Page 8
He shifted on his feet and gave her an annoyed glance. “Yes, Princess? We don’t have all day.”
“I have to go to the ladies’ room,” she said primly, refusing to show how much his disrespectful tone unnerved her. Back home, no one ever showed her any impatience or anger. Ever. “To powder my nose before dinner.”
He snorted and motioned her forward. “Yeah, sure you do. Let’s go, then.”
She blinked at him, unable to believe how ordinary he treated her. As if she were a commoner or a friend of his. When she didn’t move fast enough, he placed his hand at the small of her back and gave her a gentle push forward. She stumbled along, letting him guide her down the hallway once more.
“You do realize I’m actually a princess, right?” she asked over her shoulder. “In my country, the people treat me with respect and kindness. They don’t push me.”
“Then walk faster. Because in my country?” He opened the bathroom door for her, glancing inside to make sure it was empty. His gaze dipped low again. When he looked up at her, his eyes were darker than before. She hadn’t even realized that was possible. “We give respect when it’s earned. Not because it’s a right. Now go pee quickly…Princess.”
With that, he pushed her inside gently—again—and closed the door in her face.
Unbelievable.
Chapter Three
A couple of hours later, Gordon dragged his hand through his hair and followed Princess Isabelle out of the restaurant. He’d watched her all night, since it was his job to do so, and she confused him. The woman he’d met in the coffee shop and the dark hallway had seemed so down to earth. She’d held his hand, and he’d sworn he felt an attraction between the two of them building up.
She’d been refreshingly normal.
Then the lights had come on in the restaurant, and she’d turned into this haughty princess version of the woman. She’d become someone whom he’d never look at twice, under any other circumstances. But instead of shrugging it off and moving on, he couldn’t let it go. There had been an undeniable attraction between them before she’d changed.
He knew it.
She knew it, too, he’d bet.
Earlier, paparazzi had been spotted hanging around the back entrance. Her team had left that way to throw them off her scent, and she was currently hurrying across the foyer so the two of them could leave unnoticed…elegantly, of course.
Rushing past her, he opened the door for her. She shot him a quick look, her bright green eyes meeting his, but then she looked away. She was still gorgeous, even though she’d gone all princess-mode on him. Her long blonde hair shined like diamonds on tiny silk strands, and she had tiny dimples in her cheeks when she smiled.
Royal dimples.
Everything about her, from her head to her toes, screamed of elegance and composure. She was so damn put together, he’d bet she didn’t even sweat or cry out when she came in bed. Hell, she probably didn’t even come at all.
Way too undignified for royalty.
She walked through the door, brushing against his chest as she did so. He stiffened, a fist of need punching through him. Something had burned between them in that dark hallway, when he hadn’t known who she was, and now there was no stopping it.
It was there.
Had she known it was him? She should have. There had been no fake accent to throw her off. She stopped in the foyer, blinking outside. “Um…”
“Yeah?” He followed her gaze. It still poured outside. When she didn’t move, but instead toyed with the hem of her dress, he raised a brow. “Is there a problem, Princess?”
She shot him a look that told him to shove his nickname for her up his ass—regally, of course. “It’s raining.”
No shit, Sherlock, he said in his head.
He barely stopped himself from saying it out loud. She was a princess, after all. He was supposed to treat her with respect. “Yes. Yes, it is. Quite the astute observation,” he said drily.
Her eyes narrowed on him. “I don’t have an umbrella.”
“Ah,” he said, looking outside. “Princesses don’t run in the rain, huh?”
“No. We don’t run at all,” she said, meeting his eyes. “Unless it’s on a treadmill in a private gym.”
He stared at her. He’d been mostly teasing her with that comment, but damn if that wasn’t actually her problem. She didn’t want to look undignified. “Wow.”
“I have to go to the ladies’ room,” she said primly, refusing to show how much his disrespectful tone unnerved her. Back home, no one ever showed her any impatience or anger. Ever. “To powder my nose before dinner.”
He snorted and motioned her forward. “Yeah, sure you do. Let’s go, then.”
She blinked at him, unable to believe how ordinary he treated her. As if she were a commoner or a friend of his. When she didn’t move fast enough, he placed his hand at the small of her back and gave her a gentle push forward. She stumbled along, letting him guide her down the hallway once more.
“You do realize I’m actually a princess, right?” she asked over her shoulder. “In my country, the people treat me with respect and kindness. They don’t push me.”
“Then walk faster. Because in my country?” He opened the bathroom door for her, glancing inside to make sure it was empty. His gaze dipped low again. When he looked up at her, his eyes were darker than before. She hadn’t even realized that was possible. “We give respect when it’s earned. Not because it’s a right. Now go pee quickly…Princess.”
With that, he pushed her inside gently—again—and closed the door in her face.
Unbelievable.
Chapter Three
A couple of hours later, Gordon dragged his hand through his hair and followed Princess Isabelle out of the restaurant. He’d watched her all night, since it was his job to do so, and she confused him. The woman he’d met in the coffee shop and the dark hallway had seemed so down to earth. She’d held his hand, and he’d sworn he felt an attraction between the two of them building up.
She’d been refreshingly normal.
Then the lights had come on in the restaurant, and she’d turned into this haughty princess version of the woman. She’d become someone whom he’d never look at twice, under any other circumstances. But instead of shrugging it off and moving on, he couldn’t let it go. There had been an undeniable attraction between them before she’d changed.
He knew it.
She knew it, too, he’d bet.
Earlier, paparazzi had been spotted hanging around the back entrance. Her team had left that way to throw them off her scent, and she was currently hurrying across the foyer so the two of them could leave unnoticed…elegantly, of course.
Rushing past her, he opened the door for her. She shot him a quick look, her bright green eyes meeting his, but then she looked away. She was still gorgeous, even though she’d gone all princess-mode on him. Her long blonde hair shined like diamonds on tiny silk strands, and she had tiny dimples in her cheeks when she smiled.
Royal dimples.
Everything about her, from her head to her toes, screamed of elegance and composure. She was so damn put together, he’d bet she didn’t even sweat or cry out when she came in bed. Hell, she probably didn’t even come at all.
Way too undignified for royalty.
She walked through the door, brushing against his chest as she did so. He stiffened, a fist of need punching through him. Something had burned between them in that dark hallway, when he hadn’t known who she was, and now there was no stopping it.
It was there.
Had she known it was him? She should have. There had been no fake accent to throw her off. She stopped in the foyer, blinking outside. “Um…”
“Yeah?” He followed her gaze. It still poured outside. When she didn’t move, but instead toyed with the hem of her dress, he raised a brow. “Is there a problem, Princess?”
She shot him a look that told him to shove his nickname for her up his ass—regally, of course. “It’s raining.”
No shit, Sherlock, he said in his head.
He barely stopped himself from saying it out loud. She was a princess, after all. He was supposed to treat her with respect. “Yes. Yes, it is. Quite the astute observation,” he said drily.
Her eyes narrowed on him. “I don’t have an umbrella.”
“Ah,” he said, looking outside. “Princesses don’t run in the rain, huh?”
“No. We don’t run at all,” she said, meeting his eyes. “Unless it’s on a treadmill in a private gym.”
He stared at her. He’d been mostly teasing her with that comment, but damn if that wasn’t actually her problem. She didn’t want to look undignified. “Wow.”
Table of Contents
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