Page 88 of American Royalty

“Let’s see what the instructions say.” He reached for the laminated, printed sheet next to him.

Dani peered over his arm. “There’s a proper ingredient list! And it says to preheat the oven to 220 degrees. These aren’t the typical instructions!”

“You think I’d leave that to chance? Clearly, the horror you left in my kitchen affected me more than it did you.”

“With these instructions, we can totally do it. Scones, here we come.”

“Your tongue is marvelously talented with a lot of things, including butchering English terms. It’s scones.”

“That’s what I said.”

“No, you said ‘scone,’ rhymes with ‘bone,’” he said, giving his American accent a try. “It’s ‘scone,’ rhymes with ‘gone.’”

He’d barely gotten the last word out when a dusting of flour landed on his chest. He shouldn’t have been shocked, considering the bathtub incident, but he was.

He lifted his gaze to her grinning face. “You didn’t just—”

More flour landed.

When her hand went for the bag again, he moved quickly and snagged her around the waist, carrying her away from the flour. Her delighted shriek was loud in his ear, but he didn’t care. He tossed her over his shoulder, swatting her backside in the process.

“Put me down!”

“No.”

“Jay!”

Melody popped her head back in. “Ummm, I just wanted to remind you that the clock is still running. You now have fifty-four minutes.”

If the queen could see him now.

His Royal Highness Prince Jameson engaged in a food fight!

In public!

But she’s not here. And you’ve been careful.

He had been. He’d tasked his staff with replicating the set of the show and made sure Melody Lucas signed a nondisclosure agreement. He was allowed to have some fun!

He hurried back to their station and put her down.

“You’re going to pay for that later,” he said, his eyes narrowing.

“Oh, I hope so,” she said, tossing a grin over her shoulder. “Now stop playing around. We have scones,” she said, with the proper British pronunciation, “to prepare.”

LATER THAT AFTERNOON,Dani set the basket of baked pastries on the kitchen counter in the main house. “That was crazy fun. So thoughtful. And caring. I can’t believe you re-created the show! No one has ever done anything like that for me before.”

He stood next to her. “I find that hard to believe. I’m sure your past boyfriends showered you with gifts.”

“They did.”

He didn’t like the acidic feeling blazing in his chest. “For example?”

“Cruises on private yachts, trips to glamorous destinations around the world—I dated an NBA player who rented out his arena for the night so we could have dinner and he could give me a private shooting lesson.”

Unclench your jaw, Jameson. You shouldn’t be surprised.

He wasn’t. She was a beautiful, exciting, and accomplished woman. Many men would do whatever was necessary to be with her. He couldn’t expect his little gestures to send her heart soaring.