The-Sinful-King-By-Claire-Contreras-PDF

“Ten minutes.” I laughed, for real this time. “You
actually expect me to wear this get-up for ten minutes?”
“I don’t expect you to. The prince does.”
“He wasn’t wearing a tuxedo at the pub.”
“He hadn’t changed yet,” Pierre said. “Which . . . there’s
another thing I need to . . . ask you?”
“You sound confused about the asking.”
“He needs somewhere to change before he goes back in
there to make his grand entrance and I thought maybe it
would be a good idea for him to come here.”
“Here?”
“Well, he would have gone to one of our quarters to do so,
but yours is the closest house to his, so it would make more
sense. Thinking of it from a security standpoint.”
“A security standpoint. Right.” I took a deep breath. “I
guess he can come here. I have two spare bedrooms with
bathrooms.”
“Would you, um . . . ” Pierre licked his lips. “Would you
mind giving me a key so he can let himself in? In case you’re
busy.”
I glanced away and looked out the window, toward the
party that was definitely happening. From here, I could make
out someone in the garden, and she was wearing a similar
dress to the one in my hand, so I knew this was real. I
exhaled, walking over to the kitchen, grabbing the spare key,
and handing it to Pierre.
“He gives it back tonight.”
“You have my word.”
With that, he left and I went to my room and locked the
door. If Prince Elias was going to be in my house, my room
would be o -limits. We called them villas, but they were
more like miniature mansions in the guise of cute beach
villas. The rooms were bigger than my one-bedroom
apartment in North Carolina had been, with large sitting