Page 64 of American Royalty

“So? How would you have me handle it? Give him my actual number? Give him a fake number? Tell him no and embarrass him in front of you? I won’t show up. Big deal. I’m just one of thousands of girls on this campus.”

Nothing about her was like anyone else, but he didn’t plan on telling her that.

“Just steer clear of that part of campus and you should be fine.”

“Not a problem.”

“Anything else?”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“Yes.”

A smile teased her lips. “Do you tutor athletes?”

“What?” She scrambled his brain.

“The guy who was in here when we showed up.”

“That wasn’t a student. That was a friend. Professor Rhys Barnes.”

“If I knew college professors looked like you two, I might have attended.”

“You didn’t go?”

“School wasn’t my thing. I needed to be a success immediately. College was going to take too long.”

Needed not wanted. Interesting.

Her nail scraped the arm of her chair. “I guess you were expected to go to college.”

“Not traditionally. In the past, we were expected to begin royal duties after school. But I’ve always wanted to pursue higher education. I’m sure my grandmother thought I’d do my four years and be done with it. She never expected me to stay.”

Her laughter jolted his pulse. “It’s so weird to hear you refer to the queen of England by something as normal as ‘grandmother.’”

“It’s weird that I’m more comfortable thinking of her as the queen of England and not as my grandmother.”

When her brow furrowed and her smile dimmed slightly, he realized he’d revealed too much.

“I chose a different path, one that allowed me to follow my passions. And for that forbearance I have my mother and my grandfather to thank.”

“Prince John. You must’ve been extremely close. Are you looking forward to the celebration?” she asked, her gaze open and curious, indicating she was genuinely interested in his response.

But he wasn’t ready to share. Even if he found himself enjoying their conversation.

“We all are,” he answered, noncommittally. He toyed with a stack of books on his desk. “Is there anything else? I do have some exams I need to grade before I leave.”

“Yeah.” She put her feet up. “What are you and Professor Thor doing tonight?”

The Norse god of lightning? A pretty apt description of Rhys.

“We have to attend a faculty get-together.”

“A get-together? Like a party?” she asked, her hybridized British pronunciation appearing again.

As a natural-born Brit and a member of the royal family, he couldn’t encourage the use of that accent. It wasn’t right.

He stared at her.