Page 13 of Some Like It Royal

Round two would arrive as soon as she went downstairs.

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DANIEL

Daniel checked his list for the third time and glanced at his watch. She’d lingered in the shower far past the ten minutes he’d instructed. On the one hand, he liked that she enjoyed the house, more because she didn’t have to sleep in her car. On the other, he had two back-to-back video conferences and he wanted to go over the list before they started.

Breakfast on Theresa’s off days was fruit, fresh croissants delivered from a local bakery and coffee. He drank his third cup and switched the tablet’s screen over to his schedule. He would have to talk to Lucy about rearranging the next few days. The Tokyo meetings couldn’t be put off, but most of those were scheduled for three and four in the morning.

The squeak of tennis shoes sliding on tile floor announced the arrival of the prospective princess. “Remember to skip the hop down the stairs tomorrow morning.” He didn’t glance up in case she saw amusement in his face. Her first morning, she’d slid down the banister. Straddled itandslid down. He’d stood in the shadow of the living room, certain she’d seen him, but when she hesitated and looked around before throwing her leg over and riding the rail down, he’d realized she hadn’t.

For just a moment, her expression had turned radiant and open. He saw the laughter in her smile and pure joy in the sparkle of her eyes. It took his breath away. He should have chastised her, but he didn’t want to erase that whimsical moment.

Not for anything.

“I know.” She drew out the words dramatically and tiptoed over to the table. “I will be light as a feather. You won’t know I’m here.”

“I doubt that.” He always knew when she was in the room, whether she sat and drank her coffee quietly or flipped through the paper with the speed of a child searching for the comics. She filled every room with her sheer presence. Even if his P.I. hadn’t tracked down her birth certificate and traced her parents, he would have known she was something special.

“Don’t worry. I do actually know how to walk. I’m just tired and not particularly looking forward to having my every move watched.” She sat in the chair to his right, one bare leg crossing over the other. Despite two shopping trips, she still wore her own clothes.

“And don’t look at me like that. There’s no staff here and this Victor person knows what we are—I’m not on display.” She munched on a croissant and reached over to snatch the paper, pulling out the trade section.

He put a finger on the corner. “List first. Paper second.”

“Yes, sir. Right away, sir.” She wiped her fingers on a napkin and accepted the digital tablet. He scrolled it back to the list and waited as she read. She pulled one leg onto the chair, her sneakered foot resting on the fabric and her chin on her knee, toes tapping.

She never quite sat still. A multitude of expressions washed over her face as she read. They traveled like lightning, or Santa Ana wind propelled clouds. Curiosity, surprise, irritation, amusement—every new emotion chased away the first. “You’re worried about eating in public with me? Do I chew with my mouth open or something?”

“No.” He nodded to her leg. “But Victor wanted a very specific list of what might make us uncomfortable. You don’t seem to mind how you sit on furniture.”

Her foot hit the floor with a thump and she gave him a long, hard stare. “Would you like me to pretend that we have company now?”

“It wouldn’t hurt.” He found her quirks charming, but they wouldn’t win them points with the press. Not with a long line of royal darlings like the Princesses Grace, Caroline, Diana and Kate. If not for the charade they had to perform, he wouldn’t mind.

Alyx shifted in the seat, her posture straightened and she crossed one leg over the other. Her chin came up, coolness breezed over her eyes and her eyebrow lifted. Despite the tank top, shorts and ponytail, she radiated elegance. “Happy?”

“Incredibly.” He leaned back in the chair and steepled his fingertips together. She took his breath away, fresh scrubbed without any trace of cosmetics. He could stare at her all day just to see the next bluster of emotion blow through, but the clock ticked and they had work to do. The EU contract bids would begin accepting proposals within six months according to all his sources. Once he had a launching pad into that market, he could afford to indulge other whims.

He forced himself to focus and tapped the digital tablet. “What makes you uncomfortable?”

Chapter6

Alyx

Victor Russell was not what she expected.

He stood just over six feet in height, and his ice-blue eyes coupled with his stern expression showed little emotion. Steel-gray hair crowned his head and he wore an impeccable suit. He’d taken a seat in the wing-back chair occupied by Martin during their last meeting after she shook his hand. Daniel sat to his left while she, once again, sat alone on the sofa. She leaned forward, hands clasped and elbows on her knees.

For some reason, the flutters in her stomach increased every moment the man remained silent. She knew him by reputation only—star maker, mover and a shaker. He didn’t work on movies, scripts or television. He worked on the actors. He was the premiere acting coach on the West Coast, in high demand on the East, liked to pick and choose his clients, and that exclusive list was not for public consumption, either.

Closing a cover on his digital tablet, the man caught her staring. He lifted his chin and studied her. Sitting up straighter, she pushed her shoulders back. “Mr. Voldakov, what you’re asking for is going to take an inordinate amount of time and attention to detail.” Each clearly enunciated word pronounced judgment. Skepticism ran rampant in his tone. “Miss Dagmar, here, has potential, but this is not just a role she can put on and shed. Nor, for that matter, can you. You will have to inhabit it, live and breathe it, day in and day out.”

“We are aware of that.” Daniel met his steel-laced doubt with a calmness she envied. “We’re also one hundred percent on board. Aren’t we, Alyx?”

“Absolutely.” But her smile faltered as Mr. Russell turned those laser-beam eyes on her.

“Alyx? Not darling or sweetheart? Or some other drippy pet name?” He transferred the hard look back to Daniel. “You’resitting over there.She’son the sofa. She has her hands clasped so hard together her knuckles are white. Yours are gripping the chair and you’ve got a pinched look to your smile. A physical gulf between you is interpreted as emotional distance. If you want to sell this, you have to be comfortable touching and being close.”

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