Page 5 of A Royal Disaster
“I might have a clean shirt in the office,” she said, taking a step back and bumping into a shelf of ceramic pots. They clattered and shook but thankfully settled quickly. “I’ll, uh, just go check.”
Inside the cramped office, she fanned herself and heaved a sigh of relief. At least he wasn’t going to sue her. That was something, right?
Lena shook her head. She needed to get a grip and focus on the task at hand. She spun a slow circle, trying to remember where she’d stashed the extra shirts. Spotting the box of EVA tees in a corner on the floor, she dug through it until she found one that would fit Liam. It would probably be snug, but hey, at least it was clean.
There was a gentle knock at the open door, making her painfully aware of the fact that her ass was in the air on full display. She straightened and offered Liam the shirt. His face was clean and even more devastatingly handsome, with ruddy, fresh-scrubbed cheeks. Her fingers itched to trace those beautiful lines, but her attention quickly drifted to his bare abs.
Becauseof coursehe had a six pack.
“What exactly is this place?” Liam asked, pulling the tee down and tucking it into the waist of his ruined dress pants.
“EVA is my vision come to life,” Lena said simply. “I grew up in the East Village and it’s always been my dream to create a space where artists from one to one hundred can let their light shine, regardless of skill level. We have open studio hours, but we also do a lot of classes and events. Paint nights, pottery nights, bachelorette parties. You name it, we’ve probably tried it.”
“It’s a lovely studio,” he said in that charming accent that turned her insides to mush. “It has a lot of character.”
“Thanks,” she said, unable to fight the grin that split her face. “What about you? Where are you from?”
Liam peered over her shoulder. “Is that your work?” he asked, sidestepping the question and pointing to the painting that hung above her cluttered desk. “It’s quite good.”
Lena’s gaze shifted to the canvas where three abstract hearts beat as one. It was the only piece she’d hung in the office, and it wasn’t really meant for strangers. It was personal, a reminder that although her parents had passed from this world, they were with her always. She’d painted it shortly after they’d died, and she’d never shown it to anyone but Nia.
Lena cleared her throat. “Yes, that one’s mine. So are the pieces in the front window, if you’d like to see them.” She gestured toward the door, suddenly desperate to get him out of her private space.
“I’d like that,” he said with a nod. “But first I’d better call for a ride. Where am I anyway?”
Lena plucked a business card from the desk and handed it to him, a spark of electricity igniting as her fingers grazed his. He smiled down at her, and their eyes held for an impossibly long second. Then the moment was shattered by an inhuman hiss. Lena jerked her gaze to the bookshelf, but it was too late. A ball of silver and black fur launched itself at Liam, hitting him square in the chest.
Liam stared slack-jawed at the cat hanging from the front of his shirt by its claws. It was all she could do not to laugh as the itch to draw him filled her fingertips once again. Liam was undeniably handsome, but when he let his guard down? He was captivating. He had an unusually expressive face—the kind that could convey a thousand thoughts with a single look—though he’d been hiding it behind a mask of tightly held control. But Jinx, the little scamp, had managed to slip past his defenses, revealing a side of him she suspected few ever saw.
“Bad kitty,” Lena admonished, reaching out to collect the fluffy tabby. He purred as she held him to her chest, as if reassuring her he’d just been doing his duty as man of the house. “Sorry about that. Jinx doesn’t like strangers.”
“You named your cat Jinx?” Liam asked, eyeing the cat warily as she carried him to the door and released him into the storeroom.
“It seemed fitting.” Lena shrugged. She and Jinx were a matched set. Always had been, always would be. “You can use the phone on the desk. I’ll wait for you out front.”
She backed out of the office, pulling the door shut behind her. She’d barely stepped into the studio when Nia grabbed her hand and dragged her around the corner, whisper-yelling with barely contained enthusiasm.
“Do you have any idea who that is?” she demanded, her brown eyes dancing with excitement.
“Liam Stanley, trespasser extraordinaire,” Lena said, wondering if the name was supposed to mean something to her. Nia was a fan of all things celebrity, so if he was an up-and-coming actor or something, she was sure to know it. “Jinx isn’t a fan, by the way.”
Nia rolled her eyes and leaned closer so their faces were just inches apart. “His Royal Highness, Prince William Louis Albert George Stanley, Duke of Carlyle,” she said, placing heavy emphasis on each word. “Crown Prince of Valeria.”
Lena sucked in a sharp breath. Liam was a prince? No freaking way. It wasn’t possible. Except… She chewed her lip. “Well, I guess that explains the photographer.”
“What?” Nia grabbed her shoulders. “Did you hear what I said? He’s a prince!”
“What difference does it make?” Lena swallowed the sharp sting of disappointment. Liam’s suit wasn’t the only thing out of her league. “I’ll never see him again after today.”
…
Liam stared out the window as the limo pulled away from East Village Art. Although the afternoon had taken a rather unexpected turn, he couldn’t bring himself to regret ditching his security team. Even if his best friend was glaring daggers at him from the opposite side of the car.
Fin would get over it. Eventually.
The run-in with Lena was the most exciting thing to happen since his arrival in New York, and though he could’ve done without the paint—which had left his trousers stiff and uncomfortable—it was nice to have a normal conversation with someone who saw something other than the crown when they looked at him. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d met someone who didn’t know of his royal lineage before they’d been introduced.
It was refreshing.
