Princess in Denim
“I can do whatever I want.William bent down, grasped Chloe's chair with one hand and gently righted it by the table. "Please, Moira, sit down."As mad as she was, she remembered how gentle his hands had been on her after she'd fallen. Feeling betrayed, she folded her arms across her chest and held her ground, unsure whether to be madder at King Albert or King William.I'm a princess. I can do whatever I want."We will discuss this," he said softly, as if she were a naughty child.William won—she was... madder at him. All that acting as if he liked her, cared for her. He'd given her a fancy Andalusian mare, for heaven's sake. What was that? A bribe?"Calmly, rationally.""I'm a princess."He grinned. "Yes, I know." He eased the chair in behind her legs until she sat, then scooted both her and the chair up to the table as if she weighed no more than a young child.When she looked down, it was clear that the servants had been busy while she was ranting. The soiled tablecloth had been draped and covered with fresh white napkins.MoreLess
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