Page 6 of Her Royal Daddy
With her, I definitely wanted to be.
I didn’t realize Jax had followed me until I looked up from her to find him hovering over us, not quite wringing his hands but definitely looking pained about something. His eyes shifted to the empty chairs across the table from us, to the long white couch, to the short couch behind the bar, and back to me again. Apparently, there was a rule somewhere about royalty becoming too chummy with regular folk and it was killing him that I didn’t immediately get up and find a more distant place to sit.
Well, I wasn’t royalty yet and, frankly, I didn’t much care to be.
Don’t out me, man, I ordered with my eyes.
Although pained, my father’s assistant dutifully accepted the message. He tipped his head in a nod of a bow and pretended to clear his throat. “Right, well then. Miss Baxter has accepted a position with our government. She will be staying at the palace and working closely with the king. Pr—uh, Mr. Mazi Tucker will be vacationing as a guest of the king until further notice. As you both come from the same city, I’m sure you’ll find you have lots in common.”
His grimace at the end there made me think he wasn’t exactly thrilled at the prospect of a prince having anything in common with an employee, but he wisely stayed silent on the matter.
I, however, was thrilled. Common ground made it easier to find ways to strike up conversation with the intriguing woman sitting in the chair beside mine. “Thank you, Jax. I’m sure we will. Could you get us a drink, please? A beer for me, and...” I hesitated, hoping I guessed correctly—it had been so dark inside the bar that night. “A Long Island Iced Tea for the lady?”
Norah smiled, but opened her mouth as if to decline. Just then, the plane rumbled into motion and we both jumped.
Eyes widening, she grabbed both armrests.
So did I, for that matter.
“Yes,” she gasped. “Why not? Perfect.” Snapping her mouth shut, she looked down the narrow length of the jet toward the closed cockpit door, then out the nearest window where I could see the tarmac moving beneath us, and then down at her hand. It wasn’t until she looked at me next that I realized I hadn’t just grabbed the armrest that divided our seats, I’d grabbed her hand too.
We both laughed a little awkwardly, and I reluctantly let go of her. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she demurred.
“Not a fan of planes?” Having never even seen the inside of a plane before today, I tried my best to keep my unease to myself. Especially since she looked nervous enough for both of us.
The plane bumped. It wasn’t going fast yet, but she gasped again and this time, it was she who grabbed my hand. She rolled her lips, casting a now openly worried glance out the window. She tried to smile for my benefit, but I could tell she was embarrassed. “Not really, no.”
“First time for me,” I confessed, hoping to make her feel better.
The plane really bumped this time, jostling both of us as well as the glasses secured under the bar where Jax was fixing our drinks.
“First time for the pilot, too,” I quipped.
She barked a startled laugh, her violet eyes full of gratitude. Instead of pulling my hand out of hers, I let her squeeze my fingers and shut her eyes tight when the plane turned onto the runway and lined up for takeoff. “Oh, my God, where’s that drink?” she groaned, then laughed again, embarrassed.
That was when I saw the faint yellow bruise barely visible on her upper eyelid. It was all around the outside of her eye, well-covered with a thick layer of makeup. The lighting at the club had been bad, but I was dead certain she hadn’t had a black eye a week ago.
My free hand clenched into a fist, and my jaw tightened. My stomach also sank straight through the chair I was on, because that was the moment the pilot chose to rush the jet down the runway. One more bounce and suddenly the tires lifted off the ground, my insides dropped through both my seat and the floor, and we were airborne.
Whoever had hit her, he was damn lucky not only that I didn’t know who he was, but also that I was on my way to a foreign country. Otherwise, I’d happily have hunted him down to return the black eye favor.
Like I was entitled to go all caveman over a woman I’d only just met after glimpsing her across a darkened strip-club floor, a part of me thought. Only Hallmark movies had premises that screwed up—minus the strip club, of course. I’d have rolled my eyes at myself if only I weren’t concentrating so hard on not losing my shit over just now unexpectedly leaving my stomach on the tarmac.
“Jesus,” I half laughed, pretty sure I was about to out myself as either a pansy or a coward. I cleared my throat. “All righty, then.”
Jax brought the drinks as soon as we stopped climbing and the jet leveled out, serving me first. “Your—”
He caught himself when I looked at him.
“Mazi,” he amended. Clearing his throat now too, he then handed Norah her iced tea. “Excuse me, I’ll see what I can do about encouraging the pilot to get his act together.”
Jax walked off toward the cockpit, pausing only once to grab the wall as we shuddered through a brief bout of turbulence. Grinning, I turned back to Norah, a ready joke on my lips, which I never got to say. Norah was knocking her drink back. Three long gulps and only the ice was left in her glass.
“Whoa,” I said, my hand automatically reaching for it, but it was too late. The glass was empty, which in and of itself would have been funny, if only she didn’t look quite so unnerved. Her face was pale, unsmiling, and her eyes were huge.
“I need my bag,” she gasped, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. “Where’s my bag? I need my bag.”
