And most were, unless partying. Talking in front of cameras, unless for a scheduled interview or appearance, went against his nature.
“That explains the lack of interesting conversations and romance.” Emily crossed her arms over her chest.
The action brought more attention to her breasts. He took a peek, then raised his gaze to her face.
“Why didn’t you listen to Luc?” Emily asked Brad.
The producer shrugged. “The royalty consultant thought Luc was being difficult.”
Emily’s gaze narrowed in on Brad. “This was the same consultant you fired for incompetence, correct?”
“Yes, but this was before we found out she knew nothing about royals, but was one of Kendra’s BFFs from college.” Brad glanced at his cellphone, not the least bit apologetic. “We’d better figure out a new strategy for his date today.”
See you here at bedtime tomorrow night.
It’s a date.
No one would know about Luc’s exchange with Emily last night. Brad must be talking about something else. “I have a date?”
A satisfied smiled formed on Emily’s lips. “Yes, with Princess Brigitte of the Isle d’Etoile.”
Emily amazed him, and her smile suited her pretty face better than a frown. “How did you set up a date for today when you arrived yesterday?”
“WiFi. I contacted princesses during layovers. I should hear from more soon. I’m hoping to find you a dinner partner.” She motioned to him. “But right now, you need to come with me so we can figure out the best way for you to sweep Princess Brigitte off her feet.”
Luc shook his head. “I know how to romance a woman.”
“How?”
He thought about his most recent dates. None came to mind, only women he’d met at parties or clubs. Most, if not all, had come onto him. Zero had played hard to get. A drink, a compliment, maybe a dance but that didn’t seem to be a deal breaker, and he’d be set for the night.
“So…” Emily said.
Damn. Luc didn’t want to tell her he was the one pursued by women. Nor did he want to lie about not having to go to much effort or romance. “You’ll see when it’s time. Until then, tell me your ideas on how to woo a princess.”
*
Standing on the terrace next to Luc, Emily struggled for something to say. Random ideas swirled through her head like water disappearing down a drain. She’d expected him to tell her how he romanced women, and they would go from there, not have to come up with something from scratch.
Luc looked at her expectedly. “You do have a plan.”
“I always have a plan.” And she would, as soon as she had time to think. She’d never been romanced Reality TV style. Her dating life was more about convenience and companionship than romance. But she’d imagined perfect dates more than once. She would have to do the same here.
“But since this is your date, let’s start with you.”
He drew back. “Me?”
Emily nodded, as ideas became more concrete. “Take me to your favorite place at the villa.”
“I have two.”
She wanted to see both, but there wasn’t time. “Which one would be best for tea?”
His mouth puckered as if he’d eaten a lemon. “Tea is not what I’d call a romantic first date.”
“Anything can be romantic.” She remembered helping Nick surprise Addie on her birthday with dinner on the beach. Not even wind or a bunch of navy trainees running across the sand could spoil the meal. “The right frame of mind and a thought-out setting can make all the difference.”
He gave her a look. “You don’t know what Princess Brigitte is thinking or what kind of date she expects.”
“She suggested tea because she has another obligation tonight and is busy this weekend.”
His brows furrowed. “She told you this?”
“Her secretary did. While you have tea, I’ll be meeting with her to get a crash course in European royalty.”
“Follow me.” He led her down a path in the opposite direction from the kitchen garden. “Why are you leaving on Tuesday?”
“I have a meeting to attend on Wednesday.”
“Reschedule the meeting.”
His regal tone made her feel like one of his minions. “I can’t. The client set the date.” If she signed them, nothing would stand in the way of her promotion. Succeeding with the show would be the icing, rather a bonus in her paycheck. “It’s…important.”
“I need you here.”
His words touched something deep within her. She liked feeling needed, but she’d rather feel like a minion with him.
“Don’t worry.” She climbed down a short staircase. “I’ll have your calendar filled before I leave. Addie is staying. She’s more than capable to handle this. Everything will be fine.”
Up ahead, she saw an old clock tower that looked like something from the Renaissance time period.
Luc walked a little farther, then stopped on a secluded brick patio that was in the clock tower’s shadows and surrounded by bushes and trees. “This is the spot.”
“Lovely.” Roses scented the air and provided splashes of color to all the green. “Perfect, actually. Wes and Conrad can hide with their cameras. That might put Princess Brigitte more at ease. Too bad there’s nothing we can do about the microphone packs. Can’t risk bad audio.”
“You never stop working.”
“Just doing my job.” If she didn’t, she might find herself working on more of these stupid shows in the future. Being a partner meant her boss couldn’t give her these “extra” assignments. “You’d make it easier if you’d talk about the foundation, but I know that’s not a possibility. Yet.”
“We’re not close to that being possible.”
True, but she wasn’t giving up on figuring out how to bring the foundation into the show.
Emily looked around, then closed her eyes.
“What are you doing?” Luc asked.
“Imagining what would make this spot more perfect.” She opened her eyes. “This is a romantic setting, and I want to up that. If we arrange a small round table with two chairs, you can sit close, knee to knee, during tea.”
He stepped closer to her. Heat emanated from his body. “Forced proximity.”
His scent circled her head, making her feel like she’d drunk a mimosa for breakfast, not orange juice. Her mouth went dry. “Close seating sounds less calculating.”
“The entire show is calculated.”
“The reality in Reality TV is a misnomer.”
She expected Luc to move away. Instead he came closer until he stood right next to her. “Calling it Pretend TV would turn off viewers.”
“You’re catching on to how this works,” she said.
“Unfortunately.”
The depths of his blue eyes mesmerized her. Her stomach tingled, as if a butterfly had gotten loose inside and was trying to get out. Being with Luc didn’t feel quite real.
“But I’m game,” he continued. “Let’s go all the way with the romance. I’ll give the princess a bouquet of roses.”
Another idea popped into Emily’s head. “No bouquet. One flower. A perfect red rose from a bud vase on the table.”
“That won’t look calculated?”
“A single rose is still a romantic gesture.”
“You’d like that?”
“Very much so.” Emily imagined Luc handing her a flower. His gaze would be intent upon hers like now. His fingers would brush across her skin. Warmth balled at the center of her chest.
“We should dance.”
Luc’s words brought her back from the daydream. Anticipation spurted through her. “Dance?”
“After tea, I’ll ask the princess to dance.”
The princess, not Emily.
Talk about feeling ridiculous thinking he meant dancing with her. She was here to work, not be romanced by the prince. She needed to tattoo the words on her forehead. Well, in invisible ink that only she could see.
&nbs
p; “Dancing would be very romantic,” she agreed. “Dylan can figure a way to pipe in music.”
“Or we could dance without it.” Luc took Emily in his arms.
She stiffened. “What are you doing?”
“Seeing if there’s enough space to dance.” He moved her around the small patio like they were at the ball in Cinderella.
She tried to remain rigid and in control, to not think about being in his arms or that in her head she heard music and in her heart…
“There’s room to dance.” She stopped, but he continued leading her around the patio. “We can stop now.”
“If I practice, this will feel more natural later.”
“You’re doing fine.”
“Thank you.” He grinned wryly. “Though I hope Princess Brigitte isn’t as tense as you are. Relax.”
Emily had to stay tense. If she let her guard down she might forget this was nothing more than practicing. “The princess might be nervous.”
He gently rubbed Emily’s shoulder blade. “If she is, I’ll do this to help her relax.”
Emily bit back a moan of pleasure. She fought the urge to lean into him. The man had magic fingers.
“Once I feel her loosening up, I’ll compliment her dancing. Tell her she’s light on her feet and moves like a ballerina.”
A lump formed in Emily’s throat. She knew he was making up lines, but he sounded surprisingly sincere. “Those words will make her feel special. Women like feeling that way.”
“I won’t stop there.”
Emily shouldn’t ask, but curiosity got the best of her. “What else will you say?”
“That you’re beautiful.” Strands of her hair sifted through his fingers. “And your golden hair is softer than silk.”
“G-good.” Emily forced the word out. Her voice sounded raw, almost husky. She couldn’t help it, even though he was talking about Princess Brigitte.
“I’ll pull her closer, watching to make sure she’s okay with what I’m doing.” He did, and Emily was. “Then I’ll…”
She reminded herself to breathe. “What?”
Luc stopped dancing. He lowered his mouth, pressing his lips against hers before she had time to turn her head or back away.
Tender. Sweet. Oh, my.
Luc’s lips caressed hers like she was precious and fragile. Surprisingly, unexpectedly…gentle.
She soaked up the taste and feel of him. Warm and male. Luc.
Somewhere a warning sounded, but she ignored it. One kiss wouldn’t change anything.
He pulled her closer, pressed his mouth firmer against hers. The gentleness disappeared, replaced by hunger.
And heat. Oh, wow.
His kiss tantalized and teased. She parted her mouth, hoping he’d take the invitation. He did. Tongues mingled, danced, explored.
She combed her fingers through his hair, the way he had hers. Her insides tightened, a need suddenly growing, wanting…more.
He pulled her even closer, and she arched, pressing against him. So tall, so strong.
A bird chirped. In her imagination or real, she didn’t know. Nor did she care. His kiss was real. That was enough for her.
He moved his lips away from her mouth and showered kisses along her jawline to her ear. She melted into him. Then tingles exploded. Pleasurable sensations cascaded through her.
Oh, yes.
Emily’s control slipped. She wanted more kisses, more Luc…
Oh, no. What was she doing? She was here to find him a bride. Not kiss him herself.
She tore away from him. “Stop.”
“We’re just practicing.”
Maybe he was, but her lips throbbed. Her body burned. The kiss had been real to her. “We’ve practiced enough.”
“Maybe you have, but I’m thinking we might need a dress rehearsal. Sans cameras, of course.” He reached for Emily.
She leaned away so his hand found only air. “You have this down.”
The guy was a master kisser. Experienced. She’d never been kissed so thoroughly in her life. She doubted she’d ever be kissed as well again. Whatever princess landed him would be living a fairy tale.
Too bad, she wasn’t royalty, but she’d seen a genealogy chart. No blueblood on either sides of her family. “If you get Princess Brigitte to the kissing part, you’ll be set.”
“Thanks, perhaps if we keep practicing…”
The way his voice trailed off told Emily he was waiting for her answer. Her lips screamed yes! They wanted more kisses.
A part of Emily did, too. A big part if she were being honest with herself. But that wasn’t the part of her ruled by logic or common sense.
“No, we’re finished kissing.”
Even if her lips wanted more kisses. She had a job to do, one she couldn’t accomplish if she were kissing Luc. And liking his kiss. Make that kisses.
She needed to focus on the show, on her dream of being promoted. “If you’re kissing me that means you’re not kissing any princesses.”
“It was one kiss.”
She deflated like a balloon. Even if she’d told herself the same thing when his lips touched hers. But Luc had redefined the word kiss. “I know that.”
He raised a brow. “Really?”
Cocky ass. Now he’d just ruined the moment. Good, because she couldn’t afford any more moments with him. “Yes, so don’t act all vain. Women don’t like that.”
“What do they like?”
“Men being themselves and honest. Some flowers, dancing, and kisses won’t hurt. Most importantly, make her feel as if she’s the only woman in your world.”
A charming grin spread across his face and reached his eyes. “I can do that.”
Her heart bumped. “Yes, you can.”
And knowing that bugged the hell out of Emily.
*
That afternoon, Luc sat across from Princess Brigitte at the small table Emily had set up complete with linen cloth, china tea service, and a crystal bud vase with one perfect red rose. Romantic, yes. Intimate, however, might be a misnomer. Crowded was a better adjective. If his hands weren’t bumping into the princess, then his knees were. Fortunately Brigitte didn’t seem to mind.
Too bad he wished another woman were sitting across from him instead. Emily had surprised him once again. This time with a kiss that seared his lips and made him want another.
Made him want…
“Each dish has been delightful.” Brigitte stared over the rim of her teacup. “Please pass on my compliments to the chef.”
“I will.” He forced himself to concentrate on the lovely princess. “The chef used recipes from Alvernia for the desserts.”
“Your country is known for its delicious pastries.”
“And yours for its beautiful royal family.”
Brigitte tilted her head in acknowledgement of his compliment. The ends of her long brown hair fell mid-back. Perfectly applied makeup accentuated her features. Her light blue short-sleeved dress was made for an outing such as this. She was exactly the type of wife he was looking for, one that would make a lovely princess bride and please his parents.
So why wasn’t he feeling any sort of attraction? And why did he wish Emily were out here instead of inside the villa with Brigitte’s secretary.
Brigitte glanced around until her gaze came to a rose bush. “This is a lovely spot.”
“One of my favorites at the villa. Though I’d never considered having tea here until today.” He raised his teacup, a silent toast to Emily. “Thank you for joining me.”
Brigitte’s closed mouth, polite-looking smile didn’t tell Luc much. But this date had gone better than any during the past month. Not bad given Emily had been here less than twenty-four hours. But he needed to concentrate on the woman sitting across from him. She could be the solution to his problem—the way for him to remain a member of the royal family and keep his foundation going.
“Your invitation surprised me.” Brigitte seemed relaxed, even though cameras were filming through t
he bushes. Their earlier conversations hadn’t been only about the weather and polo, but growing up royal, attending university, and their love of gelato. “I thought I’d been left off your list.”
Luc had never seen the first list or the new one for that matter. But he remembered what Emily said about making a woman feel special.
He took the rose from the bud vase, dried the water from the stem with his napkin, and handed the flower to Brigitte.
Her lips formed a perfect o, then spread into an open-mouthed smile. Her first during the tea.
“The original list of names was from the former consultant with the show,” he admitted. “I’m sorry for the oversight. I’m fortunate my new list includes you. I’m enjoying our time together.”
Luc spoke the truth. He only wished there was a spark between them, something to make him take Brigitte in his arms, dance with no music playing, and kiss her the way he had with Emily.
Brigitte raised the rose to her nose and sniffed. “Apology accepted. I’m enjoying myself. This is not what I expected.”
“What was that?”
“A Bacchanalian orgy of sorts.”
Emily was right about his reputation. “I hope you’re not disappointed.”
“Perhaps a little.” Amusement twinkled in Brigette’s brown eyes. She stood. “I’m only sorry I can’t stay longer, but I have an engagement tonight.”
Luc rose. “Duty above all else.”
“We do what we must. And sometimes, like this afternoon, that turns out better than expected.”
She must have been forced to come today.
“Thank you for joining me.” He extended his arm to escort her up the path to the villa. This was his chance to ask for a second date. He’d been turned down every time before. “Perhaps you will have time in your busy schedule to visit again.”
She studied him. Not as a princess would, but as a shrewd, calculating lawyer might. “How long do you have until your engagement presentation?”
Not nearly long enough. “Two weeks.”
Brigitte stepped towards him, rose up on her toes, and kissed him on the lips. Unexpected, but pleasant. No burst of heat or fireworks. Maybe next time?
She drew back, then smelled the rose again. “I’d be happy to visit again. Early next week?”
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