Don't Tell (Don't 1)

He threaded his fingers through mine. “Maybe I should keep a tighter hold. Just in case.” He squeezed my hand and I pressed my lips together to keep from grinning.

“Thank you.”

We walked for another hour. I stayed by Damon’s side, taking in every part of the discussion. I had no idea there was so much detail in growing olives. I had clearly taken them for granted.

We rejoined the caravan.

Ayla greeted me at the giant SUV that we traveled in from the airport. “You may enter the car,” she whispered. “His majesty will take a few photos and wave at the crowd. Alone,” she added.

“Ok.” I climbed into the vehicle.

I watched through the window as Damon signed autographs and posed for pictures with the farmers. There were groups of children in the crowd. It seemed as if everyone from the local villages had gathered for the event.

Ayla sat in the front seat. She turned around, handing me a cold bottle of water.

“Thank you.” I was thirsty.

“How did it go? Did anything happen I should know about?”

I shrugged. Maybe I should let Damon mention my high heel mishap. I didn’t want to upset her. After all, she was the one who chose my accessories.

“I didn’t expect it to be so warm.” I fanned myself.

“Don’t worry. You have several dress options for dinner. You have plenty of time to shower and prepare for the next event.”

“Oh good.” I took a long sip. “What next event?” I thought this was the only scheduled appearance we had.

She smiled. “I can’t go into details.”

“Why not?” She was supposed to be my manager. If there were details, I needed to know.

“I’ll let his majesty explain.” She froze when the car door opened and Damon slipped in.

“Your majesty.” She

nodded and turned to look through the windshield.

He kicked the dust from his shoes. “I think that went well. What about you?”

“Did you get the information you needed?” I asked.

“And then some.” He pulled my hand into his lap. “Thank you. I have what I need to convince the cabinet.”

I grinned. “I’m glad.”

The SUV lurched forward, the tires crunching over dirt and gravel.

“What’s next?” I asked.

He looked at me sideways. I caught a glimmer of playfulness.

“You’ll see.”

23

Damon

Decorum. Rules.