Chapter 10 #2
It was amazing to watch him work. If she was a painter or a royal photographer, she would have captured him there, clasping hands with people who made up the backbone of the community. She had a feeling the scene wouldn’t translate as powerfully to cake.
Long minutes later, they had escaped the crowd and ducked behind a booth to sample the candied nuts. They were rock-hard but tasted of a tantalizing blend of cinnamon and brown sugar.
“Sorry about that,” he said.
“I’ll bet you never go to the grocery store. A week would pass just trying to get to the chocolate milk.”
He smiled again. “You’re not wrong.”
“For someone who claims to be an empty figurehead, you sure know a lot about your subjects.” She twisted the neck of the bag and shoved it in her pocket, then set off toward the park.
He shrugged and followed her. “It’s the least I can do.”
“How many people live in the village, anyway?”
“A little over five thousand.”
“Do most of them work at the castle?”
He shrugged. “Some do, but a lot own or work in small businesses right here. And the rest commute to the city for work. It’s only twenty minutes away.”
She glanced at the stage as they passed by. A band was standing on it, new wood gleaming brightly against the old. That must have been what Leo was doing when they met yesterday.
“Why is it that you do so much yourself? Aren’t there maintenance staff to take care of things like broken boards on the stage?”
“I have certain privileges, access to some funds for community outreach. The least I can do is cut through the red tape when I can.”
“You really care about the people,” she observed.
“Of course I do. I wish I could do more,” he said, scanning the festival. “I’m trying to do more.”
“Oh?” She waited, but he didn’t elaborate.
“We’re supposed to be talking about you, not me,” he said.
“I think technically we’re here to thank me for saving your life. Which you could do by telling me more about your impossible-to-please mother’s likes and dislikes,” she said pointedly.
He nodded, and they pulled to a stop.
She swayed to the band’s rendition of “O Come, All Ye Faithful” while Leo pondered. Her stomach growled, apparently unsatisfied by the candied nuts, and he glanced at her.
“Come with me. Let’s warm up a little.”
Her eyes dropped from his face to his toes against her will.
The hormones that had lain dormant seemed to be firing up again.
Maybe it was the brisk walk in the frigid air.
But she had a visceral mental image of Leo shedding his clothes next to a crackling fire.
Desire stirred in her, and she bit the inside of her cheek.
Focus, idiot. He’s a literal prince, and you’re a girl who bakes cookies. He’s just being polite.
“Sounds great.”
He led her to a pub with a weathered sign over the door that read The Scarlet Hare.
It was welcoming and warm inside, which was great because her nipples were about to snap off.
The pub’s interior was surprisingly modern and tasteful—almost industrial chic. Clean lines, rich leather booths. Glass globes dangled throughout, bathing the space in warm golden light.
“Leo!” someone exclaimed from behind the bar.
Leo slid onto a heavy iron barstool, and she claimed the one next to him. The barkeep didn’t bow or even nod. They must have been friends. Unless he was royalty too?
“And who’s this?” asked a man with amazing eyebrows.
“This is Emma. She’s part of the baking team for the anniversary party.”
“You’re the girl with the dog,” the man said. His eyebrows were perfectly manicured, and his teeth were incredibly straight and bright.
Right. Shit. He had been there when Cooper peed on Leo.
“Yes. I instruct Cooper to pee on heads of state everywhere I go. I have a punch card,” she said with a serious face.
The man laughed. “I like her. She’s funny. I’m Salvador. Everyone calls me Sal.”
“Emma.” She reached across the bar and shook his hand.
“What’s your special tonight?” Leo asked.
“Pasta pancetta.”
So that was the heavenly smell. Leo looked at her, and she nodded. “Two, please. And a couple pints.”
Leo tugged his coat off and hung it over the back of his chair. His deep blue sweater stretched across his broad chest and clung to a surprising set of biceps. This was not helping her random surge of hormones.
They sat in the warmth of the restaurant, nursing their beers. She wasn’t usually a beer girl, but if slamming down a couple pints of Guinness helped the prince spill all the dirty secrets about the queen, she would do a keg stand.
His knee brushed against hers under the bar, and her heart leapt into her throat. Relax. That was definitely an accident.
She busied her hands by shrugging off the borrowed jacket and pulling off her hat. Her hair was probably a hot, staticky mess. Not the most professional look for what was practically a business meeting, but at least it wasn’t a Yankees sweatshirt covered in dog hair.
A few other patrons claimed booths, but no one seemed to be paying attention to them. Good.
Leo looked up at her, and his brow furrowed. “Here,” he said, reaching for her. She turned to look at him, heart in her throat. Was she covered in cinnamon sugar dust?
His pinky grazed her cheek, and her underwear disintegrated. His hand moved to her hair.
“Leo! Your Highness!”
A flash popped, and Emma blinked in the sudden burst of light. Leo jerked away from her. A couple of men with cameras elbowed each other, trying to get a shot.
“Fuck,” Leo grumbled next to her. “Get your coat.”
She recovered Ruby’s coat and hat, and Leo grabbed her hand. A burst of static electricity shocked her, and it was like a warning.
He pulled her across the room and through a set of double doors into the kitchen.
The chefs looked up and bowed at Leo as they ran through the kitchen and into a back storage room. He pressed her against a shelving unit and shielded her with his body.