Chapter 1 #2
The child gives me a quizzical expression, but Dietrich chuckles. I step aside to allow him to go to his daughter. He plucks her from the arms of the woman I assume is the nanny.
“That’s because Shelford spent so much on their offence, they couldn’t pay for a decent center back to replace Mikkelsen,” the nanny says, smoothing the form-fitting satin around hips that are begging to be grabbed.
It’s my turn to go wide-eyed. “You know football?”
She shrugs. “A little.”
“Sounds like more than a little to me.” She smiles sweetly, and I’m once again drawn to those shapely lips. “And who do you support?”
“Portyard. They seem to have stayed truest to their factory team roots.”
Christ, as if she couldn’t be any hotter, this woman knows her footie. “The Navy Blues do have a certain unrefined air to their tactics. Have you been to a match?”
“A few in college, but none lately. My schedule is rather full.” She shifts on her feet slightly, and I’m drawn to those curves once more as her seafoam green sheath dress rustles. She sees me staring and blushes again. “Sorry, these shoes are killing me. I don’t normally dress like this.”
“No? I thought heels and evening gowns were ideal for chasing around rugrats.”
Her laugh is warm and unrestrained, like it welled from her chest and out, nothing like the tittering of courtiers and gentleladies I’m constantly surrounded with.
It sends a shock of delight through me, and I want to hear that true laughter again.
A stray strand of hair has come loose, and I reach up to tuck it behind her ear.
I hear her breath hitch, and she drops her gaze.
I step back, cursing myself. Too touchy, get a hold on yourself, Friedrich.
“I should get the children to bed,” she mutters, eyes still fixed on the floor.
“Can I take you to a match sometime?” Nerves I haven’t felt in a long time pound in my chest. She lifts her head, meeting my eyes, and her green ones only make the pounding increase.
They’re green like spring grass, leaves in the summer, like innocence and youth and new beginnings.
The green of life and nature and joy. Such joy.
She draws in her eyebrows, creating the slightest crease between them. “You want to take me to a soccer match?”
“Well, not if you’re going to call it soccer,” I chuckle.
She does too, but not that full laugh I got earlier. “Sorry, football. And I’d love to, but like I said, I’m rather busy for the foreseeable future. My only days off are Sundays.”
“I’ll take you to a Sunday match then.”
“I go out with my friend every Sunday.”
She isn’t going to make this easy on me. “Bring her too. Or him?” I add hesitantly.
“Her, and she doesn’t like football.”
My heart leaps. I shouldn’t care that this girl apparently only has time for one friend, and that friend is not a guy. Trixie would chide me for assuming that means she’s unattached, but this nanny’s reaction to my lingering looks and perhaps too friendly touch doesn’t scream lesbian to me.
“The club president’s wife doesn’t either, but there’s good food and free drinks on the VIP level.”
She shifts again, and I’m not sure if it is purely from physical discomfort. “She might like that.”
Dietrich places a kiss on his daughter’s cheek and puts her back on the floor. The woman takes the little girl’s hand.
“Ready to go, dearest?” Little Darcy makes no attempt to hide a huge yawn. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she giggles. “What do we say to Prince Friedrich?”
“A pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.” The toddler dips into a clumsy curtsy, and her nanny is scarcely more graceful. Definitely an American.
“Your Highness,” she breathes from her bent position.
I take her hand and bring her back to standing, holding her hand to my lips.
Her skin is soft and warm, and I catch a hint of a light perfume, floral and maybe a little citrus.
Bright and feminine with a whisper of something spicy underneath.
I allow my fingers to trail down hers as I let her go, pausing briefly at the very tips and swelling at the goosebumps rising on her arm.
“The pleasure is mine, Miss…” I trail off. How have I not asked her name?
“Aurelia,” the tiny blonde at her side supplies brightly.
I incline my head to her. “Miss Aurelia.”
She blushes again and gives me a small nod.
I try not to watch the sway of her hips as she walks away, but her dress hugs her ass just right and how can I help myself?
Dietrich’s wife is waiting near the door, holding a snoozing child who is passed off to Aurelia.
The women exchange a few words and then she is gone.
Shit. I had been so wrapped up in how beautiful she is that I didn’t even ask for her number. Dietrich is off speaking with one of the other staffers in the prime minister’s office. I can’t ask him anyway; I’d never hear the end of it.
Miles returns to my side, no drink in hand, his signal for ‘let’s fucking go.’ I’m ready too; my interaction with the young Miss Aurelia has my nerves at the ready, and I’m glad for my suit jacket covering certain bits that might be too excited to meet her.
“She was pretty,” my friend observes.
“Yeah.” I rub the back of my neck. “Hang on. I gotta see Rebecca really quick.” I’m already making my way through the mass of people and barely hear Miles’s protests.
“Your Highness.” Rebecca pays me the same greeting as everyone else.
I wave my hand to her. “You don’t need to bother with all that shit, Lady Rebecca.”
Dietrich’s wife had grown up around the palace; her father was Lord Chamberlain for over twenty years, and his family was often present around the palace and at most major parties, balls, and dinners.
Rebecca is a couple years older than me and was more like a sibling growing up.
That is, until I came home from boarding school for the summer at thirteen and realized she had tits.
She showed me once, but I’ll never tell Dietrich.
I lean in to whisper to her. “Can I ask you a favor?”
“You can ask,” she teases.
“I need the number for your nanny.”
She laughs. “Uh oh, Your Highness. Did someone have a little slip up?”
I roll my eyes. “You must be thinking of my brother.” If anyone is going to have a royal oopsie-baby, it’s my younger brother. Claus may be eight years younger than me, but I wouldn’t be surprised if his track record far surpasses mine with the way he carries on.
This garners another laugh from Rebecca. “I saw you talking with her over there.” She gestures behind me somewhere. “She didn’t give it to you then?”
I scrub a hand through my beard. “No, I, erm, forgot to ask.”
“And she didn’t offer it?”
I shake my head.
Rebecca makes a little humming sound. “I’m not sure I should share it then if she didn’t do so herself.” She’s ribbing me, and I’m strongly reminded of a childhood with her and my cousin hanging about.
“Come on, Rebecca.” I try to keep the desperation from my voice, but I know she can see through me. “You know I can get it another way, but this seems less creepy.”
She taps her chin in fake contemplation. “Still creepy, but less.” She sighs. “Fine.” She pulls her phone from her clutch and I brighten. My phone dings, and I see the contact card in my messages.
“Thanks, Bex.” My old friend smiles at the use of her childhood nickname, and I place a swift kiss on her cheek.
“You owe me, Fritz,” she calls after me as I go back to Miles.
“Flowers are already on their way!” I call back as I type out a message to my personal assistant, Tristan.