Chapter 18
Knock, knock. I rapped on the door to Adelaide’s suite with my right hand as I balanced a heavy silver tray in my left.
“Just a moment!” she called, her voice faint. A few seconds later, I heard her feet gently padding across the floor before the door opened. “Oliver! Hi, what are you doing here?”
She was wrapped in a fluffy white robe tied tightly around her waist. Her hair hung in damp tendrils around her face, which looked as though it had been freshly moisturized. On her feet were comfortable-looking pale pink slippers.
She had rarely looked so beautiful.
I cleared my throat, suddenly nervous. I should have texted her that I was coming.
“Hi, sorry, I know it’s a little late. But the wedding planner mentioned to me last week that we would need to pick a cake flavor soon, so I asked her to have the bakery box things up so we could do a taste test here.
The samples arrived earlier today, but I thought some late-night cake would be more fun than making a whole ordeal of it when everyone was around.
” The words tumbled out of my mouth at warp speed.
Adelaide grinned. “You had me at cake,” she said, opening the door wider to let me in.
“Are you sure? We can do it tomorrow if it’s too late.”
“Ollie, it’s fine. I just took a bath and was getting ready to read for a while, but I think I can fit you and your offering of cake into my very busy evening schedule.” She winked over her shoulder as she led me to the loveseat in her sitting room.
I placed the tray on the coffee table, removing the cover and setting it aside before I took a seat next to her. The aroma of lavender bubble bath clung to her skin, and it took everything in me not to bury my face in her neck and inhale deeply.
Adelaide’s eyes widened as she tucked her feet underneath her and surveyed the array of cake and filling samples before us. “They put all of this together for us?” she asked incredulously.
I nodded. I didn’t tell her that the bakery had sent the samples over in a box and that I had been the one to transfer them to the tray, along with a handful of forks, two bottles of water, two glasses of milk, and two napkins.
I knew the kitchen would have done it if I had asked, but I wanted to do it myself. I loved doing things for Adelaide.
It had been a few weeks since we danced together at the Eros Festival.
Even though those around us would not have noticed a difference, I had felt her soften toward me since that night.
She smiled more freely when we were alone together and initiated more physical contact—brushing her hand along my arm as she told a story or letting her knee rest against my own when we watched movies together with Rosie, little touches that sent my heart soaring.
I foolishly hoped that she would agree to marry me for real after all of this was over, even if it wasn’t in June. But, if nothing else, I was starting to believe that a true friendship might be in our future either way.
I pulled a notecard out of my pocket. “All right, here’s what we’ve got,” I said, reading off the flavors as I pointed to each one on the tray.
“For the cakes: classic white, carrot, coconut, lemon, red velvet, and chocolate—which they assured me is extra rich. For the frostings and fillings, we have: vanilla buttercream, raspberry buttercream, chocolate ganache, cream cheese, lemon curd, pineapple curd, and whipped cream frosting. They said we can mix and match in whatever combination we like.”
“An embarrassment of riches,” Adelaide whispered delightedly as she reached for a fork and napkin.
We both dug in, pairing bites of cake with different fillings and frostings.
“Mmm, that carrot cake is amazing,” Adelaide said as she swallowed a bite of the moist cake with a dollop of cream cheese frosting.
“But it definitely has pineapple in it and Dad is allergic, so that and the pineapple curd are both out.”
I shot her a fleeting glance, wondering if she would correct her mistake—this was all for show and the wedding wasn’t really happening, after all, so we could choose whatever we wanted—but she didn’t. She continued eating, practically levitating with glee.
“Is this what heaven is like?” she asked, turning to me and stopping with her fork halfway to her mouth when she saw me holding back my laughter. “What?”
“You’re fucking adorable, is all. I had no idea some cake samples would make you so happy. If I had known, I would have arranged for a cake tasting every week,” I answered, chuckling as I reached forward to wipe a spot of frosting from her lip.
She shrugged. “I’m a simple woman, okay?”
I snorted. “Hardly.”
She gave me a playful shove against my shoulder before returning her attention to the tray. She cut off a piece of the chocolate cake and took a bite, her eyes rolling back in her head. “Oliver, this. This is the one. Holy shit! You have to try this.”
Scooping up another bite of the cake, she topped it with a bit of the raspberry buttercream and brought the fork to my mouth. I took the bite and chewed, my eyes never leaving hers.
She was right. It was rich and tender and chocolatey, and the slightly tart raspberry frosting complemented it perfectly. “Okay, you’re right, that’s a damn good cake. I’ll let Skylar know tomorrow that this is the one.”
Adelaide took another bite and settled back against the couch. “It’s a shame that cake will never actually happen. It would be worth getting married just for that.”
My heart leaped. Cool it, Oliver. Be cool.
Shadow chirruped as he jumped up to snuggle between us. I turned to face Adelaide, scratching the cat behind his ears.
“I wanted to chat with you about the second leg of the tour next week,” I said, changing the subject.
“Oh?”
The following week was set to kick off the next stage of our coronation tour with a whirlwind lineup of visits to several of our ally countries. Most of the visits would last only a couple of days, just enough time to meet with each country’s leaders and attend a state dinner.
“One of my friends from prep school is Anton Bernard. He plays for Real Madrid,” I started.
Adelaide laughed. “I might not be a Sporty Spice, but even I know who Anton Bernard is, Ollie. I think he might be the most famous Wexstonian after…well, you.”
I held my hands up in a placating gesture.
“All right, all right, I didn’t want to assume!
” I chuckled. “Anyway, he heard that we are going to be in Madrid and invited us to their home game against Bayern Munich. It’s the evening after our dinner with the prime minister and his wife.
I know it’s at the end of the tour, and we’ll be tired from all the travel and probably ready to get home, but—”
“Yes. I think that sounds great.”
“Really?” I had hoped she would say yes, but didn’t think it would particularly interest her. I was excited to see my old friend, though, and always loved a good football match.
“Of course. I know how much you enjoy the game, and it’ll be nice for you to see a friend play.”
I suppressed a grin at the way she had nearly read my mind.
“Thank you. I’ll call Anton tomorrow and get it arranged.
” I stood, replacing the lid on the tray and gathering it up.
“I should run this back down to the kitchen and get to bed. I’m sure your book is calling to you, anyway. ” I smirked toward Adelaide’s bedroom.
She grinned sheepishly. “Guilty as charged.”
“Is now a good time to admit to you that I’ve never actually been to a football match?” Adelaide whispered to me as we entered the hospitality suite at Santiago Bernabéu Stadium.
I chuckled, snaking my arm around her waist as I leaned close to her ear. “Well, I’m excited to help you through your first time,” I said with a wink.
She rolled her eyes, playfully pushing me away. “You’re the worst.”
I threw my head back in laughter. Adelaide and I were both in great spirits today despite having been on the road for over a week.
All our meetings and dinners had gone smoothly, Mother Nature had smiled on us with good weather, and we’d even had a chance to do some sight seeing.
We of course had to stop into every independent bookstore we saw and had great fun exploring a handful of antique shops, museums, and botanical gardens.
This morning, we had spent a few hours visiting the Prado Museum and the Royal Botanic Garden, laughing together over a text from Rosie detailing how Shadow had managed to steal several bites of her breakfast when she wasn’t watching, before enjoying the requisite siesta and getting ready for the game.
Adelaide had even let me hold her hand while we viewed Goya’s Black Paintings, silent as we took in the haunting intensity of the works.
It had been easy to nearly forget that we weren’t a “real” couple and to pretend that this was what our future could be together.
Now, as we took in the view of the field, I tried not to burst with pride over how stunning she was.
Anton had sent us matching home shirts with his name and number—eight—on the back.
Adelaide had paired hers with dark jeans that hugged her ass perfectly, black heeled boots, and a set of gold bangles and matching gold earrings.
She managed to look casual and elegant all at the same time.
“Ollie!” I heard an accented voice call, turning to see Anton’s wife Carmen entering the suite with their five-year-old daughter beside her and a chubby-cheeked, dark-haired baby girl on her hip.
She swept toward us, her mahogany hair flowing in waves down her back, and stood on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on each of my cheeks before turning to Adelaide.
“And this must be the incomparable Adelaide!” she gushed, leaning to kiss her cheeks as well.
“Carmen, it is so good to see you again. And yes, this is my fiancée, Adelaide Levy.”