Reluctantly Royal

by Gillian Archer

  “It would make things difficult for the palace.” I sighed in resignation. “How many meetings are scheduled for today?”

  “Four, Your Highness.”

  I twisted my head to the side to work out the kink that had suddenly developed as tension laced my body. “Fine. But everyone must be gone by five o’clock. And I’ll need your help with a few of my plans for this evening. I need you to coordinate everything with Nicolas so there are no more awkward interruptions tonight.”

  “Oui, Your Highness. I can do that.”

  I grabbed a comb and pulled it through my hair. “What time will the first appointment be here?”

  “Twenty minutes, Your Highness. Breakfast is waiting for you in the outer salon.”

  I stared at the resolute man in the mirror reflected back at me. One day. Not even twelve hours before I could be a regular guy again. No “Your Highness” from Hannah. No bowing and scraping and profuse flowery apologies. Just fun, laughter, and hopefully a hell of a lot of making out.

  “Fine. Let’s get this over with.” I turned away from the serious eyes in the mirror and started my long, boring day. The only thing getting me through every excruciating minute was the promise I had seen in Hannah’s eyes the night before.

  —

  Hours and hours later, the knock came at my suite door that I’d been waiting for all day. I darted around the flustered Aristide and opened it myself. “Hannah. You look…Comment ça se dit…” I sighed in appreciation. “Magnifique.”

  Hannah wore a green top with thin straps that showed off her lightly tanned shoulders to perfection. It made me want to trace the delicate bones with my tongue. Right after I tossed up her flowy patterned skirt and got down on my knees in front of her. Funny, most of my fantasies about Hannah involved her and my tongue and not much else.

  Her cheeks darkened with her blush, and she fidgeted with a wisp of hair near her temple as my appraisal of her grew longer than polite. “You are a ridiculous flatterer, Luc.”

  “Non,” I whispered in reply just before I leaned forward and gave her a soft kiss. Stepping back, I held the door wide. “You are gorgeous. Please, come in.”

  Hannah walked through the doorway with wide eyes. “What did you say you did again? Because this suite is…” Hannah shook her head helplessly. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

  I tipped my head at Étienne standing in the hall, then closed the door. Avoiding Aristide’s eyes, I turned to Hannah. “You don’t really want to talk about my work, do you?”

  Hannah’s eyes darted around the spacious suite, and the more she looked, the more her shoulders rounded. “I just…I can’t believe…”

  “It’s all a bit much, I agree. But fortunately, there are a few of us to share the space—which reminds me, let me introduce my, er, coworker, Aristide.”

  Aristide didn’t bat an eye at my awkward introduction as he shook Hannah’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you. I was just leaving.”

  “Oh, no,” Hannah murmured. “We’re not kicking you out of your room, are we?”

  “Non,” Aristide demurred. Which wasn’t technically a lie, since this wasn’t his room. Christ, all this subterfuge was grating. Aristide turned to me and relayed in French. “The table is waiting. Staff have been instructed not to interrupt you for the evening. Please enjoy.”

  “Thank you, Ari.” I stepped back so he could leave.

  “Is everything all right?” Hannah asked, concern wrinkling her brow.

  “Yes, I apologize for our lack of manners. Ari was just telling me that dinner had been set up while I was busy getting dressed. Are you ready for your surprise?”

  “I’m pretty sure I already got one today,” she murmured as the door closed behind Aristide. “This suite is amazing.”

  I laughed at her delight. I’d never felt that amazement at a hotel room before. The suite was in line with the kind of accommodation I’d lived with my entire life—outside of the military. Hell, even my house in France was ostentatious by most standards. Hannah’s wonder was intoxicating. I wanted to experience it, too.

  “Come, let me show you around.” I took her hand in mine and lead her through the room. From the bar, we each took a glass of champagne that Aristide had thoughtfully poured.

  “Wow, you have a chandelier inside your room!”

  “There’s another in my bedroom.”

  Hannah turned to me and raised an eyebrow. “Oh, God. Don’t tell me that’s where my surprise is waiting.”

  “Non.” I laughed. “I wouldn’t be so predictable, mon chou. Besides, that’s not exactly a surprise.”

  “Touché. I did get to fondle it a bit last night.” She gave me a naughty smile as she stepped closer to me until I could feel her body heat. “I hope he didn’t get too lonely today.”

  “Non, he had five friends to keep him company this morning.”

  Hannah frowned until I held up my hand and wiggled my fingers, then she snorted. “And here I was worried you were so rich and out of my league. But you’re really just as classy as me.”

  “You have no idea.” I laughed down at her before I gave her a tender kiss that was full of laughter from both of us. After a beat, I pulled away with a smile on my face. “Come, let’s go enjoy your surprise.”

  With an arm around her shoulders, I led Hannah out to the balcony where Aristide and the hotel employees had set up a romantic dinner, complete with white tablecloth and battery-operated flickering candles. It was a cheesy scene, I admit, but I grinned like a fool when Hannah gasped with delight.

  “Oh, wow, this is amazing! I take it back. You are too classy for me.”

  I tapped the fake candle and laughed. “Not exactly the definition of class, but they wouldn’t allow us to have an open flame, so this was the best we could do.”

  “No, it’s perfect. Every bit of it. Thank you.”

  “I’m delighted you think so. I’m afraid I couldn’t compete with your creativity, so I decided to go with a standard tried-and-true.” I winced. “Not that I’ve had anyone else up here for a candlelit dinner. That was clumsy of me. I meant, the dinner and you.” Suddenly my English failed me. My tongue was tied in knots.

  “It’s okay, Luc. I know what you mean.”

  I sighed. “My brain and tongue do not get along when I’m with you. You make me forget everything I know.”

  “I think that’s the nicest compliment anyone has ever given me. Thank you.”

  I kissed her again, tempted to take this kiss deeper, but Hannah deserved better than that, so after a moment I took a step back and smiled down at her. “Please have a seat.”

  Hannah’s cheeks were flushed, and judging by the sparkle in her eyes, she was contemplating the same thing I had a moment ago. But after a beat she ducked her head and sat in the offered chair. I lifted the cloches covering our plates, then sat in the chair across from Hannah.

  “I wasn’t sure of your stance on oysters and shellfish, so I got a selection of everything that I enjoy—kind of a tour of my tastes. If there’s something you do not like, I’m pretty sure there’s twelve more plates over there we can try.” I nodded toward the table behind Hannah that had over a dozen plates, each covered with a metal cloche.

  “That’s good, because there’s no way you’re getting me to eat oysters. Especially not raw on the half shell.” Hannah made an adorable face and shuddered.

  “No problem.” I jumped to my feet and scooped both plates off the table.

  “Wait, you can keep yours. Please enjoy them. I didn’t mean to—”

  “If oysters give you that reaction, there’s no way I’m chancing eating them myself. I have definite plans for later and none of them involve you getting sick over my plate of oysters.” I carried our plates over to the side table and shoved them under the concealing tablecloth. “Now, do you have any strong feelings about steak tartare?”

  Hannah made the face again, so I moved on.

  “How about foie gras?”

  Hannah’s nose s
crunched up again. “How about nothing raw or involving force-feeding animals to death?”

  “I can work with that. How about salade Niçoise?”

  “Perfect, as long as you’re not offended when I don’t eat the anchovies.”

  “You have a deal.” I scooped up the salad plate and a selection of cheeses and breads, then returned to the table. “So tell me, have you always been such a hard-to-please woman? Because it didn’t feel that way last night.”

  Hannah bit her lip, then burst out laughing. “Did you just call me a whore?”

  “What? No! When?”

  “I wasn’t ‘hard to please’ last night?”

  I closed my eyes and muttered a curse word under my breath. “Do you know I previously had a reputation of being a suave and well-mannered man before you?”

  “Wait, so you’re blaming me for your insult?”

  “Yes. Non. I mean—” I gave an aggravated groan. “It’s the whole brain-tongue disconnect that happens when I’m around you.”

  Hannah smiled mischievously. “Well, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “I meant it as one. What I was trying to say before was have you always been so difficult when it comes to food?”

  Hannah shrugged as she stirred her salad with her fork. “Probably. I learned early that life is short, so why waste it doing the stuff you don’t like. You know? I don’t agree with the whole force-feeding ducks to make their livers taste good, steak should be cooked, and raw oysters remind me of snot.”

  I choked on my bite of salad and coughed until tears came to my eyes.

  “Are you okay? Do you need some water?” Hannah darted to my side and helpfully patted my back as I continued to cough. “I’m so sorry. Me and my big mouth. You know, my dad warned me that my mouth would get me into trouble, but I always thought he meant legal trouble. Or with my boss. Well, actually, that last one is true.”

  My coughing turned to laughter as Hannah continued to babble. “Stop, stop. I’m fine. Really.” I coughed one more time and Hannah gave me a huge wallop. “Really. I’m fine. Please stop hitting me.”

  “Oh, my god. I’m so sorry. Again. Really. Are you okay?”

  “Oui. Yes. Please sit. Eat.”

  “And stop hitting you. I got it.” Hannah’s face probably matched mine in color as she hunched over her salad.

  I leaned forward and caressed her hand. “Really. I’m fine. You didn’t bruise anything, and I’m still breathing. But what is this about your boss? Are you having troubles?”

  Hannah gave me a twisted smile. “Mmm, nothing I want to trouble you with.”

  “My mother always said: A trouble shared is a trouble halved. What’s bothering you?”

  Hannah released a heavy sigh. “If you only knew the half of it.”

  “So tell me half of it.”

  “Lord, you just don’t give up, do you? Fine. I told the salon owner, Kennedy, that I would be taking some time off—I’ve already arranged it with all my clients, either moving their appointments or recommending other cosmetologists—and Kennedy gave me no end of hassle. That it’s not good for business to have a station sit empty, even though I’ve already paid the rent for my station this month. So I officially gave notice. By the end of the month I’ll be salonless, and quite possibly clientless after Kennedy gets done bad-mouthing me to everyone in town. That’s at least half of my problem.”

  “That’s a pretty big problem.”

  “You’re telling me.” Hannah poked at her salad with an unhappy expression. She blinked a few times as her eyes welled with tears before setting her shoulders with a grim smile. “But hey, at least that toxic bitch is out of my life, right? Anyhow, I’m sorry to bring our night down.”

  “I’m sorry you’re going through this. But I am not, however sorry that I asked. So you need somewhere to work? I could ask—”

  “No, thank you. I was planning on taking some time off anyhow, so I’m not sure when I’d be able to accept appointments again.”

  I wanted to ask about her sudden need to take time off work, but something about her body language made me hesitate. It’d been like pulling teeth to get this one worry out of her; I didn’t want to upset her by prying further. Besides, I was only in town one more week—we were the definition of temporary. I doubted she wanted to share more of her troubles with me. “Well, then, I believe it’s time to move onto the next course.”

  “Oooh, let me. It’s a bit like being the glamorous girl on a game show. Or a magician.” Hannah stood up and ran to the side table. “For my next trick, I will unveil something we will both enjoy.” Hannah ripped off the cloche and her face fell. “Or not.”

  “Not a fan of oursin, sea urchin, I take it?”

  “It looks like snot.” Hannah shuddered slightly. “You really eat that?”

  “Oui. It’s one of my favorites.” I watched Hannah’s expression turn pale as she surveyed the spiny brown shell, cracked open, and the brown and orange sludge decorating the inside. “Maybe you want to try another trick?”

  The cloche fell on top of the plate with a clatter as she hurriedly moved to the next dish. “Voilà.”

  I waited for her to say something, but she didn’t right away. After a moment she raised her eyes, and I could see her worried expression.

  “Please tell me that’s not intestine.”

  “We call it Andouillete. It’s really quite delicious. Once you get past the pungent smell, it tastes—”

  “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  I quickly stood up, but Hannah had already covered the dish and moved onto the next.

  “You do enjoy normal food, too? Like chicken or beef? The non-organ bits? You know, like meat?”

  I laughed. “Yes, there should be at least one chicken dish and a steak somewhere on the table.”

  “It’s like a game of whack-a-mole. Just when I think there can’t be anymore offal—” She uncovered the next dish and made a comically disgusted face. “Come on, tripe? Really?”

  “You have something against stomach?”

  “Only when it’s not my own and someone wants me to eat it. Ugh. I don’t know if this is gonna work. You clearly like offal, guh, and I’m not a salad-only kinda girl. I need to eat something more substantial than lettuce.”

  My shoulders shook with my suppressed laughter. “Keep going.”

  “Ah.” Hannah smiled when she unveiled the coq au vin. “Now this is what I’m talking about. Chicken. Good, edible chicken. And mine. Do you want one of the offal plates, or should I keep going?”

  “Keep going. There should be a steak au poivre, too. I’m in the mood for red meat.” And something told me it’d be difficult for her to enjoy the rest of the evening if she had to watch me eat offal. Hannah found the filet dish and brought both plates back to the table.

  I watched with a smile as Hannah took her first bite. She made a few happy noises that I wouldn’t mind hearing later in the bedroom. Christ, everything about her just made me smile. “For someone who detests this kind of cuisine, you were able to identify most of them by sight, and you know more about foie gras than I do. I practically grew up on it. Where’d all that knowledge come from?”

  “It’s something my dad and I do…or used to do, I guess. It’s been a while since we went out together. Vegas has become something of a culinary mecca—every chef who is a name has a restaurant in one casino or another. So when I was feeling down as a teenager, my dad would take me out on dates. It was so sweet. He always wanted me to have the best of anything. And for a while there, when it looked like I wouldn’t have much—” She shook her head and looked away for a moment. Then she seemed to gather herself and gave me a smile, but it looked forced. “Sorry, got lost in the memories there for a second. Anyway, we’d go out to dinner and order whatever amazing thing the restaurant was known for or some dish we’d seen on Food Network and had never tried before. Some of it wasn’t something I’d ever try again, but I wouldn’t give up a single memory of those nights togethe
r.”

  “Sounds like your dad is pretty great.”

  “He is. It’s going to be hard for me to ever settle on a man who’s anything less than the amazing example my dad was—is. He’d do anything for his family. I need to call him. We haven’t talked in a while.”

  I nodded as I cut into my filet mignon. I wanted to ask her more about her family, but Hannah had grown pensive and didn’t seem to be open to talking at the moment. I couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking about. Did it have to do with the other half of the problem she mentioned earlier? Was it something to do with her family? What was going on that put a frown on her beautiful face? We passed the next few minutes in silence that was broken only by the sound of our utensils scraping on our plates.

  Once most of Hannah’s meal was eaten, she looked up at me with a grimace. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what is wrong with me. I’m not usually so moody on a date. Maybe it would be best if I said good night.”

  “Please. It’s fine. I’ve had my share of doldrums, too. I believe we’ve come to the crème brûlée portion of the evening.”

  “The only way dessert could fix this is if I can eat yours as well.” Hannah teased me with a smile.

  “Consider it done.” I smiled in return as I scooped up our plates and disposed of them on the side table before picking up the desserts. I placed both down on Hannah’s side of the table.

  “Oh, no! I was teasing. I didn’t mean for you to actually give up your dessert. Please take it.”

  “I intend to.” I bent down and picked Hannah up. She squealed, but I was already sitting down in her chair with her in my lap and facing the table. “Can I borrow your spoon?”

  “Oh, my god. Is this a thing with you? Sitting in laps? You know there’s a whole other chair over there you can use.”

  “I know, but I thought you needed a hug and dessert, so this seemed to be the most efficient way to accomplish both.”

  Hannah smiled bashfully as she relaxed in my arms. “Well, look at you. You must’ve gone to college; you’re so smart.”