Page 10 of Royal Sin

Leonard reached across the table and caught my fingers. The contact was warm and firm. "I've offended you."

I tried to pull my hand away, but he held on. "Not at all."

"Anna," he said, my name somehow intimate in his low voice. "I apologize. I spoke without thinking."

The sincerity in his eyes caught me off guard. I’d expected many things from this man—arrogance, charm, perhaps even manipulation—but not this genuine contrition.

“It’s fine,” I said, relaxing my hand in his. “Most people don’t understand what goes into creating a story.”

He released my hand but not my gaze. “Then help me understand. How do they really escape?”

I hesitated, considering my options. No one outside my online writing workshop had ever heard the details of my manuscript—and that was months ago, when the story was only a simple idea. But something about Leonard’s attentiveness, the way he seemed to actually care about my fictional characters made me not hate him.

“I just meant that magic should come at a price. What does it cost her to save him?” He pressed.

“Oh….” I swallowed hard, conflicted. “I suppose there could be a price. Maybe her humanity?”

Leonard nodded. “Is that something dear to her?”

It hadn’t been. But now I saw how it could fit into the bigger picture. The tension of other beings versus mortals. My voiceslipped out of its own accord. “To harness enough power to free him, she has to embrace the darkness inside herself.”

“And then, how does she not hate him for that?” he pressed.

“I don’t know.”

“But you’ll figure it out.” Leonard turned to the waiter. “One quattro formaggi, and one Fra Diavolo. For you, Anna?”

“My usual, Paolo,” I said, handing the waiter my menu.

We fell into an easier conversation after that. But my heart still pattered wildly when I caught him looking at me with that mixture of curiosity and admiration. A real danger was becoming ever-present. Ilikedbeing with him. The way he challenged me, the way he watched me—it was intoxicating to be the center of such focus.

When the half dozen cannoli came on a platter—because Paolo didn’t need me to order, he simply brought them—Leonard slid his palm over mine. “You’re sure you’re not mad?”

I quickly searched my heart. The criticism was a surprise, one I wasn’t prepared for. But now that it is settled, I saw how good his questions were. “Not a bit. It helped, actually.”

“Good, because I’d like to see you again.” He snatched a dessert and took a large bite.

And I didn’t even have to ask.“I see that I’ve made an impression on you,” I drawled, avoiding giving him an answer.

“You haven’t once asked me about my salary or net worth, my dating history, or my family.” He wiped crumbs from his chin. “It’s not every day I find someone who doesn’t interrogate me.”

“Well, if it’s off-putting, I can ask, but frankly, I don’t see the big deal.” I waved my hand in his direction. “You’re in business, probably make a lot of money, and have very little free time, so what?”

“It is a big deal. Appearance is everything.” The hard note lacing those words made me pause.

He was calculating and figuring me into his life based on the information I presented. When I came clean, and told him who I really was, what would his reaction be? Better, probably. Dating an heiress would only increase his value. I would cross that bridge later, but only once I was sure he liked me enough not to run when he found out the truth.

After sliding cash into the black book, I rose from the table. Taking my purse, I filed from the restaurant into the sultry, humid evening.

The silence followed us until I reached my car. Leonard’s brows shot up as he recognized the model.

“A gift from a grandma,” I said, telling the truth. “Not something I can afford on a day job and romance writing by moonlight salary.”

Opening the door, Leonard stepped in my path. One hand on either side of the roof, he caged me in place. “I’m not an easy man, Anna.”

The air was suddenly ten times thicker and made drawing a breath hard.

“Okay?” I gulped.

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