Page 46 of Savannah Royals
Dangerous, dangerous.
For my own safety, I pull away. And because I’m a coward, I lighten my tone, desperate for levity. “Well, from one serf to another then, I suppose I’m prepared for an introduction.”
Matthew smiles, full white teeth and dimples. “You’ll be brilliant. There’s nothing to be nervous about, they don’t bite…well, sometimes my brother does,” he admits, “but he’s mostly harmless.”
Without waiting for my reply, Matthew stoops to pick up a box of watermelons by his feet. He shifts the weight to his hip so he can manage it with one arm, then he grabs my hand, towing me forward.
His mother tracks our approach with sharp eyes. “Matthew, dear,” she calls, “right here.” She points beside her feet for the box, her gaze lingering on our joined hands. “Miss Quinn, wonderful to see you. How are you, dearest?”
“Good afternoon, Lady Genevieve. It’s nice to see you too.” I slip into my Academy training. “Everything is quite well, thank you.”
“Andrew.” She swats her husband’s arm. “Andrew!”
The patriarch of the DaMolin family glances up from the melon he’s slicing.
“Andrew, darling, this is Katarina Quinn.” She looks hard at her husband, trying to convey significance. “She’s in her final year at the Academy.”
“Good afternoon, sir.” I sink into a brief curtsy, but he holds out a hand to stop me. In the corner of my eye, Ethan smirks.
“That’s not necessary, I assure you.” Andrew turns to his wife. “Are you really still teaching them to curtsy at the Academy? That’s quite antiquated, darling. Do we need to overhaul the curriculum?”
As his father speaks, Ethan’s eyes flicker between his brother and me, assessing. He steps forward. “Hello, Katarina. I’m confident my reputation precedes me—Captain Ethan DaMolin, infamous heir to the DaMolin empire.” He smiles impishly. “Do I get a curtsy too?”
“Ethan!” his mother hisses.
“Only jesting.” He extends his palm. “I’m Ethan, Matt’s older, infinitely more dilly brother.”
“I’m Katarina.” I take his hand. “Matthew’s younger but still infinitely more dilly friend.”
Ethan graces me with a sultry laugh. He knocks his brother on the arm, but his eyes stay zeroed in on me. “Shall we take a promenade, Katarina? Matt, buzz off for a tick to help Mom and Dad.”
“Not a chance,” Matthew says.
“Did he tell you I’m nice?” Ethan suddenly turns to me. “I’m perfectly nice. I’ll bring you right back to him so you can do more of that adorable hand-holding in just a few minutes.”
Matthew glowers at his brother.
“Actually, he told me you bite,” I reply. “But that’s hardly a problem. So do I.”
Ethan throws his head back and guffaws, then punches Matthew’s arm again. “Where in tarnation did you find a dame like her?” he chides his brother. “Are you a masochist? I don’t pull your leg enough?”
“I guess not.” Matthew’s response is dry.
“All right, you know what? I’ll let it slide this time. All three of us can go. This will be simply grand.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Asourpromenadebegins,I’m bundled in the center, flanked by Ethan and Matthew. Strolling as a unit, we head down to the pebbly beach.
“So, Katarina, my brother doesn’t have manyfriends.” Ethan emphasizes the last word. “Are you aware he works all the time?Literally, all the time. Since he was eighteen.”
I shrug. “His work ethic, the thing he’s most passionate about? That’s where you’re hitting him? Try again.”
Ethan smiles. “Passionate, huh? Tell me, Miss Katarina, what exactly do you know of my brother’s passions? Could you, perchance, be speaking from personal experience?”
“Ethan,” Matthew warns. “Out of bounds.”
“No, it’s fine.” I put a hand on Matthew’s arm. “Actually, Ethan, your brother is a perfect gentleman. To a fault.”
