“From what I remember, you aren’t much of a waitress.” I take the tray from her despite her protests, and set it down on the large turquoise trunk she’s using as a coffee table.
“Hey now, that was totally on purpose.” She slaps my hand away as I reach for a cookie. “Those are for your bodyguards. They deserve a treat if they’re stuck standing out there in those suits while you’re lolling around in here.”
“Lolling around?” I repeat, snatching a couple cookies while she’s setting our drinks on the trunk. “I think I’m offended.”
“Oh, please. You don’t really expect me to think His Royal Hotness does any actual work, do you?”
“His Royal Hotness earns his keep in other ways, thank you very much.”
“Oh, I just bet.” She picks up the tray, then heads for the front door. “If you really want to help, you can open this door for me.”
“What do I get if I do?” I tease.
She rolls her eyes. “How about the chance to stay dry?” She brandishes the tray like a weapon.
In the end, I hold the door open for her and then watch, amused, as she charms the hell out of my entire detail. So much for breaking down the door to save me. By the time she’s done wrapping them around her finger, I’m pretty sure they’re ready to start trying to protect her from me.
Not that she needs it. Savvy looks like an Amazon (in the best possible way—à la Lynda Carter’s Wonder Woman), has the quick wit of a late-night talk show host and the sarcasm of a teenager. All of which means she’s pretty well covered in the protection department.
She’s smiling when she comes back in the house. “I like your bodyguards,” she tells me.
“I’m pretty sure
they like you, too. Though I prefer to call them my security detail.”
Savvy rolls her eyes. “I just bet you do.”
As she crosses the room, I lean back in the oversized chair so she’s got plenty of room to sit down with me. Instead, she settles on the sofa across the room and I’m left feeling more than a little disgruntled. I’m really not used to having to work this hard to get a woman interested in me.
“Don’t pout,” she tells me after she takes a long sip of lemonade. “It’s so unbecoming.”
She’s right, it is. I wipe the scowl off my face then do what I should have done all along—I move to sit on the sofa next to her. It’s still in view of the window and surely the lemonade has relaxed the guys a little bit, anyway.
“You didn’t ask me how I found you,” I say once I’m settled.
“Considering you’ve got a three man ‘security detail’ out there because you’re currently first in line for the throne, I’m pretty sure I know how you found me. The question is why?”
“Don’t play games.” Her hair has fallen over one eye and I reach out, sweep it away. I want to see her face when she’s talking to me. “It’s so unbecoming.”
“You’re right, it is.” I’m struck again by how well we fit, even before she reaches for my hand and twines our fingers together. It’s uncanny how many times she’s already given voice to things I’ve only thought. “The truth, Kian, is that I’m not up for this right now. And I don’t think you are, either.”
“Up for what?”
She lifts a brow. “Now who’s playing games?”
“Oh. You mean the whole dating-a-prince thing.”
“I mean the whole dating-a-prince thing, especially one whose twin brother—who also happens to be heir to the crown—has gone missing under suspicion of foul play.”
No matter how many times I hear them—no matter how many times I think them—the words are still a blow. I try to cover it up, but Savvy’s watching me more closely than I thought.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound flippant when I said that.”
“You didn’t.” But I push off the couch, walk over to the far window—the one my detail isn’t currently staring through—and study the huge pots of flowers that decorate her front yard. “Sometimes it’s just more real than others.”
“I bet.” She hesitates for a second. “Is there any word on Garrett? I mean, other than the official statement?”
“No.” I concentrate on opening my hands from where they just curled into fists of their own volition. “I mean, there’s a lot of information that hasn’t been released. But none of it is worth anything. None of it…”