Page 22 of The Problem with Princes
I have to give him some props. He manages a smile. “Where are you getting your information about royalty? I think it may be giving you the wrong idea.”
My face turns twenty shades of red and I shrug. “You know, the usual places. Hallmark channel, movies. The typical.” I long blink, kicking myself and knowing I had probably just shot all my credibility as a researcher with those few words.
He laughs out loud, and I open my eyes. The whole table is looking at us.
“What is so funny, Tyrone?” His mother smiles across the table at us.
Oh, please do not repeat my stupidity. Perhaps if I say it enough times, it will actually come true.
“Miss Martindale was just telling me a funny story.”
The queen raises her brows and smiles. “Oh, please share. It must have been very humorous to receive such a reaction from Tyrone. He isn’t easily amused.”
He seems to laugh enough at me. But I’m not about to repeat what we have been talking about. I need to think of something else. But my mind goes blank. What am I supposed to say? I lick my lips and blurt the first thing that comes to me. “I was telling him of the time my nylons fell down around my ankles while I was crossing the street on my way to work.”
What? Did I really just say that out loud? That is so much worse than the Hallmark thing. I don’t think my face could get any hotter, but I’m wrong.
Prince Tyrone laughs even harder and the king and queen both look at me like I have sprouted antennae on my head. From where I am sitting, they are the ones who are not easily amused.
Texie joins in on the laughter. “That is a funny story. Although, it paints the wrong picture when you just call them nylons. They were actually thigh highs.”
I telepathically tell her to shut up.
The prince’s eyes widen, and he glances at me. “Oh? She neglected to mention that part.
Texie laughs. “Can you imagine, the cars stopped at the light honking at her to get out of the street?” She sighs. “It’s one of my favorite stories.”
I kick Texie under the table. “I don’t think they really need any more information, Tex.” Oh man, how did an evening so ripe with potential go so terribly awry?
Texie scowls at me but turns back to her food. A servant comes and takes my now cold soup away, placing a clean plate before me. If it wasn’t completely inappropriate, I would totally kiss the man. The change in food seems to draw the attention away from me and other conversations start back up.Although, I can’t help but notice Prince Barak keeps glancing at me from across the table. And it’s not one of those sly, I’m into you, glances. It’s more of the why-did-we-let-this-crazy-person-in-our-home kind of glances.
I want to put my elbows on the table and drop my head into my hands, but I have already made such a fool of myself, I can’t possibly breach protocol like that.
“Do not think for one second that I will let you return to America without you telling me that story in its entirety,” the prince says softly.
Why does his voice have to sound all rich and velvety?
I shake my head, my mortification complete.
“I should apologize again.” He reaches over and puts a hand on my arm. “That seems to be all I’m doing today. I should not have put you on the spot like that.”
I take a long, cleansing breath. “No need to apologize. This is not the first time my mouth has gotten me in trouble.” I offer a weak smile. It’s too bad we will never end up together, because these are the types of stories that become family folklore, handed down for generations. “We’re good. Even for the coffee.”
“Thank you for your understanding,” Prince Tyrone visibly relaxes. “I haven’t seen my mates in nearly two years.” He shrugs. “We all have responsibilities, which only seem to increase the older we get. So yes, I was disappointed. But as I said, it does not excuse my behavior.”
“I shouldn’t have thrown my money at you or told you my name was Grace Kelly.” I grimace at the memory. I really was not at my best, was I?
He chuckles, but less loudly this time. “Yes, you did make it more difficult to find you.” He flicks his gaze at my hair and smiles appreciatively. “Thankfully, you stand out among a crowd. Especially here on Atraxia. A redhead and a blonde traveling together do attract some attention.”
A servant interrupts our conversation with a platter of cabbage rolls andmoussaka.Suddenly, I’m starving again. I glance over at Prince Tyrone and grin. “Why don’t we start over?”
“Yes, neither of us showed well on our first impressions,” he murmurs.
“Even more reason to begin again.” I lift my hand. “Hello. My name is Grace Martindale. I’m pleased to meet you.”
The prince takes my hand, gently squeezing it. “The pleasure is all mine, Miss Martindale. My name is Tyrone Theodoropoulos.” He continues to hold my hand a little longer and my stomach gets all fluttery again.
“That is not how you actually introduce yourself, is it?” I cut into my cabbage roll. “Don’t you have to include Prince in there somewhere?”
