‘Amalia’s been spending time with you.’ He gritted his teeth, annoyingly aware he sounded like a puffed-up, overprotective older brother. Which, admittedly, was what he was. He had to be.
‘I’m sitting right here, Felipe.’ Amalia rolled her eyes as she echoed Elsie Wynter’s light sass.
‘And it’s time you weren’t,’ he replied coolly. ‘You’re late for your physio. It’s rude to keep your therapist waiting.’
Amalia sighed. ‘So you’ve come to drag me back to prison?’
‘Prison?’ Elsie interrupted Amalia’s escalating tone with a laugh. ‘No, don’t destroy my dreams about what living in a palace is really like.’
Amalia’s eyes widened and she almost smiled.
Felipe paused, absorbing his stepsister’s reaction with slight shock. He hadn’t seen Amalia smile much since she’d arrived. And that she saw the palace as a prison? Not good.
But now Elsie glanced up at him with that cool defiance again. ‘I’m sorry, we lost track of time.’
‘Amalia didn’t. She ignored the messages on her phone.’ He glanced pointedly at the expensive phone placed face down on the table.
‘She put it on silent at my request.’
Felipe tensed. Why didn’t she want Amalia using her phone?
‘We didn’t want to break concentration.’ Elsie seemed to read his mind.
‘So her tardiness truly is your fault?’
‘Sure.’ A shrug of her slim shoulders exposed a soupçon more skin.
He had the strongest urge to reach out and touch it and see if it was as warm and as soft as it looked.
‘No—’
‘It’s all right, Amalia.’ Felipe interrupted his stepsister. ‘I understand.’
Amalia passed the instrument back to Elsie and stood up from the wooden chair with another dramatic sigh. ‘He’s going to warn you away now,’ she said to Elsie. ‘Please ignore him. We’re not really even related.’
Amalia indignantly stomped past, her limp prominent. She’d recently taken to wearing her long hair down, but it didn’t hide the scarlet filling her face.
Felipe gritted his teeth, unaccustomed to failure. But he was inexperienced in a relationship like this. He’d not had a sibling before. Nor had Amalia. And he was more guardian now than brother. The girl had no companions anywhere near her own age. And this woman? She was nearer his age than Amalia’s.
He wanted to protect his stepsister from...well, everything. Which, he realised, made him very similar to his own security team. Fundamentally he simply wanted what was best for her. But he had no idea what that even was, let alone how to achieve it.
‘She’s definitely not stupid.’ Elsie’s smile was wry. ‘Knows how to strike, doesn’t she?’
Felipe tried to ignore the woman’s creamy skin and instead got caught up in her ice-blue eyes. Her pupils widened—not from fear. She clearly wasn’t intimidated by him so the unconscious response was based in something else.
‘She’s more vulnerable than she thinks,’ he said with an honesty more blunt than usual.
Elsie nodded regretfully. ‘If you don’t think I know that already, then you must think I’m stupid.’
‘Jury’s out,’ he muttered, prodding to see what other reaction he’d receive.
Sparks flashed. ‘Jury?’ she echoed. ‘Is impartial justice actually a possibility here? I thought you were the instant judge type.’
‘No.’ Unable to resist, he took the seat Amalia had vacated. ‘That appears to be your forte.’
Now he was closer, something gnawing within him was soothed. He caught a hint of lemon scent and his mouth watered. He clamped his jaw shut. While her eyes were glacier blue, they weren’t cold. The narrowed atmosphere between them crackled.
‘Who are you, Elsie Wynter?’ he eventually asked. ‘Why are you in Silvabon?’