Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
LEO
Leo stopped to listen, his heart pounding in his ears.
It fucking figured. The first time he had the audacity to take a woman out since Petra, and the paparazzi had been on them within minutes. Someone must have tipped them off.
The door to the kitchen opened, and Leo yanked the brim of Emma’s beanie down over her eyes and shielded her with his arms. He had known this was a risk when he asked her to the carnival, and he had done it anyway. Selfish. Stupid and selfish.
“It’s just me.” Sal appeared holding two to-go containers. “Sorry about that. I kicked them out and told them there was a rumor John was throwing up behind the porta-potties at the park.”
Emma slapped at Leo’s arm and pulled the beanie off. She looked annoyed.
“I could set you up a nice little table back here if you wanted to stay,” Sal added.
He turned to Sal and shook his head. “We’ll take it to go. I’ve put her through enough tonight. Add it to my tab.”
He had meant tonight’s outing as a way to say thank you and make up for deceiving her, and instead she had spent the whole evening taking pictures of him and fleeing from the paparazzi.
“I’m so sorry about that,” he said as they stepped back into the winter dark minutes later. A to-go bag dangled from one wrist. He peeked around the corner of the building, but the paparazzi had seemingly moved on.
“It’s okay. You warned me. And that was pretty mild compared to the treatment some celebrities get,” she added.
“Well, we are a small country. It doesn’t make it less annoying, though.”
Emma said nothing. A knot formed in his stomach. All he could do now was escort her back to the apartment…and give up everything he knew about his mother’s tastes.
“My mother likes crunchy biscuits, not soft.”
Emma, who had been staring forlornly back at the Christmas festival, snapped her attention back to him.
“Oh, great. Let me write this down.” She pulled her phone out and opened a blank note. “Crunchy cookies, not soft. Cardamom. No fondant. What else?” she asked, looking up at him.
“She likes more essences than raw fruit, if that makes sense. Rose water, that kind of thing. And she prefers chocolate cake to vanilla.”
She looked up from her phone. “And the king?”
“He likes everything. He also doesn’t get to have an opinion about anything related to the ball.”
“Huh. Okay.” She tucked her phone away.
They settled into a companionable silence as they trudged back up the snow-covered road toward the castle. It glowed ahead of them, an intimidating structure.
“How does your mom feel about nuts?” she asked.
“Hates Brazil nuts, tolerates everything else.”
She nodded and made another note. “What would you say are some traditional flavors in your country?”
“We have a little influence from everywhere. France, Spain, Germany, England. We have a version of crème br?lée called Crema Lynoria. And our chef would make coca masegada on holidays.”
She straightened up. “I’ve heard of cocas.” She jotted down another note, and he could practically see the wheels turning.
Their pace slowed as the castle appeared in the distance. Even though Leo had a thousand things to do, he wasn’t ready to say goodnight. Something about Emma was comforting and warm, like a flannel blanket. If a flannel blanket was also incredibly good-looking and funny.
“Thank you for taking me to the festival,” she said as they headed up the stairs to the second floor of the gatehouse. She pulled a heavy brass key out of her pocket and slid it into the keyhole. Cooper barked on the other side of the door.
“It was my pleasure. Here.” He reached into the bag and pulled out one of the to-go boxes. He handed it to her.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come in and eat with me? Give up some more closely guarded state secrets?” she asked. Her green eyes shone in the half-light. One hand rested on the doorknob.
He hesitated. Beyond that door, they’d be away from prying eyes. There was also a giant dog he really wanted to get to know. But she was only here for a few days. Getting attached was a bad idea.
“I think I’ve put you through enough today.
” He gently took her free hand in his and bent to press a kiss to it.
Her fingers tensed under his touch. When he straightened, she looked a little disappointed.
He was close enough to smell the vanilla notes of her perfume.
It was making sticking to his convictions almost impossible.
“Thank you, Emma. That was the most fun I’ve had in some time.”
Her hand was small in his. It was taking every bit of Leo’s self-control not to pull her to him and press her against that doorframe.
“Even though I couldn’t stop talking about raccoons with a penchant for picnic foods?” she quipped.
“Especially because of that. I’ll see you around.”
“See you,” she said. She pulled her hand back and opened the door, disappearing behind it without another look behind her.
He leaned against the opposite wall and let out a long breath. What was he doing? Fraternizing with an American? His mother would die of a heart attack.
But did he care? The solid wood of the door beckoned to him. There was nothing wrong with having dinner with her. That had been the plan, after all, before the press interrupted. It was pasta, not a marriage proposal.
He raised a hand to knock on the door when it suddenly opened.
Emma shrieked, and her fist came flying out of nowhere. He jumped back.
“Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d still be there. Did I hit you?”
She put a hand on his cheek, and her eyes searched his. Cooper’s leash was wrapped around her wrist. He circled the prince, sniffing at his shoes, before walking down the hall.
The leash tightened around them and pulled them together until they were torso-to-torso and staggering toward the stairs like some kind of many-limbed monster.
Cooper paused to sniff at a doorway, and for a moment they were only a hair’s breadth apart. Moonlight shone in her green eyes. His hand found her waist instinctively, and they looked at each other. A door shut down the hallway, and Leo snapped back to reality.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. The, uh, Wi-Fi is particularly good in this hallway.” He extricated himself from the leash and took a step back.
What nonsense was he speaking?
“Right,” she said with a small smile. “The Wi-Fi. Well, I need to let Cooper out. Have a good night…Your Highness,” she added with a small curtsy.
“We talked about this,” he called after her, and she looked over her shoulder to wink at him.
He confidently strode the opposite direction before remembering that it led to a dead end, then had to wait an extra minute to be sure she was outside before hustling out the exit.
He was in trouble.