Page 12 of Royal Icing
Leo shot him a look.
“Art thieves aside,” Sal said, “I really wish you would find someone. Cal’s been on me about double-dating.”
“I’m sorry that my lack of dating life has been so difficult for you.”
Dating had never been easy for Leo. Even though he was an empty figurehead with no real power—doubly so since he was second in line to the throne—some women were entranced by his status as a royal. It made it impossible to tell who was interested in him as a person and who was just hoping to become a member of the royal family. The paparazzi that usually left him alone had been whipped into a frenzy when he started dating someone two years ago. They hounded her until she left the country—and the relationship. Since then, love had been on the back burner.
A low woof drew his attention to the sidewalk, where a striking woman was walking a Bernese mountain dog that was bigger than she was.
The hammer fell from his hand and clattered to the wooden boards. She jumped at the sound and turned, drawing the dog in closer.
A knot formed in his stomach. Why had she responded so strongly to an innocuous sound?
The woman surveyed the scene, then their eyes met over a mulled wine stand. She smiled sheepishly at him but didn’t curtsy. Interest flared. She didn’t recognize him. Or maybe shewasn’t a citizen. She definitely wasn’t someone he had seen around the village before.
There was a flush in her cheeks, but it was impossible to tell if it was from the cold or from embarrassment. She was short but must have been strong to control the dog. Her blonde hair was partially obscured by a black hat with a pompom.
The intrigue was instant. Magnetic.
But that was insane. He didn’t know her, and she probably didn’t want the attentions of some random guy. She could be married.
Oh, shit. She was about to walk into a light pole. He straightened up to warn her, but it was too late.
Thonk. Her head smacked the pole, and she fell to the ground.
Leo left everything and ran across the park, dodging a pretzel stand and skirting a field of fake trees.
He dropped to a knee beside her. “Are you all right?”
She was even lovelier up close. Her hair was long, straight, and the color of the wheat fields he ran through as a child. Her eyes were a striking shade of green.
“I’m fine,” she said.
Ah, American.
“Just incredibly mortified,” she added. She pressed a hand to her forehead and squinted with one eye.
“Can I get you some ice?” he asked.
She glanced around them. Snow was everywhere. Right, idiot.
“I’ll be fine,” she said warmly. She was talking fast. “Thank you for checking on me. Sorry to interrupt your—Cooper, no!”
The dog, who had been sniffing the edge of Leo’s jacket, had just lifted his leg. Leo’s arm grew warm.
She clambered to her feet and yanked the dog away.
“Oh my god. I’m so sorry. He’s never peed on anyone before.” Her fingers closed over the zipper on her black coat, which had a long rip that looked to be hand-stitched with red thread. “Here, take my coat.”
Leo laughed and shrugged out of his coat. The sun was shining, and he was sweaty from hammering boards anyway. “I’m fine. I don’t think we’re the same size.”
Now that they stood next to each other, he towered over her. She couldn’t have been much more than five feet tall.
Her eyebrows contracted. “You have a point. Well, I could buy you a new one or have it cleaned or?—”
He raised one hand. “It’s okay. I promise.” He bent down until he was eye level with the dog. “Just try not to pee on anyone else, okay?”
The dog licked his cheek in response and looked thoroughly unashamed.
