HOLIDAY ROYALE Read Free Page B

dragged him to her sewing room and showed him several of her creations, after which she’d plunked her portfolio down on the cutting table and started flipping through the pages, chattering nonstop about her ambitions as a fashion designer.
    Now she gazed at him through big eyes full of hope and trust. “Oh, you do know how to dish out the compliments.”
    “It’s easy when I’m only telling the absolute truth.”
    “Oh, right. Sure you are.”
    He turned his mouth down at the corners in a mimic of sadness. “Luce. You wound me.”
    She started to giggle—and then she blinked. “Wait a minute.”
    “Yes?”
    “Are you telling me that, um, you will? ”
    Ouch. Leave it to Lucy to cut right to the heart of the matter.
    The thing was, he wanted to tell her yes, that he would be her lover. He truly did. But he was no more a seducer of virgins than Brandon of the butterscotch eyes. He absolutely did find her attractive, but in the way one finds a child attractive, because she was pure and honest, innocent and sweet yet also funny and surprising and perceptive, too. Not to mention splendidly talented. However, he couldn’t quite make himself think of her as a grown woman, as an eligible female he might take to his bed.
    She was watching him suspiciously. “Long silence. I’m taking that for a no.”
    Above all, he did not want to hurt her. “You truly are lovely, Luce. Your shining seal-brown hair, those enormous eyes that tip up so playfully at the corners. That one dimple in your left cheek that’s deeper than the one on the right when you smile....”
    “You’re an absolute genius at making me feel good-looking.”
    “Because you are good-looking.”
    “But you still haven’t answered my question,” she accused. “I’m thinking that’s not a good sign.”
    The solution came to him. “Tell you what.”
    For that he got an eye roll. “Stalling. That’s what you’re doing, right?”
    “Well, yes. I suppose that I am.”
    “Oh, I knew it.” She wrinkled her cute nose at him. But at least she no longer seemed on the verge of shedding more tears.
    He qualified, “However, I am stalling in a good way.”
    “Ha.” She made another attempt to free her hand from his hold.
    He didn’t let go. “Listen. Please.”
    “Fine, fine.” She tipped her head from side to side, her words a singsong. “Go ahead.”
    “We’ll take things a bit slower.”
    That brought a frown to crease her smooth brow. “Slower than what?”
    “You’re here for the holiday weekend.”
    “I am, yes.”
    “We’ll spend the time—or much of it, anyway—in each other’s company.”
    “You mean like we’re dating?”
    “Yes. As though we were dating.”
    “Oh, Dami. I may be naive, but I’m so on to you. I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to let me down easy.”
    She had it right, but he had no intention of admitting that. “Come to the kitchen.” He tugged on her hand again. “We can finish our coffee....” He expected her to require more coaxing and encouragements before she’d agree to sit at the table again and discuss the situation frankly.
    But as she so often did, she surprised him. She said, “Yes. All right.” And she followed him back the way they had come.
    * * *
    In the kitchen, Lucy reclaimed her seat at the table and Dami refreshed their coffee cups before settling opposite her again.
    Lucy watched him. He really was so nice to look at, in his sexy black robe and all, with that slice of sculpted chest on view, with his thick dark hair and his eyes that sometimes seemed the darkest brown and then, in certain lights, a green so deep it was almost black. So different from Brandon, who was clean-cut and outdoorsy with a handsome, open sort of face. Dami exuded power and ease, a hint of danger and strangely, humor and tenderness, too. They called him the Player Prince. Everyone said he’d been with more women than her big brother, Noah. Which was seriously saying something.
    Noah used to be