Chapter Sixteen
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Emma went stiff and rigid in his arms—her eyes and teeth clenched tight—as though she was waiting for a ravenous lion to pounce on her.
“What’s wrong?” Michel leaned back to get a better look at her expression, but it was hard to see in the shadows. He cupped her cheek and lifted her face toward him. “What’s happening right now?”
“Just tell me what it is,” she gritted out. “I don’t like being hit with surprises. Let’s get it over with.”
Michel gulped. That didn’t bode well for when he broke the news that he was the crown prince of Rouleme. He pushed the thought away even as dread settled in his stomach like a leaden anchor. He would worry about that when— if —that time came. It would be hard enough to explain to her why they weren’t alone right now.
“I have a… bodyguard,” he said in a strained voice.
“What?” Her face went blank for a moment, then she burst out laughing with obvious relief. “That’s strange and unexpected but not bad . Oh, thank goodness the something isn’t a bad thing.”
“The something?” His eyebrows pulled together as he tried to understand what she was saying.
“You said you had something to tell me, and that something is usually bad news.” She carefully wiped the corners of her eyes with a knuckle. “But wow. You have a bodyguard? Why? Are you a celebrity in your country or something?”
“Or something,” he said in an attempt at levity.
“As long as that something isn’t bad.” Her expression grew guarded again, and that was the last thing he wanted.
“No, no. I assure you it’s nothing bad.” At least, he hoped she wouldn’t think it was bad. His real concern was that she might like the idea of him being a prince too much—more than she liked the man underneath the crown. Even though he couldn’t tell her his real identity yet, he wanted to be as honest with her as possible. “It’s a simple precautionary measure to reassure my father that I’ll be safe. I come from an… influential family, and he’s rather overprotective.”
“Um, okay.” Emma nodded. “So where’s your bodyguard right now?”
“She has actually been with us the entire evening,” he said with a small cringe. He’d completely forgotten about Sophie—kissing Emma left little room for any coherent thought—until he heard her cough insistently from a few meters away. “That’s why I had to stop kissing you.”
“What?” Emma pushed herself off the wall so fast that she nearly butted his head with hers. “Where?”
“Do you… want to meet her?” Michel wasn’t sure what Emma needed to become comfortable with the idea. He could only hope that he hadn’t scared her off.
“Meet her?” Her head swiveled left and right down the alleyway, but Sophie had slipped into an alcove. “I can’t meet her. She just saw us… We were… Oh God. I can’t look her in the face right now.”
“Certainly. Not a problem at all,” he agreed quickly. “I’ll introduce you two next time.”
This time, he didn’t wonder about whether there would be a next time. After a kiss like that, it would be impossible for there not to be a next time. But he swallowed thickly when Emma didn’t answer right away.
“Okay. Let’s do that.” Her shoulders rose as she inhaled deeply and lowered as she blew out the breath in a gusty whoosh. “So what happens now?”
He didn’t want their night to end, but he knew Emma needed some time to process what he’d shared and get accustomed to the idea. “May I walk you to your car?”
She worried her bottom lip, drawing his gaze back to her mouth. Even in the dark, he could tell that her lips were swollen. He felt a surge of male pride, and it was all he could do not to kiss her again.
“Yes,” she said at last. “I’m not parked too far away.”
He offered her his arm. “Please lead the way.”
Michel shortened his stride to match hers and to make their walk last as long as possible. Emma looked over her shoulder, then faced forward again with her mouth scrunched to one side.
“Is she following us? I can’t tell who she is.”
“Oh, she’s there.” Sophie hung back farther than usual, keeping pace with a group of young women walking behind them. “She’s very good at her job and very discreet. I often forget she’s even there.”
“Hmm.”
He tugged Emma closer and placed his hand on top of hers tucked into his arm. “I’m sorry to make you uncomfortable.”
“That’s okay.” She gave him a small but genuine smile. “I’m sure I’ll get used to it soon enough. I actually think it’s kind of neat that you have a woman as your bodyguard. Is she taller than you? Because… well, you know… your height and build are quite imposing. I can’t imagine someone smaller bodyguarding you.”
“Sophie’s actually about your size. A bit broader in the shoulders maybe.” He glanced sideways at Emma. “But she’s a master in a number of martial arts and more than capable of taking down people much bigger than her. Besides, protecting someone is often less about brute force and more about skill, intelligence, and instinct.”
“Wow. She sounds awesome . I totally want to meet her now.” But she quickly added, “Not now now. But next time.”
They walked quietly for a few minutes, and Michel took in the scene around him. The streets weren’t overly busy, but a good number of pedestrians strolled alongside them. The people in America seemed bigger and louder than their counterparts in Europe. Not necessarily in size and volume. They seemed to take up more space around them but just as easily shared that space with others. There was something open and confident about them.
Maybe it was Los Angeles. Or it was limited to the people around him, here and now, but Michel felt as though he could breathe easier tonight. It was as though a tight fist he hadn’t realized was clenched around him had loosened its hold ever so slightly. Being the prince of Rouleme was a privilege, but he was grateful for this brief taste of freedom.
“Can I ask you a question?” Emma looked at him. “Are you never alone, then?”
“It’s not like Sophie watches me sleeping.” Michel chuckled even though the fist around him tightened again. He was never truly alone, especially back in Rouleme. “Sophie and I each have our own suite at the hotel, so we have all the privacy we need. She’s able to give me that space because no one can come up to our floor that she hasn’t cleared.”
“But I was able to come up to your suite.” Slowly, Emma’s eyes and mouth rounded. “Was I cleared ?”
“Yes.” He wasn’t sure how she would take the revelation.
“She did a background check on me?” Her voice rose a fraction.
“Yes…” He still couldn’t get a read on her reaction. “She can access certain information on people to ensure there aren’t any red flags.”
“So does that mean she knows my life story?” She stopped walking and withdrew her hand from his arm.
“Emma, please—” His stomach sinking, he reached for her hand, but stopped himself.
“That’s so cool.” She turned to face him, wearing a wide grin.
“What?” He blinked.
“It’s kind of neat that someone had to clear me for security reasons .” Her tinkling laughter felt like a balm on his frazzled nerves. “Besides, I don’t have anything to hide. My life is annoyingly normal . She must’ve been bored out of her mind, doing whatever she did to background check me.”
“Dieu merci,” he breathed. “I’m so relieved you aren’t offended.”
“No, she was just doing her job.” Then she pierced him with a sharp glare. “I have no reason to be offended unless you also read up on me.”
“I would never .” He placed his palm on his chest. “I swear. I didn’t read a word of her report.”
“You swear you know nothing about how my last two boyfriends went missing?”
“No, of course not…” He stopped and stared at her. “I beg your pardon?”
“Oh my God. ” Emma doubled over laughing, her hands pressed to her thighs. “Your face. Oh, that’s priceless.”
“That”—he wrapped his hands around her waist and hauled her against him—“was not very nice.”
“No, I guess it wasn’t.” She gripped his shoulders for balance. “But it was very, very funny.”
Michel swooped his head down and kissed her soundly on her smiling lips, pushing her back against an antique-style lamppost. When she rose to her toes and buried her fingers into his hair, he deepened the kiss like a man starved. The heady scent of jasmine lingered in her mouth. With a gasp, he drew away from her before he completely lost his head. He dropped his hands to his sides and fisted them to stop himself from grabbing her again.
He couldn’t believe he had let his control slip—kissing her in the middle of the street like that. For some reason, it made him want to laugh. The pedestrians didn’t seem to mind their public show of affection in the least. Most of them were involved in their own conversations as they walked past them. An older couple chuckled and smiled fondly at each other, as though remembering their younger selves.
“We should probably stop embarrassing your bodyguard,” Emma said with a rosy blush on her cheeks. “Anyway, this is me.”
“Here?” he asked, not taking his eyes off her.
“My chariot awaits.” She pointed her thumb over her shoulder to a white compact car behind her and fiddled with the strap of her purse. “So… I guess this is good night.”
“Yes. I guess so.” But he couldn’t make himself step away from her.
He wanted to kiss her again. It felt as though he might die if he didn’t kiss her. But he didn’t kiss women in the middle of the street. The dignity of the crown demanded he not make a spectacle of himself—at least not twice in one night.
But he wore no crown tonight. Prince Michel might not kiss women in public, but Michel Chevalier could kiss the hell out of Emma Yoon anywhere. He ran the backs of his fingers down the side of her face. She leaned into his touch.
“May I kiss you good night, Emma?” She looked lovely illuminated by the warm light of the streetlamp, and he tucked her hair behind her ear.
“But… isn’t Sophie watching?” She caught the bottom of her lip in her teeth.
“I don’t care.” He gently freed her lip with the pad of his thumb. “The whole damn street can watch if it means I can taste you again.”
Emma sucked in a sharp breath and swayed toward him. “God, you really are good at this.”
“What am I good at?” He traced the line of her jaw and smiled when she shivered. She felt this attraction between them as strongly as he did. There was no question that they would be compatible in bed—he grew instantly hard at the thought—but he couldn’t make love to her until he told her who he was.
“Being hot,” she said with a petulant pout. “It makes rational thought very difficult.”
Incredulous laughter huffed out of him. As the desire pushing against his skin became something warm and tender, he leaned his forehead against hers and sighed. Emma made it clear that she felt uncomfortable kissing in front of Sophie. He couldn’t coerce her to kiss him by… being hot… no matter how much he wanted her.
He gently pushed her hair away and kissed her on the temple, then brushed his lips down the side of her face and kissed her impossibly soft cheek. “Good night, Emma.”
“Good night, Michel.” She offered him a sweet smile. “And tell Sophie good night for me.”
“I will.” He hesitated for a second, unsure whether he was being too familiar. To hell with dating protocol . “Will you text me when you get to your house? I just want to know you got home safely.”
“I’ll also text you if my car breaks down in the middle of the road.” Her smile widened until her dimple appeared, and Michel questioned the wisdom of his decision not to kiss her again. “Maybe Sophie could come rescue me, all badass.”
“Don’t get stranded.” Before all his good intentions came to naught, Michel carefully turned Emma away from him and nudged her toward her car. “Get home safe. Text me.”
Michel was still watching Emma’s car disappear down the street when Sophie came to stand next to him.
Looking out onto the street, she crossed her arms over her chest and said with an approving nod, “I like her.”
“That’s only because she thinks you’re badass.” He arched his eyebrow at her.
“Don’t be jealous, my prince,” she deadpanned. “I promise to tone down my badassery when I’m around her.”
Michel scoffed with royal disdain but was secretly grateful for his friend’s promise. It would be hard enough capturing Emma’s heart in two months without her being distracted with a girl crush on Sophie. He shook his head at his own foolishness.
“Let us head back to the hotel, Captain Bellevue”—he grinned—“where you can rest your badassery for the evening.”
“Of course, Your Highness.” Sophie rolled her eyes deferentially.
“I like her, too,” he said as they walked to their car.
“I know.” She stared straight ahead, but he felt a featherlight nudge of her elbow on his arm. “And she likes you.”
Michel didn’t even know what it felt like to have true privacy, but if anyone had to invade his privacy, he was glad that it was his badass friend.