Page 102 of Heavy Crown

Stella opted to place Simone down the hall and around the corner from my bedroom suite. The logical choice would have been across from my room, but since that’s the room Rory used when she first arrived, we seemed to agree Simone couldn’t go there. No discussion needed.

Stella is positioned outside the guest-room door, ready for an introduction and to make herself of service to my guest.

Simone peeks in. “This is the room closest to His Royal Highness?”

“No,” Stella admits. “The other is due for a renovation. I thought you’d be more comfortable in this one.”

Simone nods. “It’s lovely.”

Kane appears behind us wheeling her two suitcases. “Where would you like these, Your Highness?”

“In the back corner,” Simone says, pointing to the farthest space in the room. She turns to me. “Is there somewhere we can speak privately?”

“Of course,” I say, but inside I’m grimacing. This is not a conversation I’m looking forward to, but it’s best to get the awkwardness out in the open. She’s not dancing around what I’ve been doing, and I respect that. I lead her along the corridor and around the corner to my bedroom suite.

The room is massive, with a king-size bed, sitting area, fireplace, giant walk-in closet, and an en suite that’s bigger than many bedrooms. There’s even a small corner dedicated to drinks—alcoholic or caffeinated. The one blessing to my heartbreak is that Rory has never been in here. Everywhere else but here.

“Would you like a drink?” I ask as I stride over to make myself a coffee.

“No, thank you. It’s too early for alcohol, and I don’t indulge in caffeine.”

I let out a chuckle which rings false to my ears. “I indulge quite a bit.”

“So I hear.”

Maybe not quite as direct as I was hoping. Does she expect me to bring up Rory? She’ll be waiting a long time.

She wanders around the room while coffee trickles into my cup from the pod machine.

“Desmond seems quite good at his job,” she says.

“He is. Yes.” Can’t disagree with that comment. He’s been rescuing me from myself for weeks.

Her deep breath is audible.

Here we go.

“I’ve been trying to work out whether she was your last hurrah or if I need to be more concerned. Hearing rumors through my staff hasn’t been an ideal start.” She whirls on me and pins me with her stare. “So tell me, Alex. Am I arriving to the wedding on your arm tomorrow or are we tearing up the marriage contract? There’s still time to back out, even if you wouldn’t respond to my emails this week.”

“I apologize that my communication skills were lacking this week.”

“Lacking?” Her tone is brimming with scorn. “Non-existent. At one point, I wondered whether I was actually marrying Desmond.”

Desmond has a wife, but I suspect that comment would fall flat. “From now on, you’ll have my full and undivided attention.” I take my coffee from the machine and turn to face her.

“Full and undivided?” Her gaze narrows. “A last hurrah, then?”

“As far as I’m concerned, if you will allow it, today is a clean slate. A fresh start.”

She runs a hand through her long dark hair. “Is it over?”

“It’s over.” I manage to say it with conviction, but inside a protest mounts. The words are bitter on my tongue. The truth—that my heart might never let Rory go—isn’t one I can admit.

She approaches the corner where I’m standing, and she surveys the layout of beverages.

“Vodka?” I suggest. God knows I could easily get drunk right now.

Her red lips tip up, and she glances at me. “Close. Water.”