by J. Kenner
At the time, relief had flooded through her. Now, she regretted the decision. With her hesitancy to speak much and the long hours of studying, plus the travel back and forth from campus to downtown, she hadn’t made many friends in law school.
If she’d agreed to share the house, maybe by now she’d have a group of friends to study with. Or at least to share a late-night movie marathon. But she’d chickened out, and for the most part, law school was a solo journey for her.
Still, she did have some friends, and one of them was waiting for her at The Fix on Sixth.
The light changed, and she crossed Congress Avenue, heading east toward the bar and away from her condo. She’d just crossed Brazos when her phone pinged. She glanced down and saw that the text was from Hannah.
Matthew surprised me by coming home early. Getting naked and blowing you off. XXOO
Skye shook her head at the irony, then frowned, pausing outside the wooden doors that led into The Fix. She was happy for Hannah, but the idea of going to a bar alone didn’t appeal to her. Sure, she liked the staff, and after coming to The Fix regularly for more than two years, she felt mostly comfortable talking to them. But they’d be working. And Skye was the last person in the world who wanted to strike up a conversation with a stranger.
Still, she’d come all this way…
She reached for the door, hesitated, and changed her mind. A crowded bar on a Friday night where strangers would be mingling and talking? Definitely not the kind of stress she needed going into the weekend. Besides, she really should be thinking about antitrust law.
As she took a step backward, the door opened outward and she stumbled. She registered a blur of motion, then a firm, strong hand closing around hers, pulling her upright and steadying her.
“I am so sorry.” The voice was deep and male, with an accent she couldn’t place. “I wasn’t looking where I—”
He lifted his head, met her eyes, and stopped speaking. The guy from last night.
“You.” Her heart pounded against her ribs, and once again she felt as if she might topple over.
“Funny,” he said in that adorable accent. “I was just going to say that.” He stepped all the way out, the doors closing behind him as they lingered on the sidewalk.
“You were … looking at me.” The words came out slow and thick, her speech more distorted than usual. Which, of course, made her want to go hide under the nearest rock. “Last … night,” she added, feeling like an idiot, and wishing she’d just kept her mouth shut.
“I was looking at you?” The corner of his mouth twitched, and those blue eyes lit with humor. “I believe it was you doing the looking.”
Clearly he’d had no trouble understanding her, and if he found her speech impediment annoying, he hid it well. Skye had to fight a ridiculously stupid grin as she said, “Oh … no. You were the one looking. For sure.”
“Do I seem like the kind of man who would be so impolite as to ogle a beautiful woman?”
“Um, yeah.” She grinned. He matched her smile, and it made him so handsome, her knees went a little weak.
“It’s like you already know me,” he said, and this time she couldn’t stop the laughter.
Banter. She was actually bantering with this guy. How had that happened?
“Why don’t we split the difference and say that we were looking at each other?”
“Yes,” she said, managing to control her giggles. “I can … live with … that.”
He turned toward the door, and she wanted the ground to swallow her up, since he was obviously now making a quick getaway. But then he flashed that smile again. “You were on your way in, weren’t you?”
“I—yes. I mean, no.”
“Well, that’s rather confusing, isn’t it?”
She cleared her throat and concentrated on speaking slowly and breathing properly. Usually she didn’t have to focus so much, but he made her unreasonably nervous. “I was going to meet a friend. But she cancelled on me.”
“So you were going to leave and deny those of us in the bar the pleasure of seeing you?”
“You were leaving, too.”
“Something I never would have contemplated had I known you were about to enter.”
“You’re sweet.” She looked down to hide both her blush and her nerves. “But … I should go. I have … finals coming up, and—”
“What are you studying?”
It was a common enough question, almost the equivalent of “How’s it going.” But he seemed genuinely interested.
“Law.”
“Really? I wouldn’t have taken you for a lawyer last night.” His head tilted slightly as he looked at her, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Actually, maybe I would have.”
“Why?”
“You looked like you were debating. That was one of the things that kept drawing my eyes back to you.”
She’d been with Hannah and her law partner, Easton, both of whom Skye was comfortable speaking around. That, however, did not make for an accurate first impression. “I … don’t usually talk that … much.”
“Really? I’m surprised.”
He spoke with no irony at all, but the words were just too much. The man wasn’t deaf, which meant he had to be pulling her chain, and that pissed her off.
“Surprised? Then … you … are an … idiot.” She turned away and started down the sidewalk. What the hell? It was one thing to ignore her speech. Another altogether to mock it.
She’d only gone five steps when he moved in front of her, blocking her path. “Please forgive me. That came out terribly wrong.”
She considered pushing him aside—after all, she didn’t know this guy and owed him nothing—but she heard real mortification in that polished voice.
She nodded, quick and sharp. “Apology accepted. Please … move.”
“I only meant that you looked as if you were having a real conversation, not just random bar talk. I took you as a woman who goes deeper than small talk. I didn’t mean to mock your speech. Is it dysarthria?”
Her spine went straight. “You know that?”
“My uncle was thrown from a horse when he was fifteen. He was treated, of course, and had regular therapy. And though there was some improvement in the early years, he never regained what most people would call normal speech.” He smiled warmly at her. “He had his own normal, and though we could hear the difference, it bothered no one. The family was very matter-of-fact about his speech, and to be honest no one outside the family would have thought of teasing him or looking down on him because of it.”
“Oh.” Outside group therapy as a child and some volunteer work she did in a nursing home with stroke survivors, she’d never met anyone else with the condition. “What did he do for a living?”
“He was an advisor in, ah, the family business. He spoke quite a bit. Made presentations. That kind of thing. It was both a public and important job.”
“I was five,” she said, the words surprising her. “A car wreck. It … killed my mother.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you. And—well, I’m sorry I … snapped.”
“No, I was insensitive.” He tilted his head in a small nod, the gesture seeming both charming and old-fashioned. “So the man at your table yesterday….”
“Yes?”
“When the woman with you left, you and he seemed more … engaged.”
“Oh, no. I’m not getting … married.”
He chuckled, and her face burned as she realized he didn’t mean that kind of engaged.
Thankfully it was too dark for him to see her cheeks, and she started walking again. Fast.
“No, no,” he said, hurrying to catch up “I meant that the conversation seemed intense.” He paused. “You’re really not seeing him? Or anyone?”
She slowed her pace, shaking her head as she looked sideways at him. “We were making plans. For Hannah’s birthday. Nothing more.”
The corner of his mouth curved up in the mo
st adorable grin. “Well, that’s good information to have, isn’t it?”
“Is it?” Her voice sounded breathy.
“Have you ever heard of quantum entanglement?”
She made a whooshing motion over her head.
He waved the words away. “Sorry. Not important. Let’s just say you caught my eye.”
She wanted to press him to tell her more, but she knew enough to know that he was talking physics. And frankly, a science lecture wasn’t the direction she wanted this conversation to go. Not law, either, for that matter.
Rational thought warred with desire, and she hugged herself, wanting to join him for a drink, but also terrified by the idea. She didn’t date much—hell, she didn’t date at all—and right before finals hardly seemed like the time to start.
She cleared her throat, determined to stay focused. “I should get home.” A group of three drunk guys stumbled by, all ogling her and whistling. Harmless, but annoying. She ignored them, her attention still on her companion. “I’ve got finals soon.”
Disappointment registered on his face, but he only nodded, then extended his hand. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
“My condo’s close. I’m fine.”
His attention cut back toward the three drunken guys, then returned to her. “Then I’ll walk you to your door.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“No, but I know how daunting it can be to feel like you’re being watched. Like you can’t go from one place to another safely. Please, let me escort you.”
She realized he spoke with an exactness to his words. His voice polished and careful. “Why do you know that?” she asked as they walked slowly down the street.
“Let’s just say I’ve had an interesting life.”
“You’re too young to have completely had a life yet.”
“I’m twenty-six. So let’s say that I’ve had an interesting life so far.”
She nodded slowly. “Are your parents celebrities?”
“Something like that.”
“That must be hard,” she said. “Being in the spotlight. They chose it, but you didn’t. But ultimately, you’ll … have your own life.”
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. I come from a very traditional family,” he said, “but I also know that we’re very old school. And definitely an anomaly compared to most of the population.”
She was about to ask what he meant when he continued.
“And you? Were you born into a family of lawyers? Or have you chosen this path?”
“Both. My great-grandfather founded a firm. I’ll join, but only if my grades … are up to the firm’s standards. And only … after I clerk for a judge.”
“You’re not willing to just skate because you’re family.”
He said it with approval, and she stood a little taller, amazed that he recognized that in her. And liked it.
“What if you didn’t want to be a lawyer?” he asked as they approached the cross street. “What if you truly didn’t want to, but you absolutely had to?”
The question was so surprising that she actually stumbled to a stop, then looked him up and down. She had no idea why he was asking it. He might simply be making conversation, but somehow she doubted it.
She licked her lips, not sure what the best answer would be, so she said the only true thing that came to mind. “My family wouldn’t do that to me.” But even as she said the words, she wondered if they were true. Her father had aspirations for her, after all.
“Pretend.”
She frowned but tried to really think about the question. “I … I don’t know. I wouldn’t want to let them down, but…”
She trailed off with a shrug, and he nodded.
“Exactly,” he said. “But.”
For a moment, they stood in silence, then his lips curved in a slow smile. “Will you do me a favor?”
She swallowed, feeling a little excited, a little nervous. She had the strange realization that she’d been flirting, something that had never come naturally to her, but it felt good with this guy. Easy. “I don’t know. What’s the favor?”
“Will you turn around and let me buy you a drink?”
She thought of finals coming up. About how she’d been almost relieved that Hannah had bailed on her, because she needed to go lock herself in her apartment, curl up in bed with a mug of coffee and her antitrust book and learn everything she could.
She had things to do, law to learn, concepts to evaluate and turn over in her head until they made sense and felt like a part of her. It was important stuff. Important to her grade and the career she so desperately craved.
But she knew other things were important too, and for some inexplicable reason, she thought that this guy might be one of those things. “I’m Skye,” she said.
“Leo. And is that a yes?”
She nodded, and when he took her hand, it felt like the start of something wonderful.
Chapter Five
“I guess this is our place,” Skye said, after he’d urged her to blow off studying and head back to the bar.
They were standing just inside The Fix on Sixth, looking in at the large room filled with talking, laughing people gathered near the Austin, Texas, mural or sitting at the long, oak bar that ran along the west wall.
“I guess it is,” he said, surprised by the butterflies in his stomach that had flapped into motion at the thought of him and Skye having their own place. “And it looks like we have a welcoming committee.”
She turned her head to look at him quizzically, and he nodded across the room to the broad-shouldered man in a hoodie. The man’s shadowed eyes narrowed as his head cocked to the side as if in question.
“Oh, that’s Griffin,” Skye told him. “He’s a writer. He … camps out here a lot when he’s not traveling.”
“And he’s staring me down because…?” Leopold hoped she had an answer. That this man had an unrequited, but completely understandable crush on Skye, for example. What he didn’t want to learn was that Griffin had recognized him and was about to post a royal sighting on Twitter.
“He might be … worried about me.”
Leopold frowned. “Because I look like a dangerous psycho?”
Her laugh delighted him. “No. Because he … might have noticed me looking at you last night.” Her cheeks bloomed a delightful shade of pink. “He’s probably checking up on me.”
“Oh.” Leopold nodded. “Well, I can’t fault a friend for that.”
“Do you mind?” She took a single step away from him, and he felt her absence immediately. The reaction was surprising—and entirely pleasant. “He knows … I should be studying. He probably … thinks you’re a bad influence.”
“That’s what my family is always saying,” he admitted. “I’m the original bad boy.”
She bit her lip as she studied him, and it took all his effort not to take a nip himself. “I’m not sure I believe that,” she finally said. “But if you are … that could be fun, too.”
Her blush deepened, and he grinned. Somehow he had a feeling that this girl was not the kind to fall for bad boys, and he had a sudden quick stab of regret for all the times that he’d gone a little wild back home.
“I’ll be right back,” she promised, then squeezed his fingers before crossing the bar, the warmth of her touch lingering with her lavender scent.
He watched her go, surprisingly relieved to have a moment to gather himself. He was undeniably nervous. Him.
It was ridiculous. He met regularly with heads of state and never had butterflies. He was raised to not be nervous. Other people were supposed to be nervous around him. He wasn’t meant to feel this way. And yet there it was, impossible to miss. Sweaty palms. And those butterflies in his stomach that suggested that whatever he was doing with her was the most important thing in the world.
Leopold settled himself at a table and ordered them both Loaded Coronas. Then he leaned back and searched the bar. She was still there, talking with the writer who kept sneaking glanc
es at Leopold from under that hoodie.
He sipped his drink, enjoying the taste of the beer mixed with rum. As he swallowed, he watched Skye, fascinated by her.
He’d never been attracted to a woman at first sight. He could appreciate a woman, of course, but there’d never been this kind of attraction. He tried to tell himself that it wasn’t real. That this was simply a product of him not having dated in a while.
Somehow, he didn’t believe that.
From across the room, Skye caught his eye and waved, then held up two fingers, presumably meaning she’d be back in two minutes. Not a problem. He was content to sip his beer and watch her.
He frowned, feeling eyes on him. Then he turned and saw Jürgen.
The man did his job well, Leopold had to give him that. He’d known the bodyguard had been shadowing them as they walked, and it was to Jürgen’s credit that Leopold was able to completely erase the man from his mind.
He lifted his drink in a subtle toast, and grinned when Jürgen toasted him right back, then tilted his head toward Skye and gave him a small thumbs up.
Leopold rolled his eyes and turned back to the table, but he was more pleased by the approval than he should be.
He glanced at the menu, wondering what kind of appetizers she’d like. When he looked up again, he didn’t see her. A chill shot through his entire body, the fear that she had decided to leave. That her friend had told her that it was a bad idea to go out for drinks with a guy she barely knew, or that she’d found another guy she wanted to be with more.
He felt panic rise, and the Crown Prince of Avelle-am-see did not panic. Except, apparently, he did.
Then he saw her, and the world leveled again. He took a long sip of his drink, finishing off the bottle, and leaned back before signaling for another. This was not good. He barely knew this woman. So why was he letting her get under his skin this way?
The answer became clear when she came back to the table, smiling and laughing.
