Felix and the Prince (Forever Wilde 2)

I held out my hand to gesture for him to take the seat while I stood up to slide the panel to the salon closed again to help trap the heat in the small room. Once he settled in the chair, I noticed him let out a breath. “Thanks,” he murmured, holding out his hands to the flames. His fingers were long and slim, and I couldn’t help but imagine what they’d feel like skating over my skin.

We sat in companionable silence for a few minutes before he spoke again.

“Do you live here?”

Was he kidding? Didn’t he know I lived in Monte Carlo? Where else would the prince of Monaco live?

“I… ah, no. Not really. I spent my summers here as a child though. It’s my favorite place on earth.”

Felix glanced around the room again with the same awestruck expression on his face. “I can understand why. It’s amazing. This entire place is like magic. You’re lucky to have spent so much time here. Do you know someone who works on the estate or something?”

He looked at me with such innocence, I realized there wasn’t a hint of recognition on his face. Was it at all possible he didn’t know who I was?

“Yes,” I said, clearing my throat. “My family has ties to the estate. Now Mari and Bert put up with me from time to time whenever I need to escape for a little while. They’re a bit like an aunt and uncle to me.”

It was the truth, although clearly not all of it.

“Wow. That’s incredible. You’re so lucky.”

I swallowed a laugh before it could come out. Lucky? In some ways, hell yes. I had money, security, parents, friends, an education. But there were many things I didn’t have that others did. Privacy, freedom to choose my own way in the world, and the luxury of spontaneity.

“Yes,” I murmured, bringing a mug of tea to my mouth. After taking a sip, I realized I was being rude.

“I have a kettle in here. Would you like some tea? I’m afraid I don’t have any milk or sugar though.”

His grin was smirky, and I raised an eyebrow in question. “Why are you looking at me that way?”

“Tea? That’s very British of you even though you sound American.”

“I’m neither, but I’ll admit to having an American parent,” I said with a wink. “And I studied at Georgetown University in Washington, DC, after going to American boarding schools.”

“Ah, that explains the accent, then. Where are you from, if not England or the States?”

I studied him for a moment, trying to discern if he was putting me on. “I live near the border of France and Italy on the Mediterranean,” I hedged.

“Isn’t that where Monte Carlo is? How very James Bond,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “Have you ever spotted fancy yachts or met any movie stars?”

If he was putting on an act of adorable naiveté, he was damned good at it. But something in him tensed at the mention of movie stars, as if he hadn’t meant to say it.

“Yes, that’s where it is, and yes, I’ve seen both celebrities and fancy yachts. Enough to sink the proverbial ship. How about that tea?” My hope was to distract him from the subject of home.

“Sure. I’ll try it. Mari offered me some yesterday, but I declined. Maybe I need to bite the bullet. When in Rome and all that.”

I stared at him. “You’ve never had tea?” Now for sure he was putting me on.

His laugh was quick and easy. “Yes, I’ve had tea. Just not hot tea. Not much use for it in Texas.”

I moved to the small corner of the room where I had a kettle plugged in and a box of my favorite teas. I selected a holiday mix I thought he might like.

“Where in Texas are you from?”

“Tiny town a couple of hours outside of Dallas called Hobie. Its only claim to fame is being located on a large boating lake. We get heaps of tourists in the summer.”

“Ah, so you’re familiar with yachts too, then,” I teased.

He laughed, and I was struck by how relaxed he seemed around me. It was unusual for me to meet someone new who didn’t treat me with kid gloves.

“Yes, but we call them jon boats,” he said. I could tell he was messing with me, but his face began to pink immediately as if he couldn’t believe he’d had the guts to tease me. Was he flirting with me?

I adored flirting.

“Hm, that’s strange. I had a friend at Georgetown who was from Alabama. I could have sworn he said jon boats were crappy little things used for fishing.”

Felix chuckled and turned his face away to hide his deepening blush. Oh god, the man was cute enough to eat.

I handed him the ceramic mug of tea I’d steeped for him and made sure he had to brush my hand with his when he took it. His face was still flushed, and his eyes widened up at me when our skin touched.