Royal Treatment (Royals of Danovar 2)

But he already had his own pen out and was marking down ideas in his notepad. “It’ll save us time—this way you might be able to move up your deadline so you can announce your results right before the bill goes to Parliament. That would give us both a huge publicity boost.”

“I said no! This was the whole reason I didn’t want to take your money in the first place—I have to keep the research clean! I will not have my peers think I cut corners.”

The waiter arrived and she clammed up. Eric leaned back in his seat and thanked the man while Anna’s murderous gaze drilled through him, and he had to work hard to keep his fascination off his face. If he’d thought she’d looked sexy when flustered, damn, angry was a whole other level. The girl could work a glower. She looked like she might break out a whip or something, which he would be one hundred percent on board with.

As soon as the waiter put her food down, she got up, spine rigid, shoulders back. “I’m going to freshen up, and we will talk when I get back,” she said, throwing the words at him like daggers.

The waiter stepped aside to let her through, giving her a lingering once-over as he did. Apparently he agreed with Eric about how sexy Angry Anna was. “I hope your date is going well?” the man said, obviously trying to feel out whether they were a couple.

Anna’s glower faded into uncertainty. “Oh, no, no, we’re not—it’s a work thing.”

The man smiled. “Then if I might be so bold, maybe I could bring you a martini when your meeting is done, on the house? My shift ends in twenty minutes.”

Anna blushed bright red, her confident, angry veneer crumbling to dust. “I don’t drink martinis,” she blurted.

“Maybe a pina colada then?”

“I, uh, I don’t drink those either.” Rattled, she sat back down, apparently forgetting she’d claimed a need to freshen up.

Confused but persevering, the waiter forged on. “Maybe you could tell me what drink you would like, and that’s what I could bring you?”

“I already have a soda. I mean—no, thank you. But…thank you.”

Eric turned to look back at the waiter. The conversation was the verbal equivalent of a slow-motion car crash, both fascinating and horrifying. He almost wished he had popcorn.

The waiter’s smile was starting to look forced. Taking pity on the man, Eric waved a little to get his attention. “You know what, I think I’ll have a martini,” he said. “As

many olives as you can stick in the thing. And get one for yourself on me too, would you? You look like a man who could use a martini. How long has your shift been?”

Recovering a bit, the waiter sighed. “Ten hours.”

“Ten hours! That’s madness, my friend. You know what, get yourself two on me when you wrap things up. And between you and me, maybe ask for a raise.”

The waiter laughed. “I’ll do that,” he said, and left their bill on the table with a smile.

When he was gone, Anna dropped her head into her hands. “That was awful,” she moaned, her voice muffled.

“Horrific,” Eric agreed, digging into his chips.

Anna lifted her head. “How did you do that? Just smooth things over that way.” She looked envious. “You’re so charming, so easy to get along with. It’s not fair, how that comes to some people so easily.”

He paused, a bite of fish halfway to his mouth. “I guess there’s an art to it,” he said after a moment. He’d never really thought about it before.

She shoved her hair back. “I don’t understand it,” she said plaintively. “I know Daphne and, well, probably everyone else thinks I just want to stay closeted with my research all day, but I really do want more of a social life. I just have zero idea of how to get one. I don’t know how to flirt. I barely know how to make small talk. Even if I had been into that guy, I probably would’ve fallen all over myself and scared him off. I mean, if he was even really all that into me at all. He probably hits on every girl who comes in here.” She looked away. “Sorry. I’m ranting. I haven’t gotten much sleep lately, it makes me cranky. Let’s just get back to the binder.”

But Eric was frowning at her. Did she really think so little of herself? “That guy was definitely into you,” he argued. “Who wouldn’t be? Look at you, you’re gorgeous. I’m shocked you don’t have more practice with guys falling all over themselves trying to bring you martinis.”

She looked at him like he was crazy. “I’m not gorgeous. And even if I was, I don’t have any practice. With anything. At all.”

He sat back, shocked as her revelation sank in. Surely she couldn’t mean she was a virgin? But from the look on her face, she was dead serious about everything she’d said. She had no clue how to flirt. She wanted a social life but didn’t know how to get one. And she had zero experience with men.

An idea, which was either absolutely horrible or the best idea ever, slowly blossomed in his mind. “I’ll teach you,” he said.

“What?”

“I’ll teach you. How to flirt, how to date, how to seduce a man. Not that it takes an awful lot. Come on,” he said when he saw the skeptical look on her face, “if anyone has the experience to teach you this stuff it’s me. I’ve literally charmed the pants off foreign dignitaries in my sleep. The least I can do is teach you how to make small talk.”

She hesitated, obviously intrigued but uncertain.