Page 16 of The Accidental Beauty Queen
“I see.” His eyes narrow, ever so slightly, and I get the feeling he’s concentrating on something.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“Fine. I’m just ‘meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow.’ ” The dimple flashes again.
I might faint.
Did he just say I had fine eyes?
Did he just callmepretty?
He gestures toward my shirt. I look down at it as if I’ve never seen it before, even though it’s one of my favorites. The words emblazoned across my chest come into focus.Talk Darcy to Me.
Of course. He’s just parroted Fitzwilliam Darcy fromPride and Prejudice, which means he’s literally talking Darcy to me. It also means he’s complimenting Elizabeth Bennet’s eyes, not mine.
The smile wobbles off my face. Of course that’s what it means. No one actually talks like that in real life.
Especially not to me.
Still, the fact that he’s once again rattling off quotes from my favorite books like they’re as permanently ingrained in his head as they are in mine makes me weak in the knees. As does the way he continues focusing on me, even when a flock of pageant contestants glide past us, as graceful as the swan boats bobbing in the distance.
“I’m desperately trying to find a fault in you,” I manage to sputter.
It’s not an exact quote from the book, but close enough for him to recognize it.
He laughs, and I can tell he’s enjoying this little game every bit as much as I am. Off to the side, a few of the pageant girls gather in a cluster. They’re looking this way, but his blue eyes are twinkling and he’s still smiling.
At me.
My head spins a little, like I’ve been sipping champagne. Is this what it’s like to be noticed? To beseen?
If so, I like it more than I should.
“I should go,” I blurt.
Ginny is upstairs all alone, and I am running out of things to say to this beautiful stranger. I can’t hide behind Jane Austen and J. K. Rowling forever.
“Of course.” He nods toward Buttercup. “Best of luck with the dog that’s not yours. Don’t worry. I have a feeling she’ll warm up to you in no time.”
“You too.”What?
He lifts an amused brow.
I square my shoulders and do my best imitation of a person who engages in flirty banter on a somewhat regular basis. “I mean, thanks for the wizardry.”
“Anytime.”
I turn to head back to the room on shaky legs. The beauty queens linger on the paved walkway, pretending not to watch. But their laughter is too loud, too forced to be real. They’ve definitely been keeping tabs on our interaction, probably wondering what he sees in me.
To be honest, I’m wondering that myself.
He’s just being nice. It doesn’t mean anything.
But the heady feeling lingers, and I’m practically floating when I let myself into the hotel room and unclip Buttercup from her leash.
She jumps onto the bed and curls around Ginny with a sigh. At least my sister has gotten something out of this whole pageant mess. I’m 100 percent sure she only adopted that dog as part of her platform, but they look adorable together. Buttercup worships Ginny.
I’m happy Ginny has something real in her life, especially now. Or maybe I just want to believe that she’ll be okay without ever winning the crown in order to alleviate my nagging sense of guilt. I pull my cell phone from my pocket so I can call the airline and book our flights back to Texas, but my gaze snags on a framed photo on Ginny’s nightstand.
