Page 33 of Royally Matched

“No. It’s interesting,” I protest dreamily, despite knowing I should treat this conversation as nothing more than a planning meeting—and most certainly not a way to get to know who Marco is and what makes him tick.

“I’m glad you think so,” he replies, his gaze soft as it locks on mine. He holds my gaze for a beat too long, and I force myself to cast my eyes down to break the spell.

“Is that why you turned up here in your rubber boots?”

“I’m due at a project on the other side of town shortly.”

“In that case, we should press on.” I return my attention to my calendar. “We have a garden party coming up soon. We hold them during the summer months to honor leaders in the community, that sort of thing. Enzo could come to one of those.”

“A garden party sounds like something Enzo would enjoy,” he replies. “Tea with scones with jam and cream?”

“Of course.”

“Yep, totally my brother’s speed.”

“Good. Great.”

Marco takes a note of the date, and we move on to book similar events over the next few weeks, including going to the royal races and dinner with family—both his and mine, which of course means Marco will be there, but I decide to cross that bridge when I come to it. Who knows? I may well be over my ill-advised attraction to him by then.

Here’s hoping for everyone’s sake.

“Did you see that there is already chatter among journalists that I may be announcing an engagement soon?You might have seen Fabiana Fontaine’s column.” I’m testing the waters to see whether he saw what she wrote.

“Never read her, ma’am. But I suppose it’s a good thing people are talking about it, isn’t it? You can build suspense until the grand reveal.”

“You make it sound like we’re on a home makeover show.”

His brows ping up. “Do you watch home makeover shows?”

“Of course I do.”

“Huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing. I suppose I’ve never really thought about what princesses do in their downtime, but it turns out it’s watching home makeover shows.”

“And romcoms. I like to watch them, too, occasionally.”

Why am I telling him this? It feels too personal, too unguarded to share even a small amount of my personal life with this man. But for reasons I am not going to pick apart, I want him to know that I’m more than just Princess Sofia, first-born daughter of the King and Queen, currently seeking a husband.

“You see that I don’t get. Why watch a movie when you know the two main characters are going to end up falling in love and sail off into the sunset together? Isn’t it more exciting to keep you guessing, to not know what the outcome will be?” He pauses before he adds, “Ma’am.”

“You clearly don’t understand why people like to watch romcoms, Mr. Revera. Of course, we know the couple is going to end up together, but it’s the journey to get there that’s the enjoyable part.”

He shakes his head. “Give me a good action movie anyday of the week. Although I do admit to quite liking one romcom.”

“Which is?” I lead against my better judgment.

His smile stretches across his face. “Guess.”

I raise my brows at him in surprise.

“If you want to, that is, ma’am,” he adds hastily.

It’s becoming increasingly difficult to keep the pretence up of not liking this man. He may have strong opinions, but his easy demeanor and willingness to get along with me is disarming, and I find myself at ease with him.

I roll through the myriad of romcoms I’ve watched over the years, trying to work out what a landscape gardener whose nickname is Duck would like. “I’m guessing something with Ryan Gosling because men consider him to be cool. At least that’s what my brothers tell me. So, I’m guessingCrazy, Stupid Love.”

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