Page 65 of Royal Icing
She whimpered. “Thank you. I’m so hungry. I’ve been baking test batches of macarons all day. And while they are delicious, they’re fairly devoid of substance.”
Leo pulled a chair out for her, and she sat. His fingers brushed against her arm, which just made him want to dive back in. He’d never had to fight for control merely from brushing against someone.
“I hope you like it. It’s one of Sal’s specialties.”
Emma leaned in and inhaled deeply. “Ooh, coq au vin? I love it.”
Leo poured a hefty glass of wine for both of them. Maybe it would help distract him from the curve of her breast behind the daringly low neckline.
“I didn’t hear from you this morning,” she said after a long sip of wine. “I thought you were reconsidering our…agreement.”
“Not at all. I had some meetings. And then I had to figure out the logistics of lugging a Christmas tree and a hundred candles to the greenhouse without being spotted.”
“I don’t know how you did it. It’s stunning,” she said, surveying the scene.
She was beautiful in the soft candlelight. Her blonde hair was out of the bun he normally saw it in, curling gently down her back. Lipstick the same shade as her dress was probably smeared on his face right now. It was going to be hard to focus on dinner.
“You didn’t have to do all this for me,” she added. “I’m low-maintenance.”
She speared a mushroom on her fork and hummed appreciatively. He paused for an instant. It was customary to wait until the royal family took the first bite to eat. How refreshing that she either didn’t know or didn’t care about the tradition. It was a stupid one.
“Our time is short, and you’re missing Christmas at home. I know it’s not the same as ice skating at Rockefeller Center or window shopping on Fifth Avenue, but I wanted to bring some magic to you.”
“Have you ever been to New York?”
“Not for many years,” he admitted.
“You’ll have to visit sometime. Maybe when Ruby goes to school. As long as you’re not busy with construction on the new community project—or your royal duties. Whatever those are.”
The idea of seeing her again was very enticing. Maybe their story didn’t end in a few days when she went home. Maybe there was another chapter. Or a lot of them.
“I’d like that,” he said.
Their eyes met over the tapered candles, and something lurched in his gut. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time.
Things were getting more serious than he intended. Messier. He barely knew her. She had arrived less than a week ago.
The warning signs were flashing all around him, but for some reason, he didn’t care.
“What’s your favorite dessert?” she asked over the sensual croon of “Santa Baby.” There was a shortage of sexy Christmas songs.
“My favorite dessert?” He was surprised by the question. The few women he had dated since Petra had seemed perpetually nervous and hadn’t asked a lot of questions. “Cheesecake,” he decided. They didn’t have a lot of it in the castle, as his mother couldn’t stand the texture of it. But when she went away, the previous royal baker would sneak it onto the menu.
“Oh my god,” Emma said. “I have the best recipe. It will knock your socks all the way off. Into a different dimension, even. It’s that good.”
Leo raised his eyebrows. “Dimension-transcending cheesecake.”
“That’s what I call it. When’s your birthday?” she asked.
“December thirteenth.”
She put her fork down. “Are you kidding me?” she asked. “Were you even going to tell me?”
“Why would I tell you when my birthday is?”
“It’s a week from now. And you’ve spent your entire life having your birthday overshadowed by Christmas.”
He shrugged. Maybe that’s where some of his resentment for the holiday had come from.
