Royally Knocked Up by Pamela DuMond
Chapter 7
Steam billowed up from the hot waters that filled the oversized, white porcelain bathtub. It condensed and dripped off the wall-mounted faucets as well as Nick’s nose. He leaned back against one edge of the tub. I sat opposite him and he massaged my foot. “Do that for five hours, please,” I said.
“I can’t.” He put my right foot back into the water, placing it on his upper thigh, and picked up my left foot. “I can sense the jealousy emanating from these toes. They’re distraught. What is that you’re saying, toes? Oh, yes, I hear you loud and clear. You need love and attention too. Yes, I might only be a prisoner here at the Palace Jailhouse Bar and Grill, but I am serious about providing a full range of services.”
“My other foot thanks you.” I smiled and for the first time in days inhaled deeply. “I rather like the Palace Jailhouse Bar and Grill. The menu looks terrific. Yum!” I felt somewhat stoned, or mesmerized, or both, watching his toned arm muscles flexing, and curving. His firm, bare, wet chest was covered with the perfect amount of black curls. Post hot-sex endorphins swirled around my body like a long line of tipsy wedding guests doing the conga. My shoulders slid down from my ears.
“I was running steps today, darling,” Nick said. “Up and down from the dungeon level to the tower for a few kilometers. I swear I spotted you through a window waving at me from some sort of gathering outside the royal Sauerhausen Prison walls.”
“The ladies and I marched for you. We pounded the pavement, and hoisted signs in the air because we felt you were unlawfully detained. My feet are killing me, I might have plantar fasciitis, but we demanded answers and I finally got one. Cristoph confessed that he signed his own name on our wedding certificate. This is why everyone thinks I’m married to him, not you. But I still don’t understand why they arrested you.”
“I do.” He frowned and dug his thumb into the sensitive spot at the bottom of my big toe.
I flinched. “Sore spot!”
“Sorry, love. That makes two of us. I suspect someone who sucks up to Archbishop Causesdesperdues knew we were having frequent sex, and decided to have me arrested.”
“Arrested for what?”
“Infidelity. Carnal relations with the crown prince’s wife.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“That’s what I thought at first. But then I wondered if the know-it-all Archbishop has something not so holy on his pious plate. I sat in a cell at the Sauerhausen prison for a few days before I was transferred here to the palace for house arrest. I had plenty of time to think.”
“Were they mean to you Nicholas? Cause I’ll beat the crap out of them if they were mean to you. I bet I could get Esmeralda and Joan to help me.”
“No, they were actually very nice. You know, Archbishop Causesdesperdues has never been all that stoked about us being together.”
“I know. Who sends a ‘Sorry-Not-Sorry you’re not married’ telegram to people on their honeymoon? I’ll never get over that.”
“I comforted you for hours after the incident.”
“We had sex three times in the infinity pool overlooking the Caribbean under a full moon.”
“Same thing,” he said. “And yet I pondered why the Archbishop was such an arrogant man—”
“Asshat.”
“—of the cloth. Perhaps he was just one of those snobby clerics who needed to flaunt his beliefs. But then I suspected that the problem might run deeper than that. There is a worship that’s just as old as any world religion. Pre-dates Christianity, sprung up earlier than Judaism. I think Archbishop Causesdesperdues might be a devotee of—”
“Money,” I said.
“Precisely,” Nick said. “The all mighty pence, the time honored dollar, the very shiny, pretty piece of silver or gold. I can’t help but wonder if that man—”
“The asshat.”
“—sold me out to create more havoc in Fredonia. Fuel gossip rags, increase TV news, encourage chaos and mayhem to fester. The interloper, the fraud, the charlatan, Michael Charles Perris of Knottingwood could take advantage, and finagle leverage on our royal house.”
“That totally makes sense.”
“But Archbishop Causesdesperdues tipped his hand when he had me arrested. He should have left well enough alone, and most likely I never would have suspected his involvement in this royal scam. But instead, it’s been a wake-up call. I’m invigorated and even more determined to track him down.”
HRH saluted and slapped my foot resting on Nick’s thigh. I gazed at the determined culprit and smiled. “Hello, you sexy beast. Yes, I believe you.”
“Good.” Nick latched onto my leg and pulled me to him, the water splashing against the sides of the tub.
“You’re going to make a mess—”
“—that we’re both going to remember, my love. I fear you’re in the company of a dangerous prisoner who demands hot, jailhouse sex immediately. I’ve taken you captive and demand to have my wicked ways with you.”
“Aha! That’s a different story, Nicholas—”
“You mean dangerous prisoner.” He lifted me by my waist out of the water and repositioned me on top of him, very very close to HRH. Tingles zipped up and down my spine and detoured south to my girlie parts.
“Yes, dangerous prisoner.” I gazed down at him, biting my lower lip. “Whatever do you want from me, royal bad boy? I’m a married woman, you know.”
He laughed. “Why don’t I surprise you?” He tickled my stomach, kissed my shoulder, and dropped his head lower. The scruff of his beard scraped against my chest, his full lips swiping, his tongue teasing the sensitive parts.
I wondered if his few days in the slammer had made him a tad more lusty? The tub water slapped against the sides and spilled onto the floor. Fifteen minutes later—or was it an hour—I bit his shoulder as he called out my name, and he collapsed on top of me.
“Hot.” I leaned my head against the rim of the tub and fanned my face.
“I’m not going to argue with you.”
I ran my hand over his upper arm, appreciatively. “How is it possible you’ve grown more muscular since the last time I saw you naked?”
“I’ve been incarcerated.” He lifted himself off me, then leant down and kissed me before returning to his reclining position on the opposite side of the tub. “Prisoners work out a lot.”
“You’ve spent the majority of your time watching Netflix.”
“Binging.”
A loud ‘Rap-Rap-Rap’ rattled the bathroom door. “Did you order room service?”
“No. Unlike special guests secretly visiting the Palace Jailhouse Bar and Grill, I don’t get special privileges.”
The door flew open and the two orange kittens tripped over each, meowing and skidding into a puddle on the floor.
“More cute unexpected callers.” Nick dangled one arm out of the tub, twirling a finger at them. The tinier cat minced toward him, squeaking like a plush toy, while the bully hung back, pawing at the water and staring at us with round, blue eyes.
“Nice to see you too, Nicholas.” Esmeralda stepped into the doorway. “Looks like you’re beefing up. Prison has done you a world of good. Pardon the intrusion, but we need to borrow Lucy. If all goes well we shall return her. Chop-chop, Duchess.”
“Not technically a Duchess.” I sank down into the water. “I’ll deal with whatever the issue is tomorrow. I’m staying here with Nicholas.”
“Time waits for no one,” Esmeralda said, “and you’re not an exception. You’ll come with me if you really want to help Nick get out of here. Duke Knottingwood is on the move and we need to shut him down, now.” She reached for a towel from the wall rack and tossed it to me.
“Why do ‘we’ have to shut him down?” I stood, wrapping the fluffy sheet around me, and eased out of the bath. “Shouldn’t that be up to Fredonia Intelligence or at the very least ordered by someone at the highest levels of the royal family?”
“The Royal Timmel family took a vote and selected an independent agency to investigate.” Cristoph poked his head through the doorway into the already crowded water closet.
“Don’t look!” I said, cinching the towel tighter across my boobs.
“I already saw the top half,” Cristoph said. “Unforgettable. Thank you, again.”
Nick’s eyes narrowed. “What’s unforgettable?”
“I can’t recall,” he said. “Archbishop Causesdesperdues cautioned the family against using an outside agency. Said we should keep it in house, and so they compromised.”
“I told you he was shifty,” Nick said, shooting me a look. “Which organization?”
“Ladies in Spying Agency,” Esmeralda said.
I glanced around the bathroom. “Nick, where are my clothes?”
“Foyer, hallway, living area, and bedroom, darling. L.S.A. is on it? Excellent call. I’m happy to help.”
“You can’t,” Cristoph said. “You’re still under palace arrest.”
“Screw that. You need to find a way to get those charges dropped and get me out of here. FYI, I’m not all that comfortable sitting naked in a bath discussing plans like we’re out for fish and chips at a local pub.”
“I must have missed that group outing,” Esmeralda said. “Why do you conduct all the fun stuff without me?”
“I’m working on getting you out of here,” Cristoph said.
“I don’t understand why L.S.A. needs me.” I headed toward the doorway as the bully kitten pounced on my leg, digging his teeny, razor sharp claws into my moist skin. I winced, leaned down, plucked him off me with one hand, and dabbed at the few specks of blood with the other.
“Uh, oh. I see London, I see France,” Esmeralda said, and popped her hand over Cristoph’s eyes. “But you’re not wearing…”
“Hello!” Cristoph said.
“Stop!” I straightened and cradled the kitten, pressing him against the knot on my towel as I scratched his chin.
Nicholas frowned. “Tell me about the investigation.”
“I was recently elected L.S.A.’s Chief Operative,” Esmeralda said. “I get to choose which agents are under my command, and I’m appointing Lucy.”
“You’re CO at the L.S.A.?” Nick asked. “When did this happen?”
“An hour ago,” Cristoph said. “I returned to the meeting just in time to hear Royal Nana resign and pass the baton to Esmeralda.”
“I thought for sure she’d cede command to Duchess Edith. Go forth, find your pants, and put them back on Lucy, because we need to get out of here,” Esmeralda said. “The pantless option is a powerful maneuver but should only be reserved for emergencies.”
“We don’t want to raise more questions out the gate than absolutely necessary,” Cristoph said.
“What did you mean by the ‘Unforgettable’ comment?” Nick asked.