Page 10 of A Royal Mistake
“I’m not— It’s not—” Flames heated her cheeks as she scrambled to her feet and shoved the parchment envelope in the pocket of her sundress. His gaze slid over her, slow and deliberate, as if he were memorizing every inch of exposed skin.
Pippa shivered in anticipation. She’d never felt a true lover’s caress, but she imagined it might feel like this, her skin hot and tight everywhere his gaze lingered. She sucked in a steadying breath, combing her memory for her carefully practiced speech, which seemed to have evacuated her brain.
Bloody hell. This was not how she’d imagined their meeting. At. All.
“Careful, Your Highness.” He folded his arms over his chest and leaned casually against the doorjamb, ankles crossed. “A lesser man might get the wrong idea. Me? I figure we should get the introductions out of the way before we get to know one another intimately.”
“I know who you are,” she blurted out.Bollocks. That sounded like a desperate plea. Surprise flickered across his face, but she rushed on before he could stop her. “Herr von der Recke.”
Heinrich’s features relaxed, and there was a teasing lilt to his words when he spoke. “Have you been asking around about me? I thought you weren’t interested in, what did you call them, self-important arses?”
Time to eat crow.
She cleared her throat, swallowing the giant lump that was most likely the last of her pride. “Yes, well, it’s come to my attention that perhaps I was a bit hasty in my assessment of you and your… intentions.”
“Was that supposed to be an apology?” He quirked a brow, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Because I have to tell you, princess, it was pretty weak as apologies go.”
She ground her molars. The arse was going to make her say it.
“I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions about your purpose here at the palace.”
He stared at her, unflinching.
Seriously? He hadn’t exactly been Miss Manners himself.
Oh, hell. What choice did she have? “And for being so inhospitable when we first met. I admit, you caught me on a bad day.” She smiled sweetly, knowing she’d have to pour on the charm if she wanted his help. “If you’ve got a few minutes, I’ve got a proposition I’d like to discuss.”
“A proposition?” He chuckled and the low rumble vibrated across her skin. “Well, when you put it like that, princess, how can I refuse?”
He stepped back from the door and gestured for her to enter.
She hesitated. This was what she wanted, but it wouldn’t work if he didn’t take her seriously. And right now, he seemed to think she was a damn joke, just like the rest of the world.
A partnership can only succeed if both parties are on equal footing.
“Stop calling me that.”
“Princess?” He smirked, clearly taking perverse pleasure from her irritation. “Is that not your title?”
“My name is Pippa, and I am more than just a bloody title.” She lifted her chin and sauntered past him into the suite. “And drop the innuendos already. If you’re trying to make me uncomfortable,” she said, glancing back over her shoulder, “it won’t work.”
That was a bald-faced lie. He made her uncomfortable as hell. And not just because his thinly veiled innuendos were yet another reminder of her inexperience.
Pippa quickly scanned the cozy sitting room, which was decorated in rich shades of emerald and gold. Floor-to-ceiling windows lined the far wall, illuminating every corner of the room and providing an aerial view of the queen’s rose garden, which was in full bloom. A handful of comfortable-looking chairs and a velvet settee had been arranged around a gilded occasional table.
She chose the straight-backed Louis XV chair nearest the windows, because no way in hell would she curl up on the settee with Heinrich. It would be impossible to think with him crowding her on the tiny two-seater. She crossed her ankles and folded her hands in her lap as Sarah discreetly took up a post by the door.
Heinrich joined them, and just as she’d predicted, he took a seat on the settee, crossing his long legs and casually draping an arm over the back. “I’ll tell you what, Pippa, I’ll stop calling you princess if you call me Henry.”
She gave a silent victory cheer. “Very well, Henry.”
“Now, what is this proposal you wanted to discuss?”
Where to start? She’d learned of Henry’s identity—and his role at von der Recke International—from Liam, who’d invited him to the palace to discuss a partnership between the Royal Foundation of Valeria and VDRI. She’d been surprised when Liam approached her, suggesting Henry might provide some much-needed counsel, but he was right. If she was going to strike out on her own, she needed all the help she could get.
And who better than Henry to advise her? According to the VDRI website, he’d started the organization—the one she’d spent her gap year volunteering with—at the ripe old age of twenty, and now, less than a decade later, it was known the world over. He’d taken his dream and made it a reality.
With any luck, he could help her do the same.