by Sandra Hyatt
Her grip on the wheel tight and her jaw even tighter, Danni pulled to a stop in front of Anna’s apartment building. And maybe, just maybe, her stop wasn’t quite as gentle as it ought to have been.
The couple in the backseat drew apart. Anna trailed her long red fingernails down the front of Adam’s shirt. The green-and-gold-uniformed doorman stepped forward to open the car door and the couple got out, Anna still managing to drape herself over Adam. Danni wasn’t sure if she was whispering into Adam’s ear or trying to eat it. It looked like the latter. Danni rubbed at her own ear in sympathy.
Not wanting to watch her passengers walk to the doorway of Anna’s building—public displays of affection held no appeal—she retrieved her book and reclined her seat. She hadn’t even found her page when Adam reappeared and slid into the backseat.
“The palace,” he said, the words terse. He lowered the privacy screen but said nothing more as she drove through the city and out toward the palace estates. She chanced the occasional glance at him in the mirror. He hadn’t fallen asleep though there was a definite weariness about his eyes as he watched the city slide by.
She knew something of his schedule and so she knew that the days and evenings of the previous week had been hectic and full, meetings after functions after openings and launches.
She eased to a careful stop in front of his wing of the palace and met his gaze in the mirror.
“Better,” he said.
“Better? Your date?”
“No. The date was decidedly worse. I meant your stopping. Compared to the one in front of Anna’s apartment.”
Ahh. “I apologize for that. My foot slipped.”
“Thank you.”
For apologizing or for her foot slipping in the first place? She wasn’t going to ask. By the time she’d walked around the back of the car, he’d opened his door and stood. His gaze slid over her from head to toe.
Usually she was good at the whole calm, stoic thing but Danni fought the urge to squirm under his scrutiny, having no idea what he thought when he looked at her. Or maybe it was just the cold making her want to fidget. It was freezing out here tonight. Cold enough for snow.
Her gaze flicked to Adam’s shirtfront, still largely unbuttoned. Frowning, as though only just remembering that they were undone, he reached for the lower buttons and slowly did them up. The movement of his fingers held her mesmerized.
It wasn’t till he was finished that she remembered what she needed to say. “Thank you, too,” she said. “For the food.”
“It was no trouble.”
And it wouldn’t have been. Someone else would have prepared the food and another person would have put it in the car. But it was Adam who’d had the idea and she was still oddly touched by it.
He slid his hands into his pockets and tilted his head toward the palace. “Come in.”
“To the palace?”
“Where else? I don’t want to talk about the date out here.”
Danni looked around. Assorted staff members stood discreet distances away, always at the ready. If she insisted on staying out here she’d only make everyone colder. Besides, she’d been into the palace before. Many times in fact, though not in the last few years. This should be no different. So she shrugged and walked with Adam, went through the door held open by a staff member she didn’t recognize. As Adam led her up a flight of stairs and along a corridor hung with gilt-framed portraits, she realized where they were going.
He opened the door to the library. The room, with its floor-to-ceiling shelves of leather-bound books, and armchairs big enough to curl up in, had been her favorite when she was younger. The chess set they used to play on was still here too, nestled in a corner by a window.
Despite the fact that the room had been designed to be restful, Danni was far from relaxed. It had been years since she was last here and in that time her ease in Adam’s company and her confidence in their simple friendship had vanished.
In the car she was in charge, of the car at least. Her father’s gatehouse was her territory, too, and outside was…outside. A place of freedom. But here, inside the palace, where everything was governed by rules not of her making and many of them outside of her awareness, standing with the heir apparent, she was out of her depth and well out of her comfort zone.
She walked to a side table and set her cap on it then slowly peeled off her gloves, feeling oddly vulnerable without the protection her uniform afforded her. A protection that said this is who I am and this is who you are. We’re people defined by our roles. But now, as she raked a hand through her hair, she was just Danni and he was Adam. There could never be a just in front of his name unless it was used in its opposite meaning. He was just gorgeous. Serious, but gorgeous with those dark eyes that seemed always to be watching and thinking.
Even without the props of her uniform, she knew she had to keep focused on her reason for being here—which had nothing to do with Adam’s eyes. Although maybe the eyes had helped sway her, subliminally at least. “So, your date?”
“Let’s wait till after dessert.”
“Dessert?”
She turned at the sound of a tap on the door. A footman walked in carrying a tray, set it on the low table between two armchairs and then left.
Danni glanced from the tray to Adam.
“I thought you might be hungry.”
“Not that hungry!” She looked at the twin slices of cheesecake and the two mugs of cream-topped hot chocolate.
He smiled his first smile of the evening. “It’s not all for you.”
“But you’ve just eaten.”
He shook his head. “Anna was a salad-only type of woman. No carbohydrates. No dressing. I was hardly going to eat dessert while she’d scarcely touched a thing. As it was, her pushing her lettuce around her plate all evening almost put me off my linguine. And I love linguine. So aside from it being bad manners, I was in no hurry to prolong the evening. By the time the waiter asked if we wanted to order dessert, the future chances for a relationship were crystal clear.”
“You’ve already fed me once tonight.” Her mouth watered even as she pretended that she wasn’t hungry.
“It was a long evening and that was just a snack. And unless things have changed drastically from when you were younger, you have—let’s call it a healthy appetite and a sweet tooth. And cheesecake was a particular favorite.” He watched her. “Have things changed?”
A grin tugged at her lips and her gaze strayed back to the cheesecake. “Apparently not all that much.”
He picked up the two bowls. “Sit down then.”
Once she was settled in an armchair he passed her a bowl and took the opposite chair.
Danni bit into the tart velvety cheesecake and her eyes almost rolled back in her head in ecstasy while she savored the delight. “Charlebury’s still chef?” she asked once she’d opened her eyes again.
Adam laughed. “Yes.”
For the next few minutes they ate in appreciative silence. Finally, sated and the dessert finished, Danni set down her bowl.
“Not licking it?” Adam asked, teasing in his tone.
“Trust me, I thought about it. I have only one complaint.”
He asked the question with his eyes.
“I don’t think I’m going to be able to do the hot chocolate justice now.”
“You’ll give it your best shot, though?”
“It would be cowardly of me not to at least try. But I think I have to stand and give it a few minutes before I make the attempt.” She crossed to one of the long vertical windows. A single snowflake drifted past the narrow pane of glass, lonely and aimless.
The grounds close to the palace were well lit but farther out, the light faded to shadows illuminated only sporadically by pools of brightness for either security or decoration or both. Occasional statues and trees stood spotlighted. And in the distance a building… “I think I can see the gatehouse.”
“Beyond the stand of trees to the west?”
“Y
es. I don’t remember being able to see it from the library.”
He lifted a shoulder. “It’s been a while since you were here. You’re taller.”
“I guess. The lights are still on,” she said turning her gaze back to the window. “That probably means Dad’s fallen asleep watching TV again.”
“Do you remember the first time I saw you in here?”
“I try not to.” Ever since he mentioned the word taller she’d wanted to steer the conversation in a different direction. She watched his reflection in the glass. He frowned. “I’m still a little embarrassed. I remember what I said.”
His frown eased to a smile. “That just because I was taller and could reach the higher books and just because I was a prince, didn’t make me any better than you.”
“Yeah, that. Thanks for the reminder.”
He was still smiling, with his eyes at least. “You’re welcome.”
“I had a little chip on my shoulder.”
“No kidding.”
“I was new here. Feeling out of place, and a little, no, a lot, intimidated and insecure.”
“I knew that.”
Danni turned back to him. “You were good to me, telling me that you were glad I didn’t think of you as any different because you were a prince, because so many people did treat you differently.” Danni laughed. “And then you said that maybe being taller made you a little bit better though.” She pointed to a shelf. “Look. The atlas is still up there. You helped me find America on it. Asked about where I’d come from.” He had the people skills even then that made him such a good prince today, made him so well loved by his countrymen.
“I don’t want to tarnish my image, but I was supposed to be studying and didn’t want to. You were my excuse not to.”
She remembered him sitting at the desk, books spread all over it. To her, at five years old, his ten years had made him look almost grown up. Ultimately, the fact that he became her protector and champion till she found her feet had indebted her to him.
For a long time after that she’d worshipped him, refusing to hear a hint of a bad word spoken, even in jest, about him by any of the other palace children.
“So, your date?” Danni prompted, looking back at him. That was why she was here. To help him find the right woman. Not to reminisce. She could return that favor he’d done her all those years ago.
Tension crept back into his shoulders. She ought not to be thinking about smoothing her hand over his brow, or massaging those broad shoulders. “You said the date was worse? I have to say, from where I sat, it looked to be going remarkably well.”
Adam shook his head. “Appearances can be deceiving. It turned out we weren’t all that compatible. I realized I’d left an important criterion off my list.”
“Being?”
“A certain restraint in the consumption of alcohol.”
Adam picked up the hot chocolates and carried them over to her. Danni reached for one, wrapping her fingers around the mug. “Anna could just have been nervous. She might actually be shy and reserved and conservative. Maybe she was so nervous she drank more than she would have normally. You can be intimidating.”
“Not on a date. At least I try not to be,” he added, forestalling her argument.
“There wasn’t a lot to her, it wouldn’t take much alcohol. And if she was shy…”
“That occurred to me,” Adam said, standing shoulder to shoulder with her and looking out into the night. “But the suggestions she made as to how we might carry on with our date didn’t seem entirely consistent with someone shy and reserved, or the least bit conservative.”
Danni didn’t want to imagine. “You didn’t take her up on them? Because from what I saw you didn’t seem entirely unhappy with the situation.”
Adam turned his head and his grin had an endearing boyishness to it. “I had a beautiful woman in my lap wanting to take advantage of me. Of course I wasn’t unhappy. And I didn’t want to be rude.”
“Of course not. Always the gentleman. But?”
The smile dimmed, turned serious. “There was no real chemistry. Not when we talked. Not even when we kissed. So, aside from the fact that she was well on her way to being drunk, there was never going to be a second date. Although she claimed that didn’t bother her, it wouldn’t have been…right.”
Danni didn’t analyze her relief or why his sense of honor pleased her quite so much. “She might not have been such a good look in a future crown princess, either.”
“No.”
“And your father wouldn’t have approved.”
“Ahh, no.”
“So it worked out for the best.”
“Yes.”
“And clearly you don’t actually need my services. Anna certainly found you attractive at least.”
“Anna was drunk.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary for a woman to find you attractive.” In fact she knew it wasn’t. Not a drop of alcohol had passed Danni’s lips and she had no trouble finding him attractive. Too much so. His eyes, his lips, his chest—so much about him fascinated her. Which was why it might be best if they ended this arrangement.
“I know it’s not. But being serious about the process certainly takes the fun out of it.”
“Well of course it does if you approach it with the determination and precision of a military exercise. What was the last fun date you went on?”
“I’m not discussing past dates with you, Danni.”
“You wanted my help.”
“With future dates not past ones.”
“But maybe if you told me about the ones that worked. Or about Michelle.”
“No.”
And maybe she didn’t really want to know about past successful dates. She just needed to help him find a solution to his current dilemma. “So find a woman who enjoys the same things as you and do some of them together. That way you know you’ll both at least have fun even if it doesn’t turn into anything more.”
Adam nodded as though considering her suggestion but said nothing.
“So what do you enjoy doing?” she prompted.
“I hardly remember,” he said with a frown and a shake of his head that implied he didn’t think it was all that important. “It’s been so long since I did anything just for the fun of it. That’s not what my life is about now.”
“And it shows.”
“Care to explain?”
Did she imagine that hint of tightness in his voice? “You don’t need me to explain. And it wasn’t a criticism.”
“Much.”
“It was a statement. You carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, you do everything you can for your family and the country, and you don’t seem to do anything just for you. Just for the pure enjoyment of it. A little impulsiveness every now and then wouldn’t kill you. All work and no play…”
“I play polo,” he said triumphantly. “When my schedule allows,” he added.
“I’ve seen you and the way you play—” she shook her head “—that’s not anyone’s definition of fun. You play as intensely as you work.”
“But I enjoy it.”
“It still doesn’t make for much of a date for anyone else. And it’s too structured. What about doing things on impulse? For laughs, for fun. Read my lips. Fun. F.U.N. Fun.”
His gaze seemed to fix on her mouth as she spoke, and his frown returned. Why did he so often frown when he looked at her? She got the feeling he wasn’t even listening to her.
There had been something else she was going to add, but words and thought evaporated, replaced by an awareness she couldn’t repress. Awareness of standing here with Adam. Close enough to touch. Awareness of the fact that although he’d fastened some of his buttons, he still had too many undone for her comfort, some of which he’d undone at her insistence. Awareness of that glimpse of chest, which was even more appealing than it had been earlier in the evening. And of the way he smelled—divine.
Four
Adam looked at Danni and
felt himself leaning closer. He knew all about impulse—and about fighting it. Impulse told him to kiss her, to pull her into his arms and silence her with his lips on hers.
That would be pure enjoyment.
Far more even than watching her devour the cheesecake. He’d wanted some way of showing he appreciated what she was doing for him; feeding her had seemed like the perfect solution. But she ate with such uncensored sensual pleasure that he’d quickly come to regret the gesture.
The urge to kiss her now shocked him but he wouldn’t let it overly concern him. His life was all about not acting on impulse. It was about always considering options and consequences before taking action.
But in a perverse way, it was as though since he’d become serious about finding a wife, his subconscious was trying to thwart him, like a man looking to buy a nice safe Volvo who suddenly sees the perfect tempting Ferrari for sale.
He reminded himself that he’d known Danni since they were kids. It sent a jolt of surprise through him every time he looked at her and realized anew that she was most definitely no longer a kid.
After the evening with Anna, Danni’s sparkle, her directness, her innocence were tempting him in ways that she could have no idea about. She wore no lipstick but even without her prompting to read her lips, he was most definitely thinking about them. Soft and mobile. About how the tiny smear of hot chocolate above her top lip would taste, laced with her freshness.
Her green eyes widened as he watched her and he could only hope his thoughts didn’t show. Because he couldn’t have thoughts like that about her. Because she was Danni.
But if she’d been any other woman, he would have reached for her and kissed that hot chocolate away.
He shook his head to clear it and stepped back, fighting the compulsion to step forward instead. Could her skin possibly feel as soft as it looked? “Danni.”