“Yes. We can’t have the bird coming back to find its home destroyed.”
Something like ice was hammering in his veins. He hadn’t expected her compassion. Not for a bird.
“That’s bird life.”
“Well, not on our watch.”
“If you say so, Princess.”
A frown tugged at her lips and he was saddened by it. “Why do you do that?” She asked, latching her eyes to his.
“Do what?”
“Call me Princess, as though you mean to say something far worse?”
Now it was Will’s turn to frown. He stood, wiping his hands on his pants. “I hate to state the obvious, generally, but aren’t you a princess?”
She nodded, biting down on her lower lip and turning away from him. “But when you say it …”
“I mean to remind us both,” he said more sharply than he’d intended. “Now, do you think you can manage to turn on the taps in the kitchen?”
She nodded, wondering at the strange feeling of failure that was spreading through her. “Of course I can turn a tap on.”
He watched her glide across the cabin. Was she afraid? Worried? He’d taken her straight out of her luxuriously comfortable existence and brought her to the ends of civilization, and still she looked fit for a sit down tete a tete with the Queen of England.
“Hmm. Will?” She called, her smile embarrassed. “Maybe I spoke too soon.”
He reached down and put a couple of logs into the grate, then sauntered towards her.
“I turned it,” she was saying, leaning forwards and twisting the tap once more.
“Lilah, it might be–,” But his warning came a moment too late, as sludgy grey water began to spurt and groan out of the taps. It was iced water, probably only an hour or so from having frozen over completely. She made a squawk of surprise as she lurched away from the sink.
But too late.
She was covered. She turned to him in surprise. “Did you do that on purpose? Did you know that was going to happen?”
“Of course not,” he denied, his words genuine. Lilah believed him.
“Though now that you mention it,” he said ruefully, “I should have warned you that the pipes would be close to frozen.”
“Most people would have known that for themselves. Don’t blame yourself.” She looked down at her suit and began to laugh. “Fortunately, my cleaners will be able to repair this once I return to the palace.”
Cleaners. Palace. Couture suits. It was all a very different world, and one he had no interest in having closer associations with than this article made necessary.
“You should go get changed.”
“Yes. I brought clothes in your bag.”
He nodded towards the door; he’d brought what little things they had when he’d come in earlier. That included the groceries from Harry’s. “There’s a bathroom through there,” he nodded towards the doorway she’d seen earlier. “Though it’s hardly luxurious. Why don’t you freshen up and I’ll fix us something to eat.”
Lilah nodded. “Great.”
Despite the ravaged state of her outfit, she walked with elegant poise towards the bag and crouched down neatly to unzip it. She laughed softly as she pulled the first dress she laid her hands on from beside his laptop. It was one of her favourites: a black jersey with long sleeves and a bell skirt. She usually teamed it with a vintage Harry Winston choker and a pair of bejeweled pumps.
“You could have told me how unsuitable my clothes were.”
“You wouldn’t have had time to buy anything else,” he assured her. “You’ll be fine.”