Page 11 of Royal Pain

“They’re leaving in a few days! I’ll probably never see him again after tonight.”

“What?! You’re going out with him tonight?”

“He’s taking me to dinner. And no, I’m not telling you where.”

With one final glance in the mirror, I grab my clutch and walk back into the living room.

“There’s such contrast between the royal’s Plaza suite and this closet of an apartment.”

My musings are interrupted by the sound of the doorbell.

“Got to go. He’s here.”

“You definitely need to hook up with him, Belinda. When will you get another opportunity?”

“You’re crazy! Goodbye!”

I disconnect and my stomach does a half-gainer dive.Get it together!

There’s a rap on the door. Knock. Knock. Knock.

I swing the door open. “You had me at the doorbell,” I chuckle.

“I wasn’t sure I heard any ring.”

God almighty! I didn’t think it was possible for him to look any better than he did this afternoon. I was so wrong. This man wears the hell out of a black suit.

“You look beautiful, Belinda. Exceptionally beautiful,” he says, walking a few steps inside.

“Thank you. I was just going for chic.” I smile.

“Let me look at your place,” he says, perusing the space, or lack thereof.

Suddenly I’m aware of every flaw in my design and tastes. Never have I doubted myself in this area, or really cared if someone liked my apartment or not. Tonight it’s a different story. He’s so put together, his clothes and jewelry, that I’m self-conscious.

My lap blanket looks a bit worn. And I didn’t get to dusting this week. Fuck me.

“The place is nothing special. I’m really not a woman who’s obsessed with feathering her nest.”

A lovely smile lifts from the corner of his mouth.

“I’ve never heard that phrase. Feathering her nest. It paints a picture, doesn’t it?”

I chuckle at my own words.

“No, I like this room,” Zan says. “It looks like you.”

“Artless and plain?”

“No. Classic and without artifice.”

He gets me. Who knew that would happen?

“That was a lovely thing to say.”

Turning to face me, he gently wraps his arms around my waist. I’ve no objection. His beautiful eyes lock on mine.

“Shall we start here?”

I may be in a coma because no words are forming. He takes that as a yes and leans in until our lips are almost touching. The sweetness of his breath on me feels like it’s giving me life.

“Kiss me, Belinda.”

Then his lips are on mine. Tender, soft, saying so much more than I ever heard before. And the earth shifts on its axis. I’m in serious trouble. The kind any woman would love being in.