Page 11 of Some Like It Scandalous
“We have a meeting at nine, Your Highness, to discuss the scholarship fund.” And that was all. Even with the outrage andfury armoring her bruised heart, his concern managed to find a chink. She needed to shore that up.
Now.
“Yes, but this is a little more pressing?—”
She cut him off. “If by pressing you mean annoying, invasive, and stretching the boundaries of credulity, then you would be absolutely correct. Goodbye, Your Highness.” She shut the phone off and set it down on the seat next to her. It rang again. The number identified Tower One and she looked at Kyle. “Will you get in trouble ifIignore it?”
“No, ma’am.” One corner of his mouth quirked, but she didn’t know him well enough to identify it as a real smile or not.
She declined the call.
It rang again. She hit the ignore button again.
She repeated the process four more times before they arrived at the tower and drove down into a parking garage. A private gate rolled open and the standing security waved them through. The shadowy garage blocked out the morning brightness and she pushed up her sunglasses with reluctance. She preferred the shield they provided, but she could hardly get away with them indoors.
They parked next to a bank of elevators and two more plainclothes security guards stood at either end. Uneasiness spread through her. When she arrived at the Petersburg Tower the day before, she’d passed through a relatively normal level of security scrutiny, but this seemed over the top.
Kyle exited first, then opened her door.
“Is something else going on?” She stepped out and frowned. Even in the deep recess of the parking garage, the men ranged out around her and she had only a few feet to cross into the waiting elevator.
“Nothing to worry about, Miss Novak.” Kyle gave her a polite, if encouraging, smile and gestured to the elevator. He heldher file box in one hand and she returned his phone to him before she picked up her laptop bag. Inside, he inserted a key and pressed a button and the doors closed and they swooped upward.
At the top, the doors opened onto a cream-colored hallway.
No security guards in sight.
Kyle braced the doors to let her exit. He led her down the hall to the only door and knocked.
It swung inward and the Grand Duke Armand Dagmar waited—dressed in a blue button-down sans jacket and tie. Unlike the day before, his tidy hair fell in a sway toward his eyes. Her fingers itched to comb it back where it belonged. His tight expression eased when he looked at her, then he reached out to take the case from Kyle.
“Thank you, Johnson.”
“Of course, sir.”
Belatedly she realized Kyle’s job was over. He would leave her alone with the prince.
Oddly disappointed, she summoned a smile. “Thank you, Kyle.”
“My pleasure, Miss Novak. When you’re ready to go, just ring down and we’ll have your car ready.” That sounded odd, particularly since her car remained parked in the garage at her house, but she let it go.
Her gaze collided with Armand’s and they stood there, silently, until the elevator closed behind Kyle.
“Come in…please?” He seemed to tack that word on as an afterthought.
She stepped around him and into…his apartment. The gorgeous suite couldn’t be anything else—from the sunken living room and ninety-inch flat-screen television to the bank of windows offering an even better view of the city than his officepossessed. She hadn’t realized he actually lived in the tower—but the European aristocrat must need someplace to call home.
“May I take your jacket?” His hands touched her shoulders lightly and she forced herself not to flinch.
“No. Youmaynot.” Forging ahead, she walked over to a table set up in the corner and set her bags down. Stripping off her own jacket, she hung it on the back of a chair, then went to work setting up her files.
“Anna…”
“I am here to do my job, Your Highness. If you don’t want to work, I can ring down for Kyle and leave.” Her voice didn’t quiver once.
“Anna.” He scowled, irritation darkening his tone. He hated to repeat himself. Charlie was never calm or collected. He laughed out loud, he argued with fervor, made love with vigor, and even yelled when the occasion warranted it.
Dammit, he’s not Charlie and he never was.
