Grayson turned to find out what he’d done this time. “Yes.”
The butler stood there. His face was void of emotion. Grayson couldn’t help but wonder how many years it’d taken the man to perfect that serious look. Grayson didn’t think he could mask his emotions all day, every day. It definitely took skills that he didn’t possess.
“Lady Annabelle requested that you wait here for her. She will be here momentarily.”
“You mean the table, it’s for us?”
The man nodded and then withdrew back behind the palace walls.
Grayson wasn’t sure what to make of this scene. He moved to the wall at the edge of the patio. He stared off at the peaceful water while a gentle breeze rushed over his skin. This whole thing felt like a dream, but it wasn’t.
He turned back to the table. It was most definitely real. What exactly did Annabelle have in mind for this evening? It was obvious he hadn’t scared her off with that meltdown in the car. But how was that possible? Was she used to people freaking out when the paparazzi were in hot pursuit?
“Grayson, there you are,” Annabelle crossed the patio to where he stood next to the wall. “Listen, I’m so sorry about earlier. But no worries, I took care of it.”
“You took care of it?” He sent her a puzzled look.
“The press. I gave them a statement. I’m sorry that I had to out us.”
Out them? His gaze moved from her to the candlelit table with the rosebud and the stemware. What exactly did she want to happen this evening?
He cleared his throat. “You told them about us?” His voice dropped an octave. “What exactly did you tell them?”
Her eyes widened. “Not that.”
He breathed a little easier. Sure, the kiss wasn’t anything scandalous. Far from it. But he didn’t need any more sparks fanning the flames with the media. He had enough rumors following him about and not only did they conjure up horrific memories for him, but they also put his board on edge as it reflected poorly on the leadership of the company.
“Then I don’t understand,” Grayson said. “Why did you talk to them?”
“So they would leave us alone. I told them we are in negotiations over the South Shore property.”
“Oh.” That was so much better than anything that had crossed his mind.
“I know that it was presumptive, so I made it clear that no deal has been reached and that we are still in the negotiating stage.”
He nodded. “I understand. Did they go away?”
“Actually, they did. They seemed disappointed that it was all about business. Can you believe that? This is a huge deal for Mirraccino. I thought they’d be excited and asking for an exclusive, but nothing.”
Grayson’s mouth drew upward at the corners. “I think they were hoping for some romance and the promise of a royal wedding.”
She shook her head. “That’s not happening. Besides, my cousin just got married a couple of years ago. They don’t need another wedding already. I have other things on my mind right now.”
“You mean dealing with your father?”
She nodded. “But I don’t want to talk about that now. I’m hungry.”
He thought of what he’d discovered about the note, but he decided it could wait for a bit. Some food did sound good. He glanced over at the candlelit table and wondered if Annabelle was hungry for food...or was she hoping for more kisses?
* * *
Dinner was amazing.
Annabelle hated to see the evening end. This was the most enjoyment she’d had in a long time. Grayson had opened up more about his childhood in Ohio. She wasn’t surprised to find out that his IQ was genius level and that he’d grown bored of school. Her heart had gone out to him when she learned that his parents had done nothing to nurture his special gift.
With the dinner dishes cleared, every bit of crème brûlée devoured and the hour growing late, they headed inside. She noticed Grayson had grown quiet. Perhaps he was just tired. They had had a long day. Or perhaps he was still rattled by the paparazzi and the chase back to the palace.
Annabelle had made a point of avoiding the topic during dinner, not wanting to ruin the meal. But perhaps it would be best to clear the air.
“Grayson, about earlier at the university, I’m sorry. I hadn’t considered that the press would show up. I know I should have, but I was distracted.”
“It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have let it bother me.”
It did a whole lot more than bother him. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Grayson’s gaze didn’t quite meet hers. He shook his head.
“I understand.” She didn’t. Not really. “Have you decided what you’ll do about tomorrow?”
This time he did look directly at her with puzzlement reflected in his eyes. “What about tomorrow?”
“You’re supposed to leave. But I was hoping after the visit to the university that I’d convince you to stay and give the South Shore and Mirraccino more consideration. Of course, I hadn’t counted on the press messing up everything.”
He reached out to her, but his hand stopped midway. He lowered his hand back to his side. “They didn’t ruin anything. It was no big deal.”
She didn’t believe him, but she wasn’t going to push the matter. “Does this mean you’ll accept my uncle’s invitation to stay for the heritage festival?”
A small smile pulled at his lips. “How could I turn down an invitation from a king?”
“He will be pleased.” She started to turn for the door to her suite, wishing he were staying for her instead. “You should get some rest.”
“Annabelle, wait. I’m staying for more than just that.”
She turned back to him, hesitant to get her hopes up. “What reason would that be?”
“Do you have to ask?”
“I do.”
“I’m staying because of you.”
Though she tried to subdue her response, it was impossible. Her heart fluttered in her chest and a smile pulled at her lips. “You’re staying for me?”
He nodded. “I think you did a terrific job today swaying my decision on the viability of establishing my Mediterranean headquarters here. The projections and incentives were impressive and well thought out. And the programs at the university were current and cutting-edge.”
“Thank you for the compliment. I hope it all works out.” And that he spends a lot more time in Mirraccino. “It’s getting late. We should call it a night.” Before she did something she might regret—like kiss him again.
“Oh, okay. It’s just I had something I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Do you mind if it waits? I need to be up early tomorrow. I have a couple of things I need to do for my uncle first thing.”
“Um, sure. I’ll see you in the morning.” For a moment, he didn’t move. It seemed as if he was considering whether he should kiss her or just walk away.
Was it wrong that she willed him to kiss her again? Her gaze sought out his lips, his very tempting lips. She’d never been kissed quite like she had by him. It had rocked her world right off its axis. What would one more kiss hurt?
Her heart pounded harder, faster. Her gaze focused on his. Was it her imagination or were their bodies being drawn toward each other? If she were just to sway forward a little, their lips would meet and ecstasy would ensue.
Grayson backed away. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Maybe she shouldn’t have rushed him off. Maybe she should have said that she’d talk to him as long as he wanted. But he was already walking away. She sighed. Tomorrow was another day. Hopefully it would go smoother than this one.
“Good night.”
She turned to her suite. Something told her that sleep was going to be elusive that night.
CHAP
TER NINE
HAD HE BEEN imagining things last night?
Grayson assured himself it had been a bunch of wishful thinking on his part. It was the best explanation he could come up with for that tension just before he’d walked away from Annabelle. After all, she was royalty and he was just a techno geek from Ohio. Definitely worlds apart.
Grayson ate his breakfast alone. So far there’d been no sightings of the king or Annabelle. Before coming to breakfast, Grayson had checked her room, but she hadn’t been there. She must have urgent things to do. Grayson couldn’t even imagine what it must be like having your uncle be the king. The responsibilities must be enormous.
But he had to gain Annabelle’s attention long enough to ask her some questions about the cryptic note. And no one he’d spoken to seemed to know where she might be. After breakfast, he checked the gardens and the beach. No sign of her.
He was about to head back upstairs to check her room again when he passed through the grand entryway. It was then that he noticed a folded newspaper sitting on a table. If he couldn’t find Annabelle, perhaps he’d do a little reading about Mirraccino. The more he learned about this Mediterranean paradise, the easier time he’d have selling the idea to his board of directors.
He glanced around for one of the many staff to ask them if he could borrow the paper, but no one was about. He picked up the paper and unfolded it. The breath caught in his throat when he saw a picture of himself.
His gaze frantically scanned the picture. It was of him and Annabelle. They were staring at each other. The photo made it look like they were about to kiss. But that wasn’t possible. The only kiss they’d shared had been in the privacy of Annabelle’s room. And this photo, it was taken outside, and from the looks of it at the university.
His gaze scanned up to the headline—Hero To The Rescue!
He was not a hero. Why did people keep saying that? He inwardly groaned, his hands clenching and crinkling the newspaper. If he were a hero Abbi wouldn’t be dead.
Blood pulsated in his temples. Why couldn’t the paparazzi find someone else to torment? He’d had enough of it back in California after the car accident.
Grayson’s attention returned to the brief article. It was pretty much what he’d expected. Innuendos and assumptions. But what he didn’t expect was a quote from Annabelle.
“We are together.”
She’d said that? To the media? Why would she tell them such a thing? It wasn’t true. He’d made sure to keep his distance since their one and only kiss—no matter how tempting he found her. What was she up to?
“Grayson, there you are.” Annabelle’s voice called out behind him. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
He choked down his outrage at the headline. He could only be thankful that the Mirraccino media hadn’t dug into his past, but something told him they would soon. “Apparently you didn’t look hard enough.” He closed the paper along the fold. “I’ve been right here.”
“I’m sorry things took so long this morning. There was more to do than I anticipated.”
He nodded. His mind was still on the newspaper article. “Really? It seemed like you took care of everything last night.”
She sent him a strange look as though she didn’t know what he was talking about. “I, ah, had some last-minute details to take care of for the heritage festival.”
His gaze lowered to the photo of them. It had to have been digitally altered because there was no way he’d looked at Annabelle like...like that—like they were lovers.
“Grayson, what’s the matter?”
He wondered if she’d seen the photo yet. “Why do you think something is the matter?”
“Because you’ve barely said a word to me. And you keep scowling. Now what’s the matter? Have I done something to upset you?”
“You might say that.” He held out the newspaper. “When were you going to tell me about this?”
She retrieved the newspaper from his hand. Her mouth gaped open. He wanted to believe that this was as much a surprise to her as it was to him, but he couldn’t let go of the fact that there was a quote from her.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” His voice came out more agitated than he’d intended.
“You think I did this?” Her free hand smacked off the paper.
“It has you quoted in the article.”
“I’m surprised you took time to read it.” She tossed the paper back on the table. “For the record, I didn’t imply that you and I are lovers. They did that all on their own. I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal about this. Surely someone of your position must be used to the media by now.”
That was the problem. He was all too used to them. He knew how much their words could cut and he thought at last the rumors had died down. But there hadn’t been a word about the accident in the paper. Maybe he was being oversensitive.
He shouldn’t have been so quick to think the worst of her. Is that what he’d let happen to him? Had his bad experience jaded him?
“I thought you and I were friends, but obviously I was wrong.” Annabelle’s voice drew him from his thoughts. “I won’t make that mistake again.” She turned to walk away.
He couldn’t let her walk away. Not like this.
Grayson cleared his throat. “Annabelle, wait.”
She hesitated but didn’t turn around. Her shoulders were rigid. And if he could see her eyes, he’d bet they were glowing with anger.
“I’m sorry,” he said. Those words didn’t often cross his lips. But he truly owed her an apology. He couldn’t take out what had happened to him in the past on her. “I shouldn’t have accused you of anything. I know the media can turn the most innocent of comments around.”
She turned to face him. Her expression was stony cold. “I appreciate the apology.”
He couldn’t tell if she truly meant that or not. He’d really messed things up. He raked his fingers through his hair.
“I’ve got things to do.” Annabelle walked away.
He picked up the paper again and held it before him. He studied the photo of them. Is that really how she looked at him? There was a vulnerability in her gaze as her body leaned toward him. This knowledge started a strange sensation swirling in his chest.
Then his gaze moved to the image of himself. He looked like he was ready to sweep her into his arms and have his way with her. Was that really what he’d felt in that moment? He recalled the desire to taste her sweet kisses once more, but he’d thought he’d covered it up. Obviously, he’d failed. Miserably.
Footsteps sounded in the hallway. He glanced up hoping to find Annabelle returning so that they could smooth things over—so they could resume the easy friendship that they’d developed. But it wasn’t her. It was Mr. Drago, one of the king’s men.
“Can I help you, sir?” The man was always so formal.
“Uh, no.” Grayson returned the paper to the table. “I was just going to look for Annabelle.”
“I believe I saw her go out to the patio.”
“Thank you.” Grayson walked away.
Part of him told him to leave things alone. It was best that they didn’t reconnect. After all, it wasn’t like he was ready for anything serious. He didn’t know if he ever would be. He’d already failed so miserably.
And since that deadly car accident, he’d cut himself off from everything outside his board of directors, and his assistant. He’d forgotten how much he’d enjoyed laughing with someone and just sharing a casual conversation.
Annabelle had given that back to him and he wasn’t ready to give it up. He wasn’t ready to give her up. Not yet.
What was he supposed to do now? He just couldn’t leave things like this. And then he thought of the cryptic note. He hadn’t had a chance to tell her his suspicion about it. Maybe that could get them ba
ck on friendly terms.
He picked up his pace.
* * *
Insulting.
Insufferable.
Annoying.
Annabelle muttered under her breath as she strode down the hallway with no actual destination in mind. She just needed some space—make that a lot of space—between her and Grayson before she said something she might regret. How dare he accuse her?
Like she would do anything to help the media. What did he take her for? A fool? Or was he just another man who thought she wasn’t savvy enough to take care of herself and watch what she said to the press?
Her back teeth ground together as she choked back her exasperation. What was it with the men in her life? She found herself headed for the patio. It was her place of solace, well, actually the beach was. The sea called to her. She stared out at the peaceful waters as the sunshine danced over the gentle swells.
She longed to go for a walk and let the water gently wash over her feet. It was so therapeutic. The more she thought about it, the more tempted she became. After all, she didn’t have anything else that needed her attention. Why not go for a walk on the beach?
Without any more debate, she set off down the steps. The warm breeze rushed through her hair, brushing it back over her shoulders. Later, she might go for a dip. It’d been a long time since she’d gone swimming, too long in fact.
She slipped off her shoes and walked to the water’s edge. She enjoyed the feel of the sun-warmed sand on her feet and then the coolness of the water as it washed over them.
“Annabelle!” The all-too-familiar voice called out to her.
Grayson.
She groaned inwardly. She wasn’t ready to deal with him. Not yet.
She started walking like she hadn’t heard him. Maybe he’d get the hint and leave her in peace, but something told her that man hadn’t gotten to the position of head of his own multinational company by letting people brush him off.
The Millionaire's Royal Rescue Page 8