Page 27 of Some Like It Scandalous
“George can excuse us. There’s a suite downstairs waiting for him.” His grip was like silken steel, gentle but unbreakable. He kept her at his side, his gaze zeroed in on his brother. Her stomach cramped. The tension surged through the room, a chemical electricity that sizzled across her skin.
“As you wish, Your Highness.” George bowed, spared her one cool, scathing look and marched out the way he came in. The door closed in the other room and they were alone again.
She shifted uneasily and glanced down to where his hand held hers. He slid his fingers between hers, interlacing them, and gave her a light squeeze. “He’s young and full of himself.”
“He loves his brother.” Though he shared none of that affection for her. “I should…clean this up.”
“No. We can clean it up together after you eat.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed one knuckle. The warm touch of his lips sent another wave of awareness tingling through her. Her nipples tightened further if that was possible, stinging against the cold bra clinging to them.
He rescued her half sandwich from the other side of the counter and sat it down in front of her.
“Maybe you should go talk to him? He must have flown a long way…”
Shrugging, he plucked a chip from her hair and nibbled it. “Still crunchy.” He grinned. “And salty.”
“Armand—”
“Do you want a fresh sandwich?” He cut her off.
Sighing, she picked up the half-eaten half sandwich and shook her head. She wasn’t hungry anymore, but he held her hand captive and he wanted her to eat. So she ate. He turned andstretched back to open the fridge, still holding on to her while he got them two fresh bottles of water.
“For consumption—not ammunition.” He tapped her nose with a finger and she snickered, but the humor failed to gain traction in her soul—not the way their earlier fun had.
“Will you answer my question?”
“Which one?” He had to let her go to open the water bottles, but he didn’t move away and she conceded the field on this one, staying right where she was.
“What do I call you?”
He took a long drink of water before tugging his own plate closer. He picked at the sandwich and she thought he might not answer at all. “I told you yesterday, you can call me Charlie.”
“And I said Charlie was a lie.” She finished the thought and sighed. “I’m sorry I said that—it wasn’t very kind.”
“No, but it was honest. You are always brutally honest.” Sadness crept beneath his words and her heart squeezed. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and chase away the melancholy shrouding him.
She chewed her lower lip, peeling the sandwich apart to pick out the meat. “I don’t know if I know how to do this…” She lacked the words to describe the conflict rending through her. She wanted to hug him. She wanted to punch him. She wanted to latch on and never let go. And terrified that this time, walking away would kill her…
He slid a hand behind her neck, familiar, casual—intimate—and so very him. It took very little coaxing for her to look up at him. The gazes crashed together and history seemed to rewind—it was just the two of them. It had always been them against the world—until the day she left him.
“Miss Novak,I’m sorry—His Highness is in a meeting.” The guard blocked her from accessing the door to Charlie’s office.
“Do you know when Charlie—His Highness—will be free?” She grimaced. It hadn’t been a full week since they arrived in Norway and she didn’t think he’d slept for a moment. Certainly, she didn’t see him though she had woken once when he slid into bed next to her—falling immediately to sleep at three in the morning. He’d been gone when she woke again just three hours later.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. I don’t.” The security guard returned to his position and Anna nodded. Fighting the urge to slide her hands into her pockets, she smoothed her morning jacket. It took her a moment to find a door exiting into a rose garden. The well-manicured lawns were a brilliant shade of green and the roses—they came in all shades from a deep rich golden yellow to a vibrant red.
She wandered through the garden for the better part of an hour before she caught his familiar voice. “One moment, gentlemen.”
Charlie strode out the same doors she’d used and crossed the sunny patch of garden to catch her hands in his. “They said you were looking for me. Is everything all right?” He didn’t kiss her or do more than grasp her fingers. “I have a meeting with the prime minister and I don’t know how long I’ll be. Is it important?”
Shaking her head slowly, she murmured. “No, of course not.”
Lifting her hands to his lips, he kissed her knuckles. “I will find time for us to talk, I promise.”
Stomach lurching, she forced another smile. “I understand.” She didn’t—not really. Why hadn’t he told her he was a prince? What made him keep the secret from her? Who was this cool, remote man and what had he done with her Charlie?
“Your Highness, the car awaits.”
“I have to go. Have someone take you to the museums. You’ll love them.” And then he was gone. He didn’t return that evening—or at least he didn’t until very late. Anna only knew he’d been in her room by the faint scent of his aftershave clinging to the pillow.
