Nikki purses her lips and gives me a slight glare. "Donottell me you're going to chicken out. Not after I spent an hour and a half combing through the shelves of Sex Sex Sex, with a creepy old guy following me around the store, I might add."
"No, obviously I'm not going to back out. In fact, I'll probably try themalleventually. But you know, for now, I should just…" I'm about to say play it safe when internally I give myself a smack on the head. Playing it safe when you're with a guy like Will Banks is about the worst move you can make. Imustbe daring and ultra-sexy. "No, you're right, Nikki. I need to do this.”
Without further reflection, I swipe the chocolate and strawberry bra and thong set off of the table.
I laugh a little, feeling a sense of excitement building in my chest. "Oh my God, this is seriouslyultra-daring."
"It is. Youhaveto do it," Nikki says. "Give him a preview of the fun life he's in for."
“Exactly,” I say with a grin. “I'm going to blow his mind."
I hurry into her bathroom to get changed, my heart pounding in my chest. It's not even reallythatbig of a risk when I think about it. I already know the exact minute his plane is going to land. And because he's coming in on a private jet, he doesn't have to go through the regular security queue. I’ll have the limo pull right up in front of his terminal. The whole thing should only take a few minutes and we’ll be on our way back to his place and onto a night of wild, adult fun.
Good God, that is sticky. And the bra is really cold. It’s also clinging to my chest in a most unsettling way. It’s like wearing two tiny squids on your knockers.
Okay, Arabella, never mind how it feels. This is fun and it’s all in the name of love.
I carefully step into the thong, which has an extra-large chocolate heart over the front of my lady parts and the same sticky bright pink gummy strings to hold up the heart. I give myself a quick glance in the mirror and decide to pull my coat on before I lose my nerve. I rush to get all the buttons done up, then take a deep breath and open the door.
When I step out of the limo into the cold night air, a draft blows up my full-length camel hair coat and hits my chocha like a cold slap. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. But it's too late now because I left everything I was wearing, other than my coat and heels, at Nikki's, and Will’s plane is about to land.
I follow Bellford toward the building, spying a revolving door — my favourite type of door. It’s like going on a mini-ride, only it’s not scary and you don’t have to queue up for it. Actually, revolving doors are strictly against royal protocol on account of the infinitesimal chance that someone might jam something in it, thus trapping you, but in this type of situation—a nearly empty airport late in the evening when no one knows I’m coming—I can totally get away with it.
Bellford glances at the door and gives me a nod. I grin excitedly as I step inside the wide moving entrance, smiling a little extra at what a naughty bird I've turned out to be. I definitely chose the right edible undies set. Will is going to be one very happy man in about five minutes when he walks out of the arrivals gate and I whisper to him what’s for dinner.
I set a confident pace to match that of the doors, smiling to myself about what a badass I am when suddenly I hear a rather loud clanging sound. The doors stop moving, but I don’t. Instead, I take another two strides, slamming my face against the glass with an embarrassing bang.
Bellford, who has just reached the inside of the airport through the boring sliding door, draws his pistol and does a quick three-sixty, looking for threats before realizing the sound came from in here. Well, that’s the height of humiliation, isn’t it? A few people in the terminal are now staring curiously.
Okay, door. Let’s get going already.
Huh. It’s not moving. That’s odd. I’ll just give it a little shove. That ought to do it. I place both hands on the glass door and push, but it doesn't budge, so I try again, harder this time.
Then I raise my voice and say, "Bellford! I'm stuck."
"Step away from the glass, Your Highness." He swiftly moves to the glass door on the far side and gives it a shove with one shoulder, but it doesn't move. Then he comes back toward me and tries pushing it backwards. Still nothing.
Shit. Now a fewmorepeople have stopped what they’re doing and are slowly moving in my direction. Well, this is just craptastic because it’s only a matter of time before one of them figures out who I am.
"Don't worry, Miss, I'll have you out of there in no time. Let me just get somebody from maintenance."
It's fine, it's just fine, Arabella,I tell myself, stuffing my hands in my pockets. This’ll just be a couple minutes and then out I’ll come, never to use a revolving door again.
Bellford waves down a security guard who comes rushing over. He then tries to force the door open by hand.
It won't work, numbskull.
The security guard’s eyes narrow as he looks at me, then a look of recognition crosses his face. Through the glass, I hear his muffled voice. "That’s Princess Arabella!”
A little louder, ninny.
Bellford nods at him and says something I can’t hear but can only assume is a request to lower his voice.
Brilliant. A small crowd forms a few feet back from the door. And isn’t that just the thing any girl dressed in only a coat and edible undies needs?
The security guard lifts his walkie-talkie out of his belt and starts speaking into it. “I'm going to need someone from maintenance immediately. Princess Arabella is trapped in the revolving door at gate C3. Who's available?"
I hear a crackling sound, followed by, “C3? Did somebody forget to put the sign up? That thing’s been sticking all day."
