Page 36 of Raul
As she speedwalked down the corridor to avoid encountering the king, she wondered if she might have to start carrying the gun she had put away after the camping trip.
Chapter 10
Staring at the mirror of the palace bathroom she’d ducked into, Erica plucked at the collar of her pale green silk blouse. Was the V-neck too low? Was it too sheer under the burnout pattern of swirling leaves and vines? Maybe she should take off the longer of the two slender gold necklaces so it didn’t draw the eye to the hint of cleavage. Was her slim linen skirt too short? Her taupe heels too businesslike? Should she have just worn jeans again, as Raul had suggested?
She needed to splash cold water on her face to calm herself down, but that would ruin the makeup she had applied to look like she wasn’t wearing makeup.
Instead, she braced her hands on the marble sink and took a deep breath. She had safely landed a plane after one engine failed. She had flown through fog thicker than pea soup without radar.
Having dinner with a prince in his private apartment should be a cakewalk.
If only he weren’t so damned sexy. No, worse than that. If only he weren’t so damned honorable and guilt-ridden and willing to share his secrets with her.
“Snap out of it!” she ordered herself as she shoved away from the sink, straightening her shoulders as though she were wearing her uniform and facing her commanding officer. She was still reserve military, so in a way, Raulwasher commanding officer. Just many levels up the hierarchy.
If only she could think of him as nothing more.
She hitched her purse on her shoulder and marched out of the bathroom and down the corridor to Raul’s door.
When the guard swung it open, she sucked in a breath.
Raul stood only a few feet from her, leaning on gun-metal-gray crutches. The iron chandelier over his head threaded warm, golden light through his hair and highlighted the strong angles of his face. He wore a close-fitting blue dress shirt that matched his striking eyes and tailored gray trousers. The only dissonance was his dangling bare foot wrapped in a black elastic bandage.
“Buenas noches!You look beautiful,” he said, smiling as his gaze traveled down and back up her body so that every inch of her felt it like a touch.
“So do you.”Break the tension with humor.“The crutches are a cutting-edge fashion accessory.”
He made a face. “I’m allowed to use them to walk as far as the dining room and back. I’m afraid I won’t be able to pull out your chair.”
“I’ll manage somehow.” She fidgeted with the strap of her purse, waiting for his cue.
“Shall we?” He pivoted on his good leg and waited for her to come up beside him.
He must have showered recently, because the scent of cedarwood with a hint of vanilla wafted past her nostrils, and she indulged herself by inhaling deeply.
He started toward an open set of double doors, his crutches silent on the thick Oriental rug. With each step, he swung the crutches forward and brought his good foot level with them in a smooth, effortless motion.
“You use those crutches like a pro,” she said as she walked with him.
“It’s not the first time I’ve sprained my ankle.” He gave her a smiling grimace. “I played a lot offutbolat school.”
He was being modest. The media had proudly reported that, as the captain and striker, he had led his high school team to the championship three years in a row.
They stepped through the double doors, and she stopped. The dining room was lit entirely by candles—in sconces on the walls, in candlesticks on the table, and candelabras on the sideboard. Their entrance caused a slight breeze that set the light flickering over crystal and silver-and-gray silk wallcoverings. Shadows danced over the wood ceiling, where gilt paint caught the moving flames.
“What a lovely room!” Erica exclaimed.
And intensely romantic.Or maybe she was imagining things because an insane part of her wanted that to be true.
“Grace supervised the setup.” Raul scanned the room. “I think we need more light.”
He tapped a switch on the wall beside him, and the brass chandelier over the table glowed to life.
That changed the mood of the room and calmed her sudden case of nerves somewhat.
“Where do you usually sit?” Erica surveyed the square table, which had two chairs set across from each other.
He nodded to the closer chair. “Not that it matters.”
