And there it was—reality. Armando was already standing, a hand out to help her to her feet. Although she tried to fight it, desire pooled in the pit of Rosa’s stomach the moment his fingers closed around hers, answering her question.
“Are you all right?”
Naturally, he would notice and show concern. Her fantasy evening wouldn’t be complete otherwise.
“Everything’s perfect,” she replied. Except for one tiny problem, that was.
She’d just realized she was falling for him.
* * *
Armando called for the car to be brought around, then accompanied Rosa downstairs. Back in the bright light, he saw that the front of her hair had worked loose from its clip, the result of their kiss. The strands begged to be brushed away from her skin, and he had to clench his fists rather than give in to the temptation.
The driver was waiting when they stepped outside. Upon seeing them, he opened the door and snapped to attention. “Your Highness.” He sounded surprised.
“Just walking Rosa out,” Armando replied. For a second, he had the crazy idea of joining her on the ride, but steeled himself against that temptation as well. There was no telling what he might do pressed against her in the darkened backseat.
As it was, he had to go upstairs and make sure there really was mistletoe.
“I’ll see you Monday?” he asked instead.
“Of course.”
“And no more avoiding each other?”
You couldn’t blame him for asking. The last time, just mentioning her marriage had her dodging him for days. Who was to say what this last conversation might cause. Especially considering her expression—part dazed and part shadowed.
Mirrored how he felt inside.
They exchanged good-nights, then the driver closed the door. As Armando watched the rear lights disappear into the darkness, he kicked himself for not stealing another kiss.
What excuse would he give, though? There was definitely no mistletoe hanging above them this time, and “I want to be close to you” sounded too much like a line, even if it was true.
The kiss upstairs had been born from admiration. When they were establishing the shelter, he’d heard story after story of women who found the strength to walk away despite being told by their abusive husbands that they would never survive on their own. To leave and start over took real courage. But then, he’d always known Rosa was strong. Hell, he’d been drawing on her strength for three years.
She was wrong, too. Years of verbal debasement were abuse; she might not have had bruises, but she’d been hurt nonetheless. Fredo’s rising financial career had just ground to a halt. No way would Armando reward the man after what he did. Telling Rosa she was an embarrassment? Killing her self-esteem? If only he could throw people in the dungeon.
“Pardon me, Your Highness. Is something wrong? It’s just that you’ve been standing in the middle of the driveway for a while now,” his security guard added when Armando turned to look at him, “and I was—”
“Lost in thought,” Armando replied. First Daniela, now the guard. What was it about his kissing Rosa that required people to ask if he was all right?
On the other hand, both times had left him off balance. It felt like something was shifting inside him—something deeper than sexual attraction. There was a yearning inside him that hadn’t been there before, and, incredible as it sounded, Rosa was the trigger. If he didn’t know better, he would think he was developing feelings for her.
Impossible. He’d already had the love of his life. His heart was buried with her. He hadn’t felt anything for three years. Tonight was simply a product of traumatic confessions and Christmas lights. Nothing more. Turning on his heel, he headed back inside.
There had better be mistletoe hanging in that archway.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE NEXT MORNING, instead of Christmas shopping like she planned, Rosa left her local coffee shop and headed for the palace. She needed a bit of grounding. After Armando had walked her to the car, she’d spent the entire ride home, not to mention most of the early hours, trying not to relive their kiss. No matter how hard she focused on other things, the memory of Armando’s lips pressed to hers kept forcing its way to the front. For crying out loud, she even tasted him in her dreams.
Wasn’t it just her luck? Three years of longing for someone to awaken the woman inside her, and it was Armando, the one man in Corinthia miles beyond her reach. If she didn’t have interest in dating before, how would she ever now, having experienced the gold standard of kisses?
Which was why she needed a second shot of reality, to hammer home the fact that last night was nothing but a fantasy.
Despite the early hour, the lights in the grand archway were already lit in preparation for the day’s tours. Or maybe Armando never turned them off. Either way, the arrival of day had washed away last night’s magic. Whatever spirits had been dancing along the walls were back in hiding as well, giving Armando and the rest of the royal family a rest from their presence.
The sight of plain gray walls put Rosa on firmer mental ground. Gripping the balustrade, she peered upward to find a sprig of green and berries hanging from the chandelier.
Did she really think there wouldn’t be?
“Rosa?”
So much for grounded. One word from the familiar voice and her stomach erupted in a swarm of butterflies. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Armando walking toward her. Seemed impossible, but he looked more handsome than he did last night. His faded jeans and black turtleneck sweater were a far cry from the tuxedo, but he wore them as with the same elegance. Casual was a look he did well. Pity his subjects didn’t get to see him like this—women would be storming the gate.
The closer he got, the faster the butterflies flapped. “What are you doing here?” he asked. “I thought you took the weekend off to finish your Christmas shopping.”
“I left my list in my office,” she lied. “Can’t very well shop without one. Well, I could, but I might forget someone. Or something. What about you?” she asked, quickly changing subjects before her babbling got out of control. “What has you wandering the halls this early in the morning?”
“Oh, you know,” he said with a shrug. “Paperwork, royal proclamations. Not to mention Arianna and her wedding planners have taken over the royal residence.”
“In other words, you are hiding out.”
“Precisely. If I stay, I’m liable to be asked my opinion on embossed napkins. My future brother-in-law can deal with that stress on his own.
“It’s not the same during the day, is it?” he said, helping himself to the coffee cup in her hand. “The tree loses something when the lights are on.”
Right. The tree. For a moment, she’d been distracted by the way his lips curled around the foam. If he kissed her now, she would taste the coffee on them. “Definitely. But then, most things aren’t.” She wondered if the rule applied to kisses, too. If Armando were to lean in right now, would she feel the same swirl of desire? Considering the way her insides buckled over watching him drink coffee, she was pretty sure the answer was yes.
Armando’s lips glistened with liquid. “I’ll tell you what’s not the same,” he said with a frown. “Coffee without sugar. I thought you were going to stop this diet nonsense.”
“There’s nothing wrong with watching your weight.”
“Drinking bad coffee is not weight watching, it’s torture. I forbid you from doing it anymore.”
“I’ve got a better idea. Drink your own coffee,” she said, snatching back her cup. The banter felt good. She’d been afraid last night might taint their friendship.
At least it felt good until she went to take a sip and realized her lips were touching the same spot as his. Instantly, the butterflies returned.
“By the way, I—I had a great time last night,” she said.
“So you said last night.”
She knew that, but talking seemed a far better alternative to her other impulse, which was running her tongue along the cup rim.
“I just wanted to make sure you know how much,” she said.
“I had a good time, too.” To her surprise, pink inched along his cheekbones. “I was afraid you might regret opening old wounds...”
“No, not at all. In a weird way, telling you was liberating. I never realized how much the secret was weighing on me.” Or rather, the shame of it. “Thank you, by the way, for not thinking me a complete failure.”
“You’re not a failure, period. Your taste in men could be a little better...I mean, I could have told you Fredo was a poor choice. For starters, the man eats far too much garlic.”
“Yes, he does,” Rosa laughed. “And too much dairy. What was I thinking?” Her smile faded. “Sometimes I could kick myself for being so stupid,” she said.
“Not stupid. Naive, maybe, but never stupid.” When he said it, she believed him. Maybe last night’s magic hadn’t completely dissipated after all.
The sounds of footsteps floated up from below. Beneath them, security guards were readying the archway for the public. Armando leaned his forearms on the stone railing. Rosa joined him, cradling her coffee and watching the activity on the first floor.
“Clearly there is only one solution,” he said after a moment.