Tempting the Crown(25)

I retied my hair bun for at least the tenth time, stabbing it with the pencil. I crossed my arms and began another lap around the apartment.

I heard the gentle bell of the elevator and stopped in the middle of my track, behind the couch. My heart sped up. My palms tingled. I waited for the doors to open.

“Who are you?”

Her voice was high. She was dressed in a long white gown that shimmered when she moved.

“I-I—who are you?” I retorted. Although, I didn’t know how much power I had to demand answers in this situation.

Her perfectly shaped eyebrows rose. “Princess Isabel.”

Shit. Holy shit.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” I cringed.

She placed a hand on her hip. “I take it you know where my brother is?”

“Actually I don’t.” I rounded the couch. “I’m Molly.” I extended my hand.

She looked at it. I didn’t know if I had just made a royal faux paus, but she took it with a mild shake.

“Nice to meet you, Molly.”

I smiled. “You don’t know where he is either?”

“I came straight from Sangreaux. I haven’t even changed. I need to discuss a few domestic matters with him.” She walked to the bar, letting the train on her dress slide across the floor.

I could see traces of Damon’s features. The dark hair and dark eyes. But Isabel had a certain grace, as if she floated on her designer shoes. I had to remind myself not to stare.

“Drink?” she offered.

I nodded. It seemed rude to turn the princess down, especially after I treated her like an intruder in her brother’s home.

“So how long have you been seeing my brother?” She poured both of us a vodka drink.

“It’s not really like that.”

She twirled toward me. “It’s not? Hmm.”

I didn’t know if that meant she was surprised or if I had missed her sarcasm. I felt plain in my yoga pants. I was Cinderella before she met her fairy godmother. Isabel could’ve put any Prince Charming on his knees.

“However, you are here and he is not.” She tipped her glass toward me.

I felt the need to explain, but took a sip of the lemony vodka drink. What explanation would I give the princess? I certainly wasn’t going to tell her how I met her brother. And reliving today’s events didn’t seem any better.

We turned our heads when the elevator bell rang.

Isabel rushed to the doors. “I need to talk to you.”

Damon stepped into the residence. He looked past his sister. His eyes landed on mine.

For a quick second I forgot how mad I was. How I was hauled out of the library. How I waited for hours with no word. One look and I was ready to melt into his lips again and get lost in his hands. Damn it. He was infuriatingly sexy.

“Damon,” she urged. “It’s a state matter.”

His eyes cut to her. “Can’t it wait until tomorrow, Isabel? I have plans this evening.”

“Sorry, Molly.” She quickly looked at me over her shoulder. “No, it can’t. Where have you been anyway?”

“With the Bostique prime minister. You didn’t see the press conference? The ceremony?”

I knew he was speaking to her, but I shook my head.

“You’re always doing something.” She sighed. “It’s non-stop.”

“It is part of my job.” He loosened his tie. “Would you like me to stop running the country and drop everything to hear your problems?” He unbuttoned the top button.

I felt like one of the palace servants. I was there, but practically invisible to them as they continued their sibling banter.

“No. But you could at least grant my audience when I ask for it.”

“When do I deny your audience, Isabel?”

“I didn’t want to go to Sangreaux. You know that. Instead of meeting with me, you sealed the itinerary and I was on a plane.”

He closed his eyes. “Let’s continue this in my office.”

He led her across the room and into his private study. I watched until the door was closed. I sat on the sofa with my vodka, waiting for one of them to emerge. I could hear them argue from where I sat. It was back and forth. Neither one letting it get out of hand, but there was no doubt it was heated.

A few minutes later, I heard Isabel’s heels click across the floor. I turned to watch her.

“Good night, Molly. It was a pleasure to meet you.” She tapped the elevator button.

“Good night.” I rose from the sofa.

The door opened and the princess disappeared in a blur of glittery white.

“Bon soir, Molly.”

His voice gave me chills.

I had enough time to prepare to come out swinging. Ample opportunity to perfect the lines I should have said. It could have been eloquent and fiery.