“Probably Amelia Hart. That’s where I know there are the most room,” he answered, then glance at her teasingly. “Why? Do you need a post room for your highness?” But that wasn’t where she was going to get a room. No one got the nice apartments or dorms unless they paid.
“Yes, and while I’m at it, why don’t we stop off for some caviar and have my butler deliver my thousand dollar Persian cat to my door?” Brows raised in an equally teasing manner and a small smile formed to match. “Right, I think—” Pushing the picks into the pocket on the front of her guitar case, she moved to zip up her suitcase. “—I am done.”
