My grandfather wasn’t the only one. The press and public went wild for the photos of us at the ice-skating rink, and everyone was already buzzing about our “burgeoning relationship” even though I’d spoken to Steffan twice in my life.
Still, Elin insisted I capitalize on the attention with another date. It would be a “private” one with no reporters—to give the illusion of intimacy—but would later “leak” to the press. I agreed, if only because she was right. The Part-Time Princess headlines had disappeared, replaced by breathless speculation over the new “love” in my life.
If only they knew.
On paper, Steffan would make the perfect husband. He was good-looking, intelligent, kind, and funny, and he was by far the best option out of the so-called eligible bachelors who’d attended my birthday ball.
There was only one problem: no chemistry.
None. Zip. Nada.
I had as much romantic interest in Steffan as I did the succulent plant in my room.
“It’s because you haven’t kissed him yet,” Mikaela said when I told her about my dilemma. “At least kiss the man. You can tell everything based on one kiss.”
She may be right.
So, at the end of my second date with Steffan, I worked up the nerve to kiss him, even though it seemed far too soon. But he was leaving for Preoria tomorrow, and I needed to know if this would go anywhere. I couldn’t spend weeks wondering.
“I must admit, I was surprised you wanted to meet again so soon after our first date.” He gave me a shy smile. “Pleasantly surprised, that is.”
We walked through the Royal Botanic Gardens’ large, heated greenhouse. Lush flowers bloomed around every corner, scenting the air with their sweet perfume, and strings of lights twinkled overhead like tiny stars. It was as romantic a setting as one could hope for, and I tried to focus on Steffan instead of the scowling bodyguard shadowing our every move.
If looks could kill, Rhys would’ve put Steffan six feet in the ground by now.
That was another reason I was hesitant to kiss Steffan. It seemed…wrong to do that in front of Rhys.
God, I wished I’d thought this through beforehand.
“I had fun,” I said when I realized I hadn’t responded yet. “Thanks for agreeing even though I’m sure you’re busy preparing for your trip tomorrow.”
“Of course.”
Steffan smiled.
I smiled.
My palms slicked with sweat.
Just do it. One tiny kiss. You have nothing to feel guilty about. You and Rhys aren’t dating.
“I’m not sure why, but I have the strangest desire to give a rundown of all the fun facts I know about flowers,” Steffan said. “Did you know tulips were worth more than gold in seventeenth-century Holland? Literally.”
That’s what happens when I’m nervous. I start spouting all sorts of useless facts.
A subtle hint from Steffan he wanted a kiss too. He had no reason to be nervous otherwise.
I discreetly wiped my palms on my skirt. Don’t look at Rhys. If I did, I would never go through with it.
“That’s fascinating.” I winced when I realized that was the sort of answer someone gave when they found the subject anything but interesting. “Truly.”
Steffan laughed. “I’m afraid there’s only one way to stop me from boring you death with my floral knowledge, Your Highness,” he said somberly.
“What’s that?” I asked, distracted by the sensation of Rhys’s gaze burning a hole in my side.
“This.” Before I could react, Steffan’s lips were on mine, and even though I knew the kiss was coming, I was still so stunned I could only stand there.
He tasted faintly of mint, and his lips were soft as they brushed against mine. It was a nice, sweet kiss, the kind cameras zoomed in on in movies and most women swooned over.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t one of them. I might as well be kissing my pillow.
Disappointment crashed into me. I’d hoped a kiss would change things, but it only confirmed what I already knew. Steffan, for all his wonderful traits, wasn’t for me.
Maybe I was na?ve for thinking I could find a fiancé to whom I was attracted to and whose company I enjoyed, but I was only in my twenties. No matter how much everyone tried to rush me, I wasn’t ready to give up on my hope for love yet.
I finally gathered enough of my wits to pull back, but before I could, a loud crash shattered the silence in the greenhouse.
Steffan and I jumped apart, and my eyes fell on Rhys, who stood next to a broken pot of lilies.
“My hand slipped.” His voice held not an ounce of apology.
That was, for lack of a better term, utter crap. Rhys didn’t slip. He may be larger than the average person, but he moved with the lethal grace of a panther.
That was what he reminded me of right now—a panther preparing to pounce on unwitting prey. Taut face, coiled muscles, and eyes trained with laser intensity on Steffan, who shifted with discomfort beneath his stare.
“Attention all guests, the gardens are closing in fifteen minutes.” The announcement blared over the PA system, savings from the most awkward moment of my life. “Please make your way to the exits. The gardens are closing in fifteen minutes. Visitors in the gift shop, please finalize your purchases.”
“I guess that’s our cue.” Steffan held out his arm with a smile, though he kept a wary eye on Rhys. “Shall we, Your Highness?”
We’d booked the greenhouse for ourselves, though the rest of the gardens remained open to the public. We could probably stay longer if we wanted, but I had no desire to drag out the night.
I took Steffan’s arm and walked to the exit, where we said goodbye with a stilted half-hug, half-kiss on the cheek and promises to meet up again when he returned to Athenberg.
Rhys and I didn’t speak until we reached our car.
“You’re paying for the flowerpot,” I said.
“I’ll take care of it.”
The parking lot was empty except for a handful of cars in the distance, and tension rolled between us, so thick I could practically taste it.
“I know he fits the image of Prince Charming, but you might want to keep looking.” Rhys unlocked the car doors. “I’ve seen you kiss a cat with more passion.”
“Is that why you knocked over the lilies?”
“My. Hand. Slipped,” he bit out.
Maybe it was the wine I’d had at dinner, or the stress was getting to me. Whatever it was, I couldn’t help it—I burst into laughter. Wild, hysterical laughter that left me gasping for breath and clutching my stomach right there in the middle of the parking lot.
“What the hell is so funny?” Rhys’s grumpy tone only made me laugh harder.
“You. Me. Us.” I wiped tears of mirth from my eyes. “You’re an ex-Navy SEAL and I’m royalty, and we’re in such denial we might as well apply for Egyptian citizenship.”
He didn’t crack a smile at my admittedly lame attempt at a joke.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Stop it.” I was tired of fighting. “I asked you before, and I’m asking you again. Why did you come back, Mr. Larsen? The real answer this time.”
“I gave you the real answer.”