Chapter 5 #2
He laughed softly but made no move to leave. "That's your subtle way of telling me to get lost."
"Was I being subtle?"
His bark of laughter had her smiling in spite of herself.
"We Americans tend to be abrasive. It's good to be in the company of one." He touched her hand briefly. "I would like to show you around."
"That's not necessary."
"I want to tell you the story of how I ended up here. Please."
With a nod, she allowed herself to be guided over to the group of sculptures.
"I was going through a bitter divorce and thought my life was over.
" He discreetly tucked a price tag around the back of a slim tapered swan.
"I intended to leave after a week but fell in love with the place.
I then went on a tour of the palace and was listening to the tour guide when Queen Sofia came along.
I was dazzled by her incredible beauty."
"And you decided to stay right then and there."
He chuckled at her dry tone. Plucking two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter, he handed her one.
"Not so easy. I saw her at one of the banks and was so distracted, I spilled my papers right in front of her.
The embarrassment was acute." He took a thoughtful sip, his expression rueful.
"I started apologizing profusely when she stopped me.
She started talking and before I knew it, I was pouring out my sad story to her.
" He shook his head. "I could not believe I did that, but she has that effect on you. "
"She does." Antoinette agreed with a smile.
"Then she was offering me a job. I had told her I managed a gallery in Soho, and she told me it so happens that they needed someone for this place. 'You can go back home and wallow in self-pity or pick up the pieces of your life and start over fresh.'" He smiled slightly. "I didn't hesitate."
"And now you're here. How long ago was that?"
"Going on two years." His light blue eyes met hers. "I bet you have an even more intriguing story."
"I would hardly call it intriguing." She snorted. "But it's not one I'm willing to share."
"I understand completely." He nodded. "How about coffee tomorrow?"
Her brows lifted. "Are you hitting on me?"
"Why not?" He grinned at her. "You're a beautiful woman and we're both from the same place."
"Which means absolutely nothing. I'm officially off men at the moment."
He looked wounded. "Don't tell me you're batting for the opposite team."
She laughed at that. "I'm one hundred percent heterosexual. Just not interested in starting up anything."
"Then it's a good thing, I just want to meet for coffee." His smile turned pleading. "I'm not proposing marriage yet. Just a chance to get to know you. Coffee, and if afterwards you don't like my conversation, you never have to see me again."
"That would not be good for me." She looked around. "I happen to like this place and if I am turned off by your conversation, I would have to forgo the pleasure of visiting."
"Tell you what," he suggested. "If that happens, just send out an alert to say you're coming to the gallery and I'll make myself scarce."
"You're a funny guy." She smiled. "All right, coffee."
He sighed gustily. "You just saved me from groveling."
"I wouldn't want you to ruin the suit. Looks expensive."
He brushed a hand over the lapel. "It sure is. Why don't we exchange numbers?"
"Why don't we pick the place and meet up there?"
He regarded her steadily before shaking his head. "A cautious lady. I'm trying not to take it personally."
"You shouldn't. Pick the place and the time and I will be there."
"I get it. You want to make certain I'm not a stalker or a nuisance. I come with an excellent reference and I'm certain her highness would vouch for me."
"Nevertheless..." she left the rest of the sentence hanging.
"All right, Antoinette. I may call you that, right?"
"Of course. I will even go as far as insisting on it. And calling you Luther."
He shot her a wry look that had her laughing. She really liked the guy, but like she had said before, she was not looking for anyone. Her heart was still shattered, and her pride had taken a beating. She was here to work on herself and that was it.
"I'll give you a card with the gallery's number as well as my own personal contact information."
"Good enough."
Someone beckoned to him and he realized he was reluctant to leave her.
"Will you promise to stick around a little longer? I'm afraid duty calls."
She nodded, already turning away to check out a group of paintings to her left. "I'll be here."
*****
"How's it going over there?" Sofia stepped out of her shoes with a sigh and padded to her sitting room. "I understand that there was extensive damage to the cottages. How bad is it?"
"Pretty bad." From the cottage he was staying at, Tomas settled back on the pillows and stared up at the plain ceiling. "Thankfully, the fire started during the day, when no one was home. The flames were contained before they could reach the vines."
"I care more about the villagers. How are you, querida?" she asked in concern. "You sound worn out."
"Just a little exhausted. I'm planning on returning on Monday." He hesitated briefly before plunging on. "How's the new hire?"
Sofia stopped in the process of letting down her hair. She had dismissed her maid, preferring to do the task of undressing herself, and had stopped in to speak to Antoinette before retiring.
"She's doing great and working out even better than I anticipated. I ordered her to go to the gallery tonight. She met someone, the American I hired some time ago. I think they hit it off."
The silence that followed her comment had her smiling.
"Good for her," he said gruffly. "Perhaps her disposition will have improved somewhat."
"Tomas."
"I know, be nice. I intend to. Now I really have to go, mother. Sleep is calling my name."
Putting his phone away, he stacked his hands behind his head and resumed his contemplation of the plain ceiling. It didn't matter to him that she was into that type. He knew the guy. His mother, with her open heart and compassionate nature, had had him at the palace a few times for supper.
He always struck Tomas as an ass-kisser, always complimenting the queen on her beauty and exclaiming repeatedly how lovely the palace was. Unless he missed his guess, he could almost say the peacock had been pursuing his mother.
He snorted derisively. As if Queen Sofia would ever entertain the idea of being with someone like him.
He ignored the fact that he was feeling irked that the assistant had just met the guy and already they were fast friends.
Soon they would be lovers. Angry at how pissed off he was at the very thought, he swung his legs off the bed and went to grab a bottle of scotch.
He would do as he promised: apologize to her and stay the bloody hell out of her way. It was not like she was his type.
But the truth of it was, he had been unable to get her the hell out of his head. It was as if she had planted herself there and was lodged in deep. Taking the bottle with him, he sat on the edge of the bed and drank straight from it.
*****
Antoinette buttered scones and half listened to the enthusiastic chatter of Carmen.
She was more interested in the activities on the grounds of the palace.
She had slept in late, opening her eyes to discover that it was almost nine.
Panic had set in before she recalled that it was Saturday and she had the weekend off.
Queen Sofia had warned her that it would be this way all the time.
"So, enjoy it while you can," she had advised.
And she intended to. She would finish breakfast, laze around a little bit, and then head out for her meeting with Luther.
She refused to call it a date. It was just one American meeting another and chatting about familiar things.
She was not interested in him that way. He might be attractive and dapper.
She smiled as she remembered how he had persuaded her to stay a little longer by taking her on a tour.
And he had been delighted at her excellent grasp of the native language.
"I'm afraid that even after staying here for a period, I'm still struggling with the accent. I tend to butcher it. I might have to hire you as a tutor."
"My time is well booked."
He made her laugh and was not a threat to her. Not like... her thought veered sharply away from the danger zone. She was not going to think about him. Not one bit.
"Are you finished with the tray, Senorita Antoinette?"
"Oh." Blinking, she tore her gaze from the tour going on and realized that she had cleaned her plate. "I suppose I was hungry. Gracias, Carmen. And I wish you'd call me Antoinette."
"It would not be proper," Carmen said firmly as she bustled around the room, putting away the clothing Antoinette had discarded as she got ready for bed. "How was your night?"
"It was very good." She told the woman with a smile, accepting the extra cup of café con leche gratefully. "You know, this is beginning to grow on me."
"It's delicious. You will be going out this afternoon?"
"I will. I'm meeting someone for coffee." She grinned as she lifted the cup to her lips. "Then I intend to take a walk in the market."
The woman's swarthy face split into a wide smile.
Whirling towards the huge closet with its quaint shelves and compartments, she zeroed in on a stack of neatly folded sweaters in various jeweled colors, picking up one in emerald green.
"This and the adorable brown trousers I just laundered yesterday. "
Antoinette laughed, caught up in the woman's enthusiasm. "It's just coffee and afterwards a walk in the market."
"Then not the sweater, but the bottom." Folding the material neatly, she put it away carefully and turned towards another section of the closet. "This shirt. It echoes the color of the trousers, and I love these red and blue stripes. It's perfect."
"That's perfect."
The woman beamed gratefully and went about taking down the shirt.