Page 85 of The Dandelion Princess
His voice is almost too low to hear. “You’re crossing a line.”
I reach for the tumbler and take a swallow. Noah draws a sharp breath. A reset. We’re dissecting his love life, but what would he say if I told him that I need to figure out a way to keep Ella from leaving the country?
My responsibilities spread across several businesses, trade organizations, and the estate, and I used to think it would be impossible to balance and bear them all. With Ella, everything seems easier.
“My sister mentioned Alix’s proposal for Lindenholm,” Noah says. This isn’t my biggest problem, but it’s simpler to let him think it is.
“Ella wants me to take Alix up on her offer.” I lean back in the bar chair, swirling the amber liquid against the ice, and let myself feel the drag of temptation. “Lindenholm is too big for a dozen families, never mind one bachelor.”
“But?”
“But my mother sacrificed decades to the running of it, and what is it going to look like when I put it on my sister’s shoulders now that it’s finally my turn?” I shake my head. “It’s selfish.”
“Alix wouldn’t be taking on all of it, and she is a grown woman—”
“Hey, now.”
Noah laughs, raising innocent hands. I couldn’t do the same. “Duty doesn’t have to be a bitter pill.”
I release a cynical grunt and wish I could take him back to that moment on the beach we’re still not talking about. The moment when I saw everything he wanted and wouldn’t let himself have.
“Say yes to your sister and, if you really want to solve all your problems, go get that girl from BLUSH while you’re at it,” he says, always the matchmaker.
“BLUSH? What are we talking about?” Ella fetches up to us, and I scramble to my feet like a child caught with his hand in the Kyriekager tin.
She’s wearing a perfectly ordinary outfit—a pair of gray slacks, conservative hoop earrings, and a creamy blouse with inspired draping. Her gaze darts to a booth—thebooth—and a warm flush works up her neck.
Noah settles deeper into his bar chair. “None of your business.”
I cuff Noah with the flat of my hand. “Show some manners to the lady.”
He rubs the spot with a grin. “That’s no lady. That’s my sister.”
I turn my bar chair out, and Ella slides in with a brief smile, her scent trailing after her. Her curls drag along my skin and, when she leans back, she traps my fingertips where I grip the chair.
I twist myself free, discreetly tugging a curl. Nowshe’sgoing to get us caught.
“What brings you down to Minty’s, little sister?” Noah asks, nodding at her soft-sided laptop case.
Color washes the freckles high on the ridge of her cheeks and she scuffs the toe of her shoe on the brass footrest. We’re about to be lied to. “Change of atmosphere. I had some work to do.”
“Is your suite too cramped?”
The toe traces a pattern on the metal as she cooks up another lie. “I was hoping to run into Marc. He promised to teach me how to play Fate.”
I almost laugh. Over the years, I’ve spent hours trying to teach Ella the game, played with a deck of illustrated cards depicting, among other things, the rising moon and flying cranes. They say there are as many ways to play as there are citizens of Seong, and while she has a knack for the forehead flicking—willing to do it even when she hasn’t earned the right, holding a man down, even—she’s never developed a sense of when to bid and when to hold.
“Don’t you know how to play by now?” Noah asks.
“Listen,” she clips. “There is a world of difference between a game invented by corporate focus groups and one that evolved in the hills of Seong for a thousand years.”
Noah knocks back the rest of his drink. “As fun as this is, I’ve got to get going,” he says. “I have to walk the dog and Mama wants to finalize the itinerary for Clara’s tour.”
“San Sabao, Tzeke, Kleingeshaft,” Ella recites, leaning up for a kiss. “I wondered if Mama was going to cancel Clara’s Tour of Middling Matrimonial Prospects now that she’s met Max.”
“It’s a chance for her to get some practice. Coming?” he asks me. “Or are you really going to play my sister’s games?”
With a shrug, I lift my drink.
