The Princess and the Player (Royally Pitched 1)

“I’m so sorry,” she breathed out.

“Eleanor, uh … Your Highness—”

“Please don’t call me that,” she begged.

“We haven’t really gotten around to what we should call each other,” he said lightly, an attempt to defuse the awkwardness.

Eleanor shook her head, like the notion of exchanging names was problematic.

“So, Princess Eleanor?”

Again, with a denial, the shake chagrined.

“Your Highness is out, and apparently, princess isn’t on the table either. You’re going to have to help me out here.”

He could tell she wanted to roll her eyes. But she didn’t.

“Ele,” she finally said.

He was touched. “Is your PPO going to want to shoot me if I call you Ele?”

The question startled a giggle out of her, but just as quickly as it’d erupted, her hand was on her mouth, stuffing it back in. Without any intention to do so, Tristan’s fingers looped around her wrist and gently pulled her hand away.

She reddened instantly, and Tristan was completely charmed. Their fingers automatically fit together. He strolled unhurriedly to the exit.

“Your Highness,” the bodyguard intoned.

Tristan jumped like a cat in a cartoon. Ele and Robert pretended not to notice.

“Thirty minutes.”

“Have you been here the whole time?” Tristan asked, incredulous.

He’d thought the room was empty—and he’d looked. Either the guy was a master of stealth—probably—or Tristan had been completely oblivious—most likely.

“Yes, sir,” Robert answered even though Tristan had meant it to be rhetorical.

“Right.” He looked back at Ele. “Keep going?”

“Yes,” she answered without delay.

He nodded. They turned toward the on-site hotel, Tristan playing the dutiful tour guide. He tried hard to stay the course, but he was rattled.

When have I been so focused on a woman, I didn’t notice things around me? And what am I doing, kissing the Ice Princess?

Although how the public could think of her as cold didn’t make any sense to him. Her warmth and gentleness wrapped around you like a cozy blanket.

Warmth and gentleness—when the bloody hell have I ever valued that? Unless I was embedded in that warmth.

Suddenly, he wanted the tour to end. He’d planned to walk her through the hotel before he showed her some of the outdoor training areas and the recreation room.

But then she started talking, “Is this state-of-the-art, or is your team facility similar?”

“Yes,” he said.

“It wasn’t a yes or no question,” she chided.

He couldn’t help but tease her. “I know, but the answer is yes. It is state-of-the-art, and my team facility is similar.”