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An American Cinderella:A Royal Love Story(8)

By:Krista Lakes


"Jaqui is a good guesser," he replied. "I am from Paradisa."

The way his accent wrapped around his homeland made it sound rich and warm. There was love in the way he said where he was from.

"Are you just visiting? Or are you coming to stay in America?" I asked, pulling on his arm to have him cross the street with me.

"Just visiting," he replied. He glanced at me as we resumed walking on the sidewalk, as if he was trying to figure me out.

"Business or pleasure?" I asked him, feeling like I was playing twenty  questions, but I wanted to know more about him. He dropped my arm and  stopped walking, pausing in the middle of the sidewalk. He just looked  at me, his blue eyes unreadable. The wind ruffled the red-gold hair  peeking out under his hat.

"What?" I asked, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "Did I say something wrong?"

He shook his head and smiled. "No. You're perfect," he told me. "I'm just not used to so many questions."

"I can stop, if you want," I replied, feeling a blush cross my face  again. "My dad always said my curiosity would get the best of me."

"No, it's wonderful," he replied, giving me a smile. "I'm here for business."

"So, you'll leave then?" I tried to keep the disappointment out of my voice. "You'll be going home? How long are you staying?"

He looked over and gave me a cocky grin. "Why? You think you'll miss me?"

I did my best to shrug. "I just met you. How could I miss you?"

The confident smirk didn't leave his face. "I plan on staying here for  at least a month. I might be able to stay longer. If the conditions were  right."

My heart did a little flip flop. I could try and make those conditions  even better. I hadn't known him for very long, but I certainly wanted  to. I wanted to know him a lot longer.

I cleared my throat, feeling the blush settle on my cheeks. "The  restaurant's just over there," I said, trying to keep from getting ahead  of myself. I didn't even know the guy's full name. I couldn't start  planning our life together just yet.

"What does the R stand for?" Henry asked as we crossed the last street to the little sandwich shop.

"The R?" I asked, confused.

"Aria R?" He repeated. "That who you told me to ask for."

"Oh, right." I nodded, remembering that I had told him to ask for me at the security desk that way. "It's Ritter. Aria Ritter."

"Aria Ritter," Henry repeated. The way his accent curled around my name  made my belly heat. There was warmth and sexuality to it that I'd never  heard before. When he said my name, it sounded exotic and beautiful.

"And what's yours?" I asked him. "You never did give it to me."

"Henry Prescott," he replied, ducking his head politely. It was a good name, even if it didn't seem to suit him.

"Well, Henry Prescott, it's very nice to meet you," I told him.

He chuckled and opened the door to the grilled cheese shop, holding it  open for me like a gentleman. Again I was struck by his politeness. It  had been a while since anyone had held a door open for me on a date.

The restaurant was small, but smelled amazing. The aroma of thick,  crunchy bread, melty cheese, and all sorts of meats filled the space.  The sandwiches were all made to order along a tall counter, and tables  and chairs were tucked into every available corner. There was some patio  seating too, now that it was finally getting warmer.         

     



 

Luckily, we beat the lunch rush. Given the close proximity to the White  House, this place was usually packed with tourists and assistants  grabbing lunch for their politician bosses. Today was our lucky day.  There were only a few people in line ahead of us, giving Henry enough  time to look over the menu.

"I'll have the Young American with roasted red peppers added," I told the clerk when it was our turn to order.

"The Classic for me," Henry said politely. "And an order of loaded tots to share."

The clerk nodded and took Henry's card before I had a chance to even get my wallet out.

"You don't have to pay," I told him as the clerk returned his card. He smiled at me as he pocketed it.

"I said I was buying you lunch," he replied, his eyes bright. "I did knock you over, remember?"

I thought about the grass stains on my slacks yesterday. They'd come out  easily enough, but I wasn't going to complain about him buying me  lunch. "Alright, then."

We walked along the counter, following the progress of our sandwiches.  His hand went to the small of my back as we shuffled along. All my  attention went to the way his fingertips hovered on the silk of my  shirt. It was all I could think about. I wanted him to touch me more.

I glanced over at him from the corner of my eye. He was busy watching  his sandwich being made. He frowned slightly, watching as they put it on  the grill. His brows came together as he studied how they made a  grilled cheese sandwich.

It was adorable.

Don't get attached, I warned myself. He's just here on business. He's going to have to leave eventually.

But I didn't really care. I didn't want to miss my chance with him  simply because I had been too afraid to give something a chance. I liked  him. He said he was going to be here a month, maybe more. Even though  the idea of losing yet another person in my life terrified me, I wasn't  about to shut myself away in my office.

The only way to find my way in the world was to take chances. Henry was a risk I was willing to take.

"Do you want to eat outside?" Henry asked as we waited. "It's warm today, but we can eat inside if it's too cold."

"Outside is wonderful. It's been so warm. It feels like a shame not to enjoy the nice weather."

He nodded and picked up the tray with our sandwiches and deftly carried  it out to the patio. We sat under an umbrella, but still in the  sunshine. The slight breeze was just cool enough I was glad I wore long  sleeves. Summer was on its way, but not here yet.

He balanced the tray on one hand and carefully settled the plates on the table.

"You must have done this before," I teased him as he settled into his  chair. He frowned slightly and I pointed to the plates. "The plates.  Were you a waiter?"

He chuckled. "No, just lots of watching others. And natural grace, of course."

I giggled as he winked at me. "Natural grace, huh? Just like how you ran into me was graceful?"

"If you were paying attention, you would have noticed that it was a  perfect tackle. My coach would have been proud," he replied, picking up  his sandwich.

I picked up mine and took a bite. Delicious cheese with the sweet hints  of pepper filled my mouth. It was perfect as usual. I looked over,  curious to see what Henry thought of his first bite.

He took a delicate bite, one that looked almost proper. I half expected  him to get up and grab a fork. He chewed carefully, evaluating the  flavors.

"I think my childhood self missed out on something," he told me. "This is delicious. I would have eaten this every day."

I grinned and took another bite of my sandwich, glad that I had picked a  restaurant he liked. There was nothing worse than suggesting a  restaurant and having your date hate it.

"So, what sport do you play?" I asked, taking another bite of food. He  looked up surprised. "You said your coach would be proud."

"Oh, right." He swallowed. "I play rugby."

"Rugby?" I quickly racked my brain trying to remember which ball was  used for that game. I could honestly say that I'd heard of it, but that  I'd never seen it played. Or even met anyone who actually played it.

"You can look me up," he said, smiling as he ate his meal. "I play for the Paradisa Royals."

That must be what the R on his hat stood for.

"Is that a professional team?" I asked, pulling out my phone. If he told me to look him up, I wasn't about to wait until later.

"Semi-professional," he admitted, taking a large bite of his sandwich.  "This is delicious, by the way. I don't know if I mentioned that."         

     



 

I giggled as I googled his name. Henry Prescott.

Several team images popped up of the Paradisa Royals. Henry's grinning  face stood out from among the team. Most of the images had him covered  in mud.

"Looks rough," I replied, scanning through his results. It seemed like  Henry Prescott was a good player. He was obviously not the best player  on the team, but a well-loved one.

Everything seemed pretty normal about Henry Prescott. Most of the  information on him was about his rugby career. He appeared to be one of  the secondary players, but important to the team. There was more, but it  all seemed to focus on his rugby skills. I was going to have to do a  little sleuthing on him later.

"Have you ever been to a game?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Nope. I can't say that I have."

"Maybe I'll take you to one," he said, reaching over and popping a tater tot into his mouth with a grin.