Oh. Oh. Kelsey wriggled up even straighter. Because, even separated from Mallory, she’d had someone in her corner to lean on, at least for a little while. “I’ve got something to tell you.”
“One thing? Are you kidding? I want to be filled in on every moment. On every meal, every glance, every gilded wall sconce you saw.” Mallory reached out to touch the carved post that held up the fringed canopy. And there was considerable awe in her wide eyes. “We’re in a freaking palace, Kelsey. We’re basically living out a Hallmark channel movie. The only thing missing is the tall, dark, titled sexpot ready to kiss you senseless.”
“That’s what I have to tell you.” It was weird to admit. Confusing. Talking it through with Mallory was the only way to get clarity, especially since Kelsey had zero idea of how to reach out to the man himself.
Did she have to wait to talk to him until he showed up for his next protection shift? Was there a code on the bedside phone? Dial 184 for bodyguards, dial 186 for tea and scones?
“You can’t kiss anyone with a title.” Mallory underscored her point with a severe finger wag. “You’re probably related to them. Or at least, for safety, you should assume that until we do the research.”
Ewww. “Pretty sure I’m safe with my bodyguard. Double entendre totally intended, BTW.”
Mallory’s hands flew to her mouth as something close to the squeal of a boiling teapot escaped her lips. “You kissed Elias?”
“Yes.”
“Was he amazing?”
“Yes.” Kelsey traced the outline of a golden peacock in the bedspread. “It started out sweet, and then things got real. Real hot. Scorchingly hot. Then he stopped, said it was wonderful, but a mistake, and practically sprinted away.” She locked eyes with her sister, hoping to read an answer in the flurry of fast blinks. “What the heck is the takeaway supposed to be from that?”
Mallory’s eyebrows had shot up to meet the edges of her mussed bangs as Kelsey’s story progressed. They plummeted back down into a pinched frown. “Let’s unpack this one step at a time. Where did this knee-melting kiss happen?”
It was easy to pull out the memory. Kelsey was certain she’d remember every moment of it for the rest of her life. Not just for the kiss. But for his listening and understanding as well. “Under a flowering trellis in the formal gardens. The air was scented, the birds were trilling. Basically, the most beautiful place possible.”
Fanning her cheeks, Mallory said, “Okay, so hot and romantic. I approve. But as much as I approve…I think it’s dangerous,” she added, slowly drawing out the words.
Her sister’s nervousness—no, skittishness—about the potential to be mugged or burglarized in Manhattan had been annoying, but at least understandable. For Mallory to be pulling the same shtick behind gated walls literally guarded by an infantry was ridiculous.
“You actually think some crazed person who doesn’t even know who I am could get past all the palace security to get the jump on us while I’m kissing my bodyguard?”
“Uh, no. Not at all. But I think it’s dangerous in that he more or less works for you. Or at least your family. So you two getting together puts Elias in a difficult situation, job-wise. Long-term? That could put you in a difficult and dangerous situation, heart-wise.”
Geez. Talk about taking the protective older sister thing to extremes. Yes, in the sixth grade, when Kelsey crushed on Nate Bierson and then he touched her hand when they were on the sidelines during flag football, she’d written Mrs. Kelsey Bierson over and over in her journal. With a heart over the “i,” thank you very much.
But the next day he’d sat with Barbie McCloud at lunch, and she’d used a fat black Sharpie to scratch out the entire journal page.
“We kissed. Once.” She stuck her index finger in Mallory’s face for emphasis. Just the one finger, with the rest folded away. “For three solid minutes of sheer nirvana, but only once. It’s way too early to be worrying about the state of my heart.”
“It is never too early for me to worry about that. Do you remember David Czimenski in the tenth grade? He kissed you, invited you to the backward dance, and then dumped you two hours later when Heidi Marshall asked him out. You were crushed.”
“I was fifteen.” Why were they both suddenly thinking back to their childhood? Was this quick, familiar dip into the past a way of dealing with the fish-out-of-water feeling that being the Alcarsa Palace gave them? And if so, could they maybe dip into memories where Kelsey didn’t come off quite as pathetic? “I think I’ve got a more stable emotional footing now. Dumb things like that are supposed to happen at fifteen.”
“He hurt you. That’s why I TP’d his house.”
Nice to have that mystery solved. Dissolving into giggles, Kelsey fell sideways across Mallory’s lap. “That was you? I thought you told Mom you had nothing to do with that. I mean, his parents called the cops.”
“Which is why I said I didn’t do it. I’m not stupid.” Mallory gave a gentle tug to the ends of Kelsey’s hair. “But your broken heart needed to be avenged.”
Her sister was a badass. Kelsey rolled back onto her semicircle of down pillows. “Thank you. For future reference, I’m good with the two of us just going for mani-pedis, or having a Kahlua-and-cookies night.”
“Duly noted. Now to finish up with your bodyguard. Him walking away was probably one hundred percent about him and his duty. Men like Elias always have hang-ups about duty. And he may not even be allowed to be anything other than your bodyguard.”
“Since I’m his duty, I think that’s at least a little about me.”
With a wry smile, Mallory poked her in the shoulder. “You should talk to him.”
“That’s the same advice you always give.”
“Because it’s always true. Work, family, friends, sex…being open and talking about a problem has a cure rate of about one hundred gajillion percent.”
A knock on the door had Mallory dragging the covers up to Kelsey’s neck. “Come in.”
“You don’t know who it is,” she said in a furious whisper. Because she was far, far from ready for this sister-time to come to an end. “Why did you tell them to come in?”
“Because it’s coffee and croissant-o’clock. Who else would it be but breakfast?”
A short man in a lavender-and-white striped vest with a ruthlessly sculpted goatee hurried across the thick carpet. “Good morning, Miss Wishner. Miss Wishner.”
Kelsey didn’t dare look at her sister. How were they not supposed to giggle at that identical greeting? “Hi. Now that you’ve seen me in my jammies, could I maybe get your name?”