He straightened his back, watching her go. Abir, one of his bodyguards, waited a cautious moment, then followed. Kyril swallowed down a strange ache in his throat and tried to calm the thudding pulse in his ears. He shoved down his embarrassment and let the weight of the salespeople’s eyes fall to the floor.
Then he turned to the saleswoman, who stood frozen behind the case, the ring balanced in the palm of her hand.
“Put it in a box. I’ll take it.”
Her mouth formed a round O. “Are you certain, sir? It would be all right if—”
“It was my mistake.” He didn’t need her to tell him what would be all right and what wouldn’t. He flashed a confident smile at her, drawing his wallet from his pocket. “She’ll have her say. But in the meantime, I’m buying that ring.”
“Right away, sir.” The saleswoman hurried to put the ring into a small velvet box, then tipped it gently into a cloth bag for him to carry. She rang up the purchase and handed him the bag and his card. “If I may—” She bit her lip. “Good luck, sir.”
“Thank you, but I won’t need it.” Determination swelled in his chest. “I’ll show her that I’m the right man. It’ll only take some time.”
But Kyril felt a flicker of doubt that gave him pause. Hannah had refused the proposal. What else would she refuse, once they were back at the palace?
He swallowed his doubt and left the store with his head held high.
6
The alarm screamed, shrill and pulsing, and Kyril jolted awake in a twist of blankets. Hannah. Where was Hannah? The noise cut into his thoughts and hammered her absence into his mind. He threw the blankets off and bolted for the door. The cool air traced its fingers around his nakedness, but he didn’t care. One step outside his door and he heard her—a yelp from the second bedroom of the suite. The main door flew open, two of his bodyguards wrestling for position, but he darted across the living room toward Hannah’s door and burst inside.
She stood next to her bedside table, frantically pushing at buttons on the clock. He ran to her side and gathered her into his arms, eyes scanning every corner of the room. What was happening?
“Kyril, don’t—” Hannah twisted in his grasp, fumbling at the clock. “I’m—it’s fine. I’m late.”
He blinked, his eyes still bleary, and caught a glimpse of the clock in her hands. Four in the morning. The alarm still shrieked, the most hideous sound, and worse, it was linked with the other clocks in the suite. No doubt it was meant to prevent people sleeping in separate rooms from missing flights, or some other “convenience,” but Hannah had turned the volume up all the way and was still struggling to shut it off.
“Late?” He released her, though every cell in his body resisted letting her go, and took the clock from her hands. The shutoff switch was a little one in the corner of the unit, and he flicked it off. “Late for what?”
“My boat.”
“What boat?” He set the clock on the bedside table as Hannah’s hands rose to her hair. “What are you talking about? Have you booked a tour?”
“My boat to Greece.” She turned to face him and sucked in a breath, her face going scarlet. He could tell she was fighting to keep her eyes on his face. He couldn’t help but relish it.
He raised both hands in the air. Hannah was already dressed and showered, the lavender scent of her shampoo dancing over every breath. “Why are you going to Greece?” He laughed in the midst of his confusion. “You don’t have to flee the country because you didn’t agree with my proposal.”
She cracked a smile, one corner of her mouth flitting upward. “I’m not fleeing the country. I planned this a long time ago.”
“You never told me. And I don’t see—” He ran one hand through his hair, standing tall. “You only planned one day in Venice? And then an interminable boat ride?”
“It’s not interminable. It’s thirty hours.”
“That’s almost longer than you’ve spent here. Why?”
Hannah took a deep breath, glancing again at the clock. “I didn’t—I don’t—have unlimited time for this trip. One of the sites I used to plan for my travels said that Venice could be done in a day.” She shrugged one shoulder. “I did it.”
“But a thirty-hour transit to Greece by ship?” He shook his head. “Have you only allotted one day for all of Greece, too?”
Hannah smirked at his little joke. “I don’t fly, remember? I told you that before. And I thought a cruise across the Adriatic would be better than a cramped train car all the way around.”
“Sir?” Abir leaned his head in the doorway, two other bodyguards at his shoulder. They didn’t look at all rumpled. A slower man than Kyril wouldn’t have beaten them, even from inside the suite. “Everything all right?”
He waved them off. Everything was not all right. For one thing, Hannah was trying to sneak out of the suite for an ill-advised boat trip to Greece. For another, he felt his nakedness more with every passing moment. “Everything’s fine.”
They disappeared from the doorway as quickly as they had appeared.
He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Come with me.”