Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
EMMA
Emma froze with one hand on the door. She had just showered, the oven was pre-heating for a test batch of macarons, and her hair was hanging all over like she had just climbed out of another frozen lake.
To make matters worse, she was wearing her comfiest pair of sweatpants and an old I Heart NY T-shirt.
Why did he always catch her looking like she had just fallen on the tracks of the G train?
“Leo! Oh, uh, I mean—”
“Don’t you dare start with the ‘Your Highness’ bullshit,” Leo chastised her.
He stood on her doorstep with a smile, and her heart did a full somersault. She needed to have a conversation with him, but she wasn’t ready.
Her interaction with the queen this morning had proven one thing—Her Majesty did not like Emma, or at least did not like her spending time with Leo.
And that was a problem, because she was in charge of the royal checkbook.
If Emma kept getting caught with Leo, she risked getting fired.
And that wasn’t worth the risk—no matter how devastatingly handsome and kind and fascinating he was.
“Come in.” She needed to get him out of the doorway before someone saw him and reported back to the queen.
Leo crossed the threshold, toeing his boots off when Cooper thundered over to put his paws on his chest. He gave him a pat on the head until the dog dropped to the floor.
“How are you?” Leo asked.
“I’m fine. Dr. Hastings looked me over and gave me the all clear—and a very stern lecture about running out onto frozen lakes. As if I hadn’t already figured out the dangers for myself.”
He nodded and seemed unsurprised. “Good. Here.” He pulled a new phone out of his pocket and handed it to her.
“What’s this?”
“A spare. Until yours resurrects.” He glanced over her shoulder at the bowl of rice her phone was currently submerged in.
She bit her lip. Was he doing this out of obligation? “You didn’t have to do that. I’ll repay you.”
“No, you won’t. Again, you saved my life.”
“And you saved mine,” she said.
He tilted his head. “You’re right. This is weird.”
Emma tapped a finger on her chin. “I’ve never been in this situation before. Do the double life-savings just kind of cancel each other out?”
He laughed. “Maybe they do. I guess you won’t want these blueprints, then,” he said, pulling out a long paper tube.
She gasped. “Gimme,” she ordered.
Once the plans were spread over the small dining room table, they bent over, shoulder-to-shoulder, to consult them together.
Her eyes were on the blueprints, but her mind kept honing in on Leo’s warm presence.
He smelled so good, like the outdoors and a spice she couldn’t name.
Something fluttered in her nether regions.
She had hoped the next time she saw him she would be calm, put-together, and not falling into mortal peril.
Stressed out, bedraggled, and buried waist-deep in recipes would have to do.
Not that there was anything going on here.
Emma needed to stay away from him to keep her job.
Besides, one kiss in a shack during a snowstorm didn’t mean anything.
Emotions were high. She had just almost died, and her brain wasn’t working.
If it had been, she certainly wouldn’t have let him kiss her.
Would she? Shut up, brain.
“What do you think?” he asked as she leafed through the diagrams. He planted a hand on the table and leaned to look with her.
His sleeves were rolled up, exposing a very distracting set of forearms. Focus, idiot.
She blew out a long breath. “This is going to be a ton of work, and I only have a few days. It doesn’t help that your mother will only let me in the kitchen after it’s closed from dinner service.”
Leo’s gaze landed on her oven. “How much can you do in here during the day?”
Emma shrugged. “Some, but this oven is too small to bake the gingerbread pieces. Why is everything so small here? Your fridges are like half the size of an American fridge. What if you need to store more than four ingredients at the same time?”
“How can I help?” he asked. He reached over and brushed a hair away from her forehead.
Her skin tingled with goosebumps. She bit her lip.
“I don’t think you should,” she said.
He pulled back, looking surprised.
She reached over and laid a hand on his chest. Her heart danced.
“Don’t get me wrong. I’d love to have your help.
But I’m pretty sure your mom hates me. I know there’s nothing going on between us, but I can’t risk her firing me because she can’t handle her son consorting with an American.
Or a poor nobody. Whatever she hates me for the most. I really need the rest of this trip to go well.
So maybe we shouldn’t…see each other anymore. ”
She lowered her gaze, unwilling to look him in the eye. The idea of not seeing him again smarted worse than a molten sugar burn. She would have to bury herself in work and try to forget about that kiss in the workshop.
“What if we met in secret?” Leo asked softly.
Secret?
Her heart thudded in her ears. She slowly lifted her gaze to meet his. There was an intensity in his eyes.
“And I wouldn’t say there’s nothing going on here,” he added before she could say anything.
He pulled her to him, lowered his head until his lips were inches from hers. Or centimeters. Whatever they used here.
What was she doing? She was putting her future in jeopardy.
But she had always done the right thing for her whole life, and it had gotten her nowhere—underemployed, taken advantage of, and alone in the world other than her mother.
Maybe just this once, she could be a little selfish.
She was worthy of adventure and excitement, especially since Leo was willing to keep it a secret.
His eyes smoldered as they searched hers. Fuck it.
Emma crushed her mouth to his before she could think better of it. He hesitated for a split second, then he gripped her by the hips roughly, powerfully—like she was anchoring him to the earth. Gone was the gentle Leo of yesterday.
There was a fire in him. His hands skated up her body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.
He picked her up like she weighed nothing and put her down on the kitchen table.
Right on top of the blueprints. She pulled back to protest, but he dragged her to him and kissed her again.
All thoughts of work vanished as his lips moved lower, down her neck, his breath hot on her collarbone.
My god, the sensations flowing through her right now. Her synapses were firing, sensations screaming by like she was in the dark tunnel of a rollercoaster. His hands slid beneath her T-shirt and tugged it up and over her head.
She was normally a five-to-six dates kind of girl. But they were short on time, and Leo had awakened a visceral hunger in her.
She yanked his shirt off, savoring the shifting power in his back and shoulders. His mouth moved to the curve of her breasts, which she hadn’t bothered to trap in a bra after her shower.
He teased a nipple with his teeth, and her fingers curled, head tipping back. She was totally at his mercy. He was made of marble, but warm and sexy and…okay, her brain had completely shut off now.
He leaned past her and made a sweeping motion with his arm. Paper rustled. She glanced at the floor, where the blueprints for the gingerbread house now rested. He returned to her mouth, investigating with his tongue. Thank god she had brushed her teeth.
He leaned her gently back onto the table, and she shuddered at the cold wood pressing into her spine.
His fingers slipped into the waistband of her sweatpants, and suddenly there was a knock at the door.
Fuck. She sat up abruptly, nearly cracking her skull into his.
He froze, shirtless and looking panicked.
“Hide,” she mouthed to him.
“Where?” he mouthed back.
“Bathroom,” she whispered, as though it was obvious.
“Who is it?” she called in a louder voice as she hopped off the table, lips still stinging from the intensity of their kiss.
“It’s Beatrice, miss. The queen asked me to check on you.”
“Oh. One second,” Emma said.
Leo darted into the bathroom. Holy shit. She had nearly had sex with a prince. In a castle. And they had nearly been caught by the second-to-last person she would want to find them.
She struggled into her T-shirt and cast one last look around. The apartment wasn’t neat, but at least Leo wasn’t trying to hide behind the potted plant. Shit, his clothes. She plucked his T-shirt from the floor and tossed it into the comically small refrigerator, then threw his shoes in the oven.
Emma pulled the door open and put on her brightest smile. “It’s so kind of you to check on me. I’m feeling well and ready to work.”
Beatrice smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Cooper ran over to her, and she gave him a distracted pat as she looked past Emma and into the room.
“You haven’t seen the prince, have you?”
Oh, shit. Did she know? Time to lie.
“John? No, why?”
“Not John. Leopold.”
“Not since this morning,” Emma said delicately.
Her cheeks burned. Was she blushing? She wasn’t used to lying.
It didn’t feel right, but if that two-minute preview was anything like the main event, she would lie to every employee in the castle to score more time with shirtless Leo.
Principles be damned. “You guys should really consider putting an AirTag on him.”
Beatrice smiled—a real smile this time—then pressed her lips together to hide it.
“Maybe so. He has a meeting, and I wanted to give him some talking points. Well, I’m very relieved you’re feeling well. We’re all excited to see what you and Miss Farrell come up with.”
Emma bit her lip so she wouldn’t laugh. As if Maya had contributed anything meaningful to this project.
“Did you prepare your shopping list?” Beatrice asked. “I’m happy to turn it in to the head of the kitchen.”
“Yes,” Emma said. She looked behind her, then remembered that it was buried under the blueprints Leo had just thrown on the floor.
“Whoops. Cooper must have knocked these off,” she said, crouching down and digging through the mess.
Cooper whined, probably voicing his displeasure at being blamed for his mom’s shenanigans.
“Here you are.” Emma handed the list over.
“Great. Thank—do you smell something?” Beatrice paused with her nose in the air.
Emma sniffed. Oh, shit. What was that, rubber burning?
She had put Leo’s shoes in the oven. Idiot.
“Oh, no. That must be my test batch of macarons,” Emma said—despite the tray very clearly sitting on top of the oven. “I better get those. Thanks for stopping by.”
“Have a good day,” Beatrice said as Emma all but shoved her out the door.
“Fuck,” Emma said. She ripped the oven door open and yanked the shoes out with a pair of tongs.
They hadn’t actually caught on fire, though the soles looked a bit meltier than they had earlier. And now the apartment smelled like feet.
Leo poked his head out of the bathroom. “All clear?”
Emma nodded. “I may have burnt your shoes.”
“You what?”
She pointed to the sink, where a curl of smoke rose above the boots. “Sorry. I panicked.”
Leo laughed. He was all sex and sunshine, the darts of his hips visible above the waistband of his jeans. She went to reach for him when something changed in his expression, and he pulled his phone out.
“Damn, I do have a meeting.”
Her heart fell, but it quickly righted itself when he crossed the room in two strides and delivered another searing kiss, pressing her against the door and cradling the back of her head in his hand.
“Have dinner with me. Tomorrow,” he said breathlessly.
Another demand. But this one she didn’t mind.
“Where?” she asked, pulling back to look at him. “We can’t be seen together.”
He paused for a moment. “Meet me in the greenhouse at six. I’ll take care of everything.”
She flushed with pleasure. She was playing with fire, but something about Leo was outweighing her capacity for logic. In less than a week, she would be back to her regular, monotonous life. Didn’t she deserve to explore this connection while she could?
With one last breath-stealing kiss, he shrugged into his shirt, put on his toasty boots, and left. Things had escalated very quickly. Her life was unrecognizable from one week ago.
What was she getting herself into?