Page 44 of The Duke's Virgin

“No problem.” Her cheeks colored, and she cleared her throat. “Ah…so, how did you meet Emmett? Seems a bit of an odd match there, the heir to a dukedom…sorry, duchy.” She smiled faintly in apology.

I wanted to catch that smile, kiss it until it faded to a moan.

“Anyway, it’s an odd friendship. Or it seems that way. He’s a racecar driver from Kentucky. You’re in line to be the next Duke of Luxembourg. How did you even meet?”

I wouldn’t have thought anything could make me laugh today.

But the memory of how Emmett and I had met did it.

“We got trapped in an elevator,” I said, giving her a rueful grin.

“I…” She blinked and shook her head. “You what?”

“We got trapped in an elevator.” I couldn’t help but laugh again at the look of mild panic on her face, even though just thinking about the time was enough to makemefeel a bit of panic creep back in. “I was on a trip to New York with my father. It was one of the first times I’d gone with him on one of his diplomatic trips, and although I had to attend several meetings with him, by early afternoon, I was bored out of my mind, and he let me go back to the hotel suite.”

Stacia wrinkled her nose. “Uh oh.”

I laughed. “Uh oh is right. As you can imagine, I didn’t stay long. I wanted to see the city that never sleeps, so that was what I did. I ended up in one of the big old department stores. Emmett got on the elevator with me. He was in town for a debate event and had gone out to do some shopping with his family that afternoon. The elevator didn’t stop on every floor because several of the original entrances had been sealed off entirely. We were halfway between the first and fourth floor, and it just stopped. It took me a minute or two to realize it was stuck.”

She gave an exaggerated shudder. “I would have freaked the hell out.”

“The gene that allows forfreaking the hell outwas bred out of the family line generations back,” I said solemnly. “It’s frowned upon for a royal to engage in something so…common.”

She narrowed her eyes at me, but slowly, a smile bloomed over her face. “You were scared, weren’t you?”

“Yes.” I shifted in the seat and took a sip of the whisky in front of me, swirling it absently as I remembered those first thirty or forty minutes. “I was scared out of my mind, but I couldn’t show it. After all, this kid who was in there with me wasn’t scared, and ifhewasn’t scared, I couldn’t make out to be, either.”

“So Emmett wasn’t freaked out?” She gave me a skeptical look.

I laughed. “He drives racecars that go over 350 kilometers an hour, or over two-twenty for those of you who usemiles,” I teased. “He’s been racing most of his life, started out with go-karts, then moved to stock cars as soon as he was old enough. It takes more than an elevator being stuck a while to scare him. He lives and breathes for his next adrenaline rush.”

“I think I’d rather race a car at330 kilometers an hourthan be stuck in an elevator,” she said, wrinkling her nose at me. “So…you bonded during tragedy?”

I laughed. “It…wasn’t tragic. I was…well, I can’t use the wordfreaking out, you understand.”

“The gene thing.”

“Absolutely. But I was…mildlyconcerned. He kept trying to talk me down. He’d already used the phone to call for help, and they’d located his parents. They were in town on a family vacation, and his family was in the store. Then I had to talk to the operator on the other end of the line about my father…” I hesitated, uncertain how to continue.

I didn’t have to explain, though. After only moments, understanding lit her eyes. “You didn’t know how he’d handle it, or how the operator would handle it, did you?”

“No. And I was scared of how myfatherwould handle it. I knew he wouldn’t be happy that I’d left the hotel.” I grimaced, rememberingthatparticular worry. It had all been for nothing. My father had already been on his way to the store because he’d had two of the security team watching me. Apparently,hehad been young once, too, he’d told me later that day, giving me a stern look as he drank his second glass of whisky.

The team had known there was a problem almost immediately, and I’d been panicking about telling him something he already knew.

As I relayed that to her, she gave me a smile that was a mix of sympathy and laughter. “Were you really so afraid of how he’d act? He seems so kind.”

“He is. Don’t misunderstand. But both he andMamancan be very strict.” I shrugged, taking another sip of whisky. “Neither my brother nor I were born into a life that would allow for undisciplined children. Monarchies don’t tolerate it.”

“You wanted to explore a city. It’s not like you went out and got drunk, hit up your first drug dealer, and picked up a hooker.”

“Well, there is that.” I winked at her. “I waited to do all of that until my first trip to Paris.”

“Ha, ha.” She jabbed me in the arm with her index finger.

I caught her hand, not wanting to let it go.

She tugged free, clearing her throat. “So, how long were you in the elevator?”

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