Hearing the compassion in his voice, I looked over at him, forcing myself to relax. He wasn’t really prying, after all, and I doubted he was going to run to the nearest gossip reporter and chat about how the Ice Princess was an ungrateful bitch who didn’t appreciate her parents.
“It’s not that it’s…unhappy,” I finally said. Stalling, I took a sip of the hot, frothy confection Ricky had gotten and glanced at him. “My parents just have…certain expectations of me. And I never fail to disappoint.”
His eyes roamed over my face, and after a moment, he said, “I can’t see how anybody could be disappointed in you.”
I blushed and focused on the coffee again. “They have views of the world that I don’t share. I’m expected to be finding an ideal husband. After all, isn’t that whymostwomen in my position go to college in the first place?”
“I’d always assumed the point of college was for an education?”
I shot him a look and caught the smile quirking at his lips. “Heaven forbid.”
“It sounds like your parents don’t understand you.”
“Do parents ever understand their kids?”
He took his time before answering. “I think many of them try.”
“Do yours understand you?” I shifted in the seat to look at him more fully.
“I’m in a complicated position there,” he said wryly. “My life was predetermined the moment I developed aYchromosome. I’ve had a path set before me my whole life, and while my parents love me and have indulged me to an extent, almost every choice is made with the knowledge that I’ll one day step into my father’s shoes.”
“Including hanging around a Formula One racing track?”
A laugh burst out of him. “Well, perhaps not that. I’ll admit, I’ve been luckier there than some. Both Geraint and I have. They encouraged us to have hobbies that truly interested us, not just something that was…considered acceptable by those of our station.”
“So, you didn’t grow up playing cricket and polo?”
“I kick ass at polo,” he said, gesturing to me with his coffee cup. “At least, I used to. I don’t play much anymore, but that’s because time doesn’t allow for it as much.”
“But you can spend weekends in Monaco at the track with Emmett.”
His eyes gleamed. “And you’d know that how, Stacia?”
“I might have looked,” I said defensively. I took another sip of coffee.
“Looking for information on me,” he murmured. “Darling, I’m an open book. Just ask.”
I slanted a gaze at him. “Yes, you’re so very easy to figure out, Luka.”
“Well,” he said with a faint smile. “Perhaps not for many, but I’ll make exceptions…for some.”
* * *
The hours flew by.
When Ricky stopped for gas, we both climbed out to stretch and headed into the store. Since I knew he was eager to get to Montreal, I suggested grabbing something to snack on after we’d used the restrooms, and he looked around the big, open convenience store with a look on his face that left me thinking he’d never been on a road trip in America before—maybe never.
“Come on,” I said, tugging him along with me to the bagged chips. “Fresh fruit is almost always safe, but you decide how adventurous you’re feeling about the hot food like pizza and hotdogs.”
“I like pizza.” His eyes slid to the front.
“I’m from New York.” I managed not to shudder as I considered the small, already-packaged slices sitting under heat lamps. “That’s not pizza.”
He laughed. “I’ll defer to the expert.” He grabbed a bag of chips and a snack pack of mixed nuts. I did the same, doubling up for Ricky. “Should have grabbed a basket.”
Luka simply scooped everything out of my hands, and I gave him a once-over. “I bet the gossip rags in Europe would have a field day if they had a picture of you right now.”
“Hush.” To my surprise, his cheeks flushed.