I laugh. “You’re full of gifts, aren’t you?”
She shrugs, a little self-conscious but still playful. “Only the best ones, obviously.”
“You know,” she says. “Shame, I’m so terribly in love with George, because if we were really a couple, this would be so marvelously romantic. Scares and scones in the morning, followed by an afternoon of royal history and lovely sunshine. It’s perfect first date material.”
“George doesn’t deserve you.”
She grins slyly. “Of course, he doesn’t, but he’s got my love anyway.”
We take a short break from our wandering to watch the Changing of the Guard. Pippa leans against the rail, clearly fascinated by the precision and the ceremony. I feel an odd warmth seeing her so engaged.
Afterwards, we wander into the surrounding gardens, where smaller, manicured lawns and flower beds line the paths. The sun is low in the sky, the golden light reflecting off the palace walls. Pippa twirls once, letting her top catch the breeze, and I can’t help the lust that electrifies my whole body.
“Ok,” she says, stopping near a flowerbed, her hands on her hips. “Time for some more get-to-know-you questions. Book or movie?”
I grin. “Book. Always a book.”
“Of course,” she says, rolling her eyes playfully. “That one was too easy. Winter or summer?”
“Summer.”
“Same, but they need to move Christmas up because it’s my favorite holiday. Dogs or cats?”
“Gun to my head, dogs, but I like both.”
She laughs, the sound so bright I nearly forget I’m not allowed to pull her into my arms and kiss her. I glance at her and see her catching me looking at her. The lust must have shown because she raises an eyebrow.
“What?” she asks.
“Nothing,” I say quickly, though my lips twitch. “I’m just … enjoying the view.”
She obviously catches the double meaning, but she doesn’t call me out. Instead, she grabs my arm, tugging me along as we continue exploring the grounds.
By the time we leave Buckingham Palace, I realize two things. One, Pippa is fun, smart, and impossibly charming. Two, this fake date is starting to be more real than any of the real dates I’ve had in the past. The laughter, the playful banter, the little touches and glances, they feel totally authentic. And I’m being pulled deeper and deeper into a swirling storm of desire for her.
As we step back toward the street, she flags down a cab. “Are you ready for our next stop?” she asks, smiling.
I smile back. “Lead the way, Your Majesty.”
She laughs, and I can’t help thinking that whatever the next stop is, it’s going to be just as unforgettable as the last one. Not because of the beauty or the history, but because of her. Because she’ll be there with me.
Chapter Twelve
Rhett
The cab drops us off near the London Eye. The sun is beginning to dip down toward its golden hour, casting a soft yellow light across the Thames, and the enormous wheel spins gracefully against the blue sky. Pippa is beside me, practically vibrating with excitement.
“Wow,” she breathes, stepping out of the cab and stretching her arms out in front of herself, and cracking her knuckles. “Look at that. I’ve only ever seen it from a distance. This is insane.”
“You’ve never been on it?” I ask curiously.
Pippa shrugs one shoulder. “It’s tourist stuff. Who does tourist stuff in their hometown?”
“Fair point. But it is impressive,” I agree, my eyes flicking to hers for a second. Her enthusiasm is infectious, her smile lighting up her whole face. I catch myself grinning back.
“The views from the top are going to be something else,” she enthuses.
“No doubt,” I drawl.
