Page 8 of A Girl and HER Prince
Livvy’s heart seemed to freeze then drop, and what was that?—flutter? Livvy straightened in dismay, not liking her emotions betraying her like this in the least.
He was just some guy, after all!
As he came closer, Livvy noticed the high cheekbones that had always given Venice his sensitive look, and there was that deep dimple—the one that she’d tried to emphasize in the vlogs when he wasn’t on the outs with Deedee.
“If you don’t mind…” Turner interrupted her rude gawking. The bodyguard gave Livvy an apologetic look before turning a sterner one on Deedee. “I need to clear this.”
Livvy felt herself relax as Turner headed for his boss. No way would the prince allow his ex aboard a pleasure cruise clearly meant to be his getaway from the real world—this misguided detour of Deedee’s would just go down as another one of their misadventures, and then they could run far away from this handsome troublemaker who made her heart do weird, pathetic butterfly flutters.
What is that anyway?
“Maybe we shouldn’t make ourselves too comfortable yet,” Livvy told Deedee.
Her friend’s brow raised at the challenge and she crooked her finger at one of the servants. “Take our bags please.” She threw as many of them as she could into the man’s surprised arms. “Put them in your finest…nearestavailable rooms.”
Deedee was sending him on a fool’s errand. No way was this getting cleared.
Meanwhile, Venice Mnon Tyndarian was laughing at something that the glaring, blonde bathing beauty was shouting up at him. He leaned back from her, stuffing his hands in the pockets of burnt-orange board shorts, doing his best to play host with a pleasant expression and a faraway look—something she’d seen her brothers do when they were humoring Grandma Sunny.
And no! The unwelcome comparison made her like him, and she didn’t want to… especially since he’d broken Deedee’s heart.
The instant Turner reached the prince, Venice spun around. He must’ve caught sight of Deedee because he froze.
Great! Cue the fireworks.
The duke nudged Venice, laughing with derision as he glanced over at them. The prince didn’t look as amused. He lost no time breaking away from his role as host to come their way.
Even worse, those strange hypnotic hazel eyes were locked onto them in fury. Deedee had once explained that the remarkable color was exclusive to the Tyndarian royalty, but the golden hue blazed like a fire in their prince. No scruffiness could hide the passion those held.
In Venice, the deep hazel only seemed to give him the appearance of being in anguish.
A weird description, but it was the only way Livvy could explain it to herself as she’d edited his videos. The guy hadseentragedy and it twisted at her heart.
And she didn’t want to think about any of this.
Livvy stepped back. Her hand was frozen on Deedee’s camera phone. What would cause less of a scene? Abruptly ending the feed or seeing this through?
In the end, she let out a sigh that perhaps revealed too much of her helplessness to their viewers. Deedee was the social media expert. If she wanted the controversy then Livvy would just have to pick up the pieces afterwards.
Venice was the first to reach her. Livvy lifted her eyes from the phone to see the real man in front of the lens. Her traitorous heart fluttered again.
She was starting to get really annoyed with herself.
In person, he was very uh… virile? Um, yeah, definitely, and thiswasgoing viral and all that awful cancel culture stuff that Deedee probably wanted. Wriggling in shame, Livvy shifted, even as the duke stepped in front of the camera to cut off the feed from the prince.
“Where are you going, honey?” Achilles drawled. His voice belonged to the bad boy she’d imagined he was—deep with a hint of British, gruff, edgy. She inched back. “Don’t run away,” he said. “Things are about to get good.”
“What are you doing?” Venice knocked him back before turning his intimidating Tyndarian gaze on her. “Let her breathe already.”
Had the infamous prince really come to her rescue?
Surprising, since he was supposed to be such a big meanie and Livvy had been the one to trespass his ship.
“It’s your call,” the duke said, breaking into a grin that seemed more natural to his face. He threw his hands up in surrender. “Smile pretty for the camera then. She’s recording this.”
Venice’s brooding eyes pierced Livvy through as if he was assessing her soul, before he took a deep breath and peered past her shoulder at Deedee. “Are we really doing this?” His British accent was more pronounced in his rage.
Chapter Four
