Page 27 of The Problem with Princes
“I hope that’s okay.” Tyrone clears his throat and looks past me.
“Oh, that’s totally fine. I was just surprised when he wasn’t with you.” I hold up my shoes. “Let me just slip these on and we can go.”
I glance up at him from tying my shoes. He is looking around the room, the frown still pulling down his lips.
“Is this outfit okay for what we’re doing today? I wasn’t sure if you meant comfortable like yoga pants or comfortable like these.” I give him wide eyes. “I’m a little uncertain of dress codes after last night.
He tips his head to the side. “While I am sure the yoga pants would look great, what you’re wearing is nice.” He finally smiles again. “You look lovely.”
My cheeks are probably the same color as my hair. “Thanks. You look nice yourself.”
He comes and stands in front of me, lightly gripping my biceps. “I thought you looked stunning last night, so stop worrying about it. But I promise to be more detailed from now on. Even though I feel like you always seem to have an understated refinedness about you.”
I snort out a laugh. “Yeah, that’s what people are always telling me—how refined I am.”
He lifts his shoulders. “You may not see it, but I do. And so did my mother.”
I stop midway through the bunny going into the hole on my shoelace and look up at him. “Your mother thinks I’m refined? Was sheatdinner last night?”
He grabs a chair and sits it in front of me. “You handled yourself very well last night. Especially considering how far—it was Hallmark I believe— misguided you in your royal knowledge.”
I finish tying my shoe with a hard yank and laugh. “Yes. Hallmark.” I shake my head in disgust. “I’m going to have to question everything I’ve learned from watching their shows. They’ve lost some serious credibility with me.”
We stand up at the same time and he holds out his hand, a tentative look on his face.
I look at it and then up at him. He wants to hold my hand? My mind wants to take this in a million different directions and analyze every aspect of it. But I pause and push it all away. I’m going to do as Texie ordered. I’m just going to have fun.
I place my hand in his and he gives it a gentle squeeze. “Let’s go start your reeducation on royalty. What do you say?”
I tip my head to the side. “You think you’re a qualified teacher?”
He grins down at me and raises his brows several times. “Oh, I believe you’ll find I’m qualified to teach all sorts of subjects.”
What does he mean by that? It makes me both nervous and excited. “I can hardly wait to be educated.” I wink at him, which is totally not me thing to do.
As he pulls me to the door, I grab my neck wallet, phone and hat.
He grabs the hat from my hand and Frizbees it onto a chair just as I shut the door. I look back at the door. “Hey, I need that hat.” I know he thinks I don’t have a hat face, but it isn’t for fashion. It’s for protection.
He tilts his head to the side. “But I can’t see your face when you wear that monstrosity.”
I point to my skin. “But I will look like an over done lobster without it.”
“I have sunscreen in the car. Or if you prefer, we can stop and buy you a visor.” He puts his finger under my chin and lifts it slightly. “This should not be hidden.”
I pause with my hand on the doorknob.Don’t be you, I hear Texie’s voice in my head. Fine, I growl at her. I won’t be me.
“Are you ready to see what Atraxia has to offer, Miss Martindale?”
I nod. “If I am calling you Tyrone, you can call me Grace.”
He gives me an appraising look. “Can I call you Gee?”
My head slowly shakes, and I lightly tap my finger on his chest—his very firm chest. “I think we might be a bit early for that, mister. But I’ll take it under advisement.” I stop. Can you call a prince mister?
He guides me down the hallway and through a back door, where he pushes the button to an elevator I’ve never seen. Sander and his men take up positions around us. I think it’s what the professionals call flanking.
The sheer strangeness of all this suddenly hits me. A prince is holding my hand and asking to call me Gee.A Prince. I drew the last word out in my mind. What the what? This whole situation is totally crazy town. The flippies start back up in my stomach. But I push them down, determined to wait until I’m in a restroom or some other semi-private place where Tyrone is not.
