Page 35 of A Royal Mistake

“Eww. Christian and I grew up together,” she said, curling her legs beneath her on the couch. Henry’s gaze flicked to her bare legs, lingering for a long moment before they returned to her face. “I’ve known him forever. Having dinner with him was like being on a date with my cousin.”

Henry laughed, a deep, full-bellied laugh that revealed his dimples and crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“It’s not funny,” she said, poking him in the arm playfully. During their bike ride, she’d discovered his back and abs were rock solid. She mentally added his biceps to the list of drool worthy body parts.

Who knew digging wells in developing countries did a body good?

“Okay, so there’s no future with Delacroix.” He captured her wrist in his calloused hand and held it in place between them.

Heat raced up her arm, warming her chest, and for a moment, she was at a loss for words.

Henry didn’t touch her often, but when he did? It was like the entire world paused. Hell, maybe the entire universe. She tried not to think of the almost-kiss-that-wasn’t, but in moments like this, when he was touching her, it was impossible.

Her skin was hot and tight, as if a lit match had been pressed to her flesh. Her heart hammered in her chest, beating a wild rhythm she’d never felt before. She felt…alive.

Damn her overly vigilant security.

If she’d just been able to experience that one kiss, she would’ve been able to put it behind her and focus on the mission at hand. Which was getting rid of the suitors and launching Stanley International, not snogging Henry. Even if he was completely snog-worthy.

“Right,” she said, voice thick.Bugger all.Was that desire?She swallowed and licked her lips, striving for casual when she spoke again. “There’s no future with Christian. Even if he wasn’t practically my third cousin, he doesn’t take me seriously.”

“Why do you say that?”

Shame curled low in her belly, and she immediately wished she hadn’t brought it up. Henry was one of the few people in her life who didn’t treat her like some useless crown jewel. The last thing she wanted to do was remind him of her inexperience. “It’s nothing. Really.”

Henry’s gaze softened, and he released her wrist. “If it’s bothering you, it’s not nothing. Talk to me, Pippa.”

He sounded so sincere, the words just tumbled out. “Christian thinks I’m overreaching with Stanley International. That I won’t be able to handle it. The pompous arse actually said my first duty is to my husband and my country, not a bunch of strangers overseas. Can you believe that?”

She hadn’t realized how much Christian’s insensitive comments bothered her until she was repeating them.

Henry shook his head in disgust, and when he spoke, his eyes were hard. “Those sentiments? They have nothing to do with you or your capabilities. They’re the shortsighted opinions of a man born with too much privilege and not enough heart.” He reached over and took her hands in his, enveloping her in his warmth. “They’re a reflection of him, not you.”

Oh, how she wanted to believe that, but she had a lifetime of evidence to suggest otherwise.

Hell, with her shitty track record, was it any wonder her family—and Christian—had doubts about Stanley International? Really, it was a wonder Henry believed in her.

Then again, he didn’t know her history.

Would it matter if he did?

No. She knew deep down that nothing would change his mind. It was silly, really. They hardly knew one another, but when he looked at her like he was looking at her now, as if she could do anything she set her mind to? It was like he saw past the titles and tiaras to the person she wanted to be, and there was nothing she wouldn’t do to prove him right.

* * *

“Pippa,”he said, squeezing her hands gently. They were soft and well-manicured, the complete opposite of his own, but they were by no means small and weak. They were capable hands, and getting more so every day.

If only she could see it.

He wanted to throttle that Arschloch Delacroix for making Pippa doubt herself.

She gave a slow blink and shook her head, as if shaking off the negativity. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders and his fingers itched to sweep the long golden locks off her face.

“You’re right.” She pulled free of his grip and smoothed her tiny skirt over her thighs.Christ. It was so fucking short he was having a hard time keeping his eyes off her legs and on her face. “What would Christian know about running a startup, anyway?”

“Exactly.” He rubbed the back of his neck, desperate to relieve the restless energy coursing through his veins. “Running a hotel empire is nothing like running an NGO.”

Good thing, too, because the evenings spent working with Pippa were quickly becoming his favorite part of the day.