Page 37 of Ruthless Royalty

I take his hand, shaking it firmly. His skin is warm, his grip solid, and for a moment, I wonder what the hell I’m getting myself into. But then he winks at me, and that playful energy between us sparks again, chasing away the doubts.

“Now, finish up your painting,” he says, giving me a gentle nudge. “You’ve got a date to get ready for.”

I roll my eyes again but pick up my brush, turning back to the canvas. He moves back to his own easel, but I can feel his eyes on me. It’s distracting as hell, but I don’t mind. It’s not the possessive kind of stare, not the kind where I feel like I’m being burned from the inside out.

The minutes tick by, the silence between us comfortable as we both focus on our work. But no matter how hard I try to concentrate, my mind keeps drifting back to what he said.

A date. With Leo. I never would’ve seen that coming, not in a million years. But the idea doesn’t excite me like it should. Is that wrong?

When I finally finish, I step back, wiping my hands on a rag as I take in the painting. It’s rough, unfinished, but there’s something raw and honest about it. I like it. I feel a sense of satisfaction that I haven’t felt in a while, like I’ve managed to get a piece of myself onto the canvas.

Leo’s still working on his; his strokes fluid and confident. I watch him for a moment, the way he moves with a kind of ease that’s almost hypnotic. He’s always so sure of himself, so comfortable in his own skin, and I wonder what that feels like.

Finally, he sets his brush down and steps back, wiping his hands on his jeans as he turns to me. “Ready?”

I nod, feeling a small flutter of nerves in my stomach. “Yeah, I guess so.”

He grins, grabbing his jacket from where it’s draped over a chair. “Come on, then. Time for your surprise.”

I follow him out of the studio, my curiosity growing with each step. He leads me through the estate, down a path I haven’t taken before. The sun is starting to set; the sky painted in shades of pink and orange, casting a warm glow over everything.

We walk in silence for a while, the sound of our footsteps the only noise. I steal glances at him out of the corner of my eye, trying to figure out what’s going on in that head of his. But as usual, he’s hard to read, his expression calm and relaxed.

Finally, we reach a small clearing, and I stop in my tracks, my eyes widening in surprise. There’s a blanket spread out on the grass, a picnic basket sitting on top of it, along with a few candles that have already been lit. The flickering flames cast a soft light over the scene, making it look almost magical.

“You did this?” I ask, my voice laced with disbelief.

He shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. “Told you it was a surprise.”

I stare at him for a moment, trying to wrap my head around it. This isn’t what I expected—not even close. I thought maybe he’d take me to one of the fancier parts of the estate, or maybe try to sneak us off somewhere to be alone.

But this … this is different. It’s thoughtful in a way that catches me off guard.

“You did all this without knowing if I’d say yes?” I ask, nudging him playfully with my shoulder and he grins.

“I just had to work my charm a little bit,” he says with a wink, and I can’t help but chuckle at his honesty.

I walk over to the blanket, crouching down to run my fingers over the edge of the fabric. It’s soft, like it was chosen specifically for comfort. I look up at him, my heart pounding a little harder than it should be.

“You’re full of surprises, Leo,” I say, trying to keep my tone light.

He grins, sitting down on the blanket and patting the spot next to him. “Just wait until you see what I packed.”

I sit down beside him, my curiosity piqued. He opens the basket, pulling out a bottle of wine and a couple of glasses, followed by a variety of snacks—cheese, crackers, fresh fruit, and some chocolates.

“You went all out, didn’t you?” I ask, impressed despite myself.

He chuckles, uncorking and pouring the wine into the glasses. “Only the best for the girl I’ve had my eye on for a while.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips. “You’re such a flirt.”

“Guilty as charged,” he says, handing me a glass.

We clink our glasses together, the sound soft and melodic in the quiet of the clearing. I take a sip of the wine, savoring the rich taste as it slides down my throat. It’s good—better than I expected.

“So,” I say, leaning back on my hands and looking up at the sky. “Is this your go-to move? Wooing women with picnics and wine?”

He laughs, shaking his head. “Nope. This is afirst, actually.”

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