world shrank to nothing beyond the feel of her.
    "I like the way you think."
    "Come along."
    He couldn't get her back to her room fast enough. Someone called to him as he opened the rooftop door.
    "Oi, Edward! Who's your girlfriend?"
    He turned toward the speaker. A mistake--he knew better. The camera flash nearly blinded him. He ducked his head and put a hand over his eyes.
    "Inside, hurry," he said to Carrie, "Go down the same way we came up."
    Carrie paused. She must have been having trouble seeing too.
    "Okay. I found it."
    She pulled him along into the secret passage. They hadn't made it far when they heard footsteps trailing behind.
    "Bloody hell, they're following."
    He urged Carrie to move faster. They ran, down flights of stairs, past corridors, and through spots so narrow he had to turn sideways to pass through.
    "Which way?" she said, tension in her voice.
    "This way."
    He could see again, though barely. He pulled her down what he hoped was the passage to her room. Their pursuers followed as well, but they were falling behind.
    He dragged her down another corridor.
    "Which room? I don't remember which room is mine."
    Neither did he. A wall of doorways, light spilling from beneath each, stretched in both directions. They didn't have time to go back and count doors. The footsteps were getting closer. More than one person chased them. Maybe even more than two people.
    "This one. I think."
    "Are you sure?"
    "Not at all, but if I'm wrong, I'll apologize profusely on behalf of the crown. It should be fine."
    He found the finger holds and pushed open the door. What they saw inside was anything but fine and something that couldn't be remedied by a simple apology.
     
    ***
     
    The light in the room contrasting with the nearly pitch black corridor had Carrie blinking and seeing spots. She hoped, God did she hope, that what she'd thought she'd seen had been some bizarre trick of the light. Please don't let that have been real!
    "Carrie! What are you doing in my room?" Amanda demanded.
    It had been real then, what she'd seen. It was like Amanda to claim to be the injured party no matter the circumstances. Carrie clung to Edward for support.
    "That isn't, please tell me that--with her, it's not-" she stammered.
    "I'm afraid so, love."
    With a deep breath that had no chance of calming her, Carrie opened her eyes to look at first Amanda, then at Jamie--the pair of them being naked in bed together.
    Jamie, at least, had the decency to look embarrassed. He gave her a shy smile. Even though she could wring his neck just now, she couldn't deny that the man was damn near adorable.
    "Do not grin at me," she said, channeling Grandma MacCallum, complete with admonishing finger, "You ought to be ashamed of yourself."
    "We didn't," Jamie stammered, "Not yet. I mean, we haven't, not what