Page 14 of Some Like It Royal

Her stomach cramped and she sat straighter as Daniel rose and moved toward the sofa. He sat next to her, the soft fabric of his pants leg brushing against her bare thigh. Her skin crackled like the release of static electricity, but without the sting.

“Better, but Miss Dagmar shifted to the left a little. She didn’t turn to watch you nor did she smile.”

She wanted to embrace this activity—it was a learning experience—but impatience crawled through her at the judgment in his tone. “We’re just getting started on this?—”

“No, you’ve been dating for months, secretly indulging in an affair that presumably has left you crazy for each other. You should crave his nearness, enjoy his touch and reciprocate. When he leans in, so should you. When he touches you, you should touch him. Romance is more that soft kisses and headlines. It’s body language. Neither of you have the right body language.” He tapped a finger against the folder.

“Are you interested in this challenge, Mr. Russell?” Daniel traced a finger down her thigh and she didn’t dare move, although just the brush of his knuckles left tingles in its wake. It took every ounce of willpower to not bolt. The “no sex” rule, however, couldn’t apply in public. They had to look like they’d had sex.

Lots of it.

How else would they appear comfortable together?

“I think I would enjoy it. I have the standard nondisclosure agreements for all of us, and your attorney has mine on file. It looks like we’ll be spending a lot of time together, you should clear your schedule, Mr. Voldakov. Miss Dagmar, why don’t you take his hand while we talk? You need to get used to being able to touch each other casually without reacting negatively to the contact.”

The weight of two stares bore down on her. One of her acting classes relied heavily on breathing technique. Controlled respiration allowed an actor to handle uncomfortable moments without looking uncomfortable. Her instructor’d reminded them frequently that roles demanded intimacy, the ability to kiss, touch and sell a relationship that didn’t necessarily exist anywhere but the screen.

I can do this.She forced her fingers to unlock from each other and dropped her right hand to cover his. His knuckles rubbed her leg as he turned his hand over, catching her palm to palm. Electricity sizzled through her.

Breathe in through the nose and out through the mouth.

Reciting that mantra over and over, she gave Russell a triumphant look. A smile barely curled his lips.

“Starting today, whenever the two of you are together, you need to be touching. Hand on a shoulder, arms around each other, hand in hand—whatever it takes. Constant contact will increase the natural flow of it.” He flipped the cover of the tablet open. “Let’s say we’ll meet each morning at ten? Review how the two of you are doing. Afternoons, I’ll spend with Miss Dagmar. I’ll bring in a personal shopper and we can expand her wardrobe. We’ll also need a consultation on cosmetics, a jeweler… Do you have a ring for her?”

Daniel released her hand and stood. He produced a slender platinum band with a teardrop-shaped diamond. He reached for her hand and her fingers trembled. He slid it slowly onto the third finger of her left hand. She watched the band glide over her knuckle. A shiver of apprehension zinged through her and she couldn’t help holding her hand up to examine at the ring.

Despite everything she’d said about not being interested in the jewelry, possessiveness swarmed up at the solitaire twinkling in the morning light. “It’s beautiful.” The word rode out on a sigh.

“Perfect.” Russell applauded and jolted her back to the sitting room—the acting coach, and the billionaire paying her to be his fiancée.

Her hand dropped back to her leg and Daniel reclaimed the other one, but the warmth flooding through her veins cooled. The diamond was a beautiful prop. An exquisitely beautiful prop and she’d fallen for it. “What’s next?”

Less than an hourafter Russell arrived, Daniel abandoned her to take some phone calls. She watched him leave with more than a little apprehension. Russell’d interrogated them, going over how they met, where their first date had been, correcting them whenever they fumbled or didn’t deliver the line with the right amount of emotion.

“Is he a good lover?” Russell asked, the bald bluntness of the question smashing her distraction.

“I’m sorry?” She glared at him—lesson or not, that was hardly an appropriate question.

“I like it.” He tipped his head critically. “A little too much outrage, because those questions will come up. But the imperious note fits the situation.”

“You really think that someone is going to ask me if Daniel is a good lover?”

Is he?

“Absolutely, someone from the press is bound to ask you inappropriate questions. It’s the nature of the game. Let’s take a break from this, however, and work on your walk.” He rose and she followed him, grateful for the reprieve. He tucked the folder into his briefcase. “I’ll wait while you change.”

“What’s wrong with this?” Granted, her clothing wasn’t elegant, but she needed some modicum of comfort.

“You look like a teenager heading to the Santa Monica pier to cruise for boys, not a princess receiving morning visitors.”

“Okay, I get the touching thing, the sitting up thing, the ring thing. But no one can see us, so why do I need to dress up?”

“Not an unfair question.” He rebuttoned his suit jacket and faced her. “A princess, however, has no off time. She is always to be presented at her absolute best. You must act as though you are always on display, because when word leaks that a very real princess lives here, you will be. The staff will watch you, the press will watch you and Daniel will watch you. That type of scrutiny is a burden and your manners, your appearance and your attitude must all become second nature or you risk slipping at the wrong moment.”

Russell made a fair point. This was the type of method acting she’d craved, butallthe time?

“Okay.” It would take some mental as well as physical adjustment. The agreement was that she live the part, but she’d naturally presumed behind closed doors she would have a break. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

---