Page 24 of Tall, Royal and Grumpy

“Thank you, Raj,” I said and looked down the corridor. “Did she say where she was going?”

“I believe she was on her way to the kitchen.”

Same as me then. And for some reason that knowledge sent the faintest little buzz through the left region of my chest. But not exactly the left. Somewhere in the middle. More on the left though. Not low enough to be a gurgle of hunger from my belly—never mind. Just forget it.

The little buzz grew in strength by the time I reached the kitchen to find the lights on inside. It was probably just because I had a surprisingly good and long conversation with her last night. I was looking forward to talking to her again seeing as I hadn’t interacted with her much during the conference. We’d ended up on different sides of the room nearly the whole time, though I’d caught her gaze a few times. And her smile. She had a nice smile.

As I entered the kitchen, a quiet giggle fluttered over from the right just ahead, and I went towards the pretty sound like a moth drawn to a flame.

I found her sitting on the kitchen island we'd sat at last night. Not on a stool. She was actually sitting on top of the counter, having pushed one stool to the side.

Esmeralda held a book in one hand, and a half-eaten, orange ice-lolly in the other. Her soft brown, wavy hair fell around her shoulders, tucked behind her ear on one side, as she grinned at whatever she was reading.

The sight of her eating an ice-lolly in winter should have sent shivers of disgust through me. There were no shivers. Just a flare coming to life behind the steady thudding inside my ribcage as I couldn’t seem to swallow through my tightening throat.

She was wearing shorts again. Grey cotton ones that barely covered the top few inches of her warm golden, supple thighs. Paired with a grey T-shirt that was cropped enough that if she leaned back even a centimetre, I’d get a glimpse of the soft curve of her belly underneath.

It was so tight across her chest.

For such a small woman, she had a rather ample chest that she’d somehow managed to shove into the T-shirt. But the strain on the fabric was obvious. So damn obvious.

Kai, eyes!

With a screech of braking tires and a jolt, I tore my gaze away from her, embarrassment and frustration burning through my face. I tugged at my left earlobe, scowling furiously somewhere past Esmeralda. Not trusting myself to look at her.

For fuck’s sake, what was wrong with me? I didn’t normally behave as if I had never seen a pretty woman before.

Yes, but this is the pretty woman you’ve been thinking about a lot.

My eyes, with a mind of their own, caught on her again, and I scrubbed my fingers over my mouth.

She was lost in her own world, her gaze tracing the words on the pages of the book. As if she heard my thoughts, her head snapped up and her eyes darted left. Once. Twice on a glistening, wide-eyed doubletake.

“Kai!”

There was so much familiarity and excitement in her voice that a bolt of electricity zapped through my chest. Blood poured through my ears again, making them itch, making me want to—I tugged at my earlobe, swallowing around the feeling as my brows slipped down.

No one had ever said my name like that before. It was…weird. Pleasantly so.

Trying not to appear flustered, I ran a hand through my hair and moved towards her. “What are you doing?”

Do the fucking book and ice-lolly not give it away? Idiot.

“Just reading.” She lifted the book in her hand then the ice-lolly. “And eating an ice pop.”

I glared at the bitten cylinder of ice on a stick. “In the middle of winter?”

She grinned. “Yes, because there is no season for ice pops.” I grunted my disapproval. Her smile widened as she put the book down. “What about you? Having jasmine tea again?”

“Not tea. Food.” I flicked a judgemental glance to her ice-lolly. “Real food.”

She gaped at me, pretending to be outraged though she clearly wasn’t. “Excuse me. But where I come from, ice pops are an essential food.”

As if to prove her point, she bit down on one side of the orange-coloured lolly, only for the other side to fall off the wooden stick. She squealed with her mouth closed, catching the falling ice in her left palm. Then quickly rolling it onto her fingers, she pushed it between her red, swollen lips.

“What?” she muttered around the ice with a defiant tilt to her chin and blushing cheeks.

Her fumble and obvious embarrassment were cute. Seriously. I had to turn away as the weight on my brows lifted and the tightness of my lips melted.

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