Prince of my Panties (Royal Package 2)

“We’ll see about that,” I murmur, stabbing another stalk of her leftover broccoli, enjoying it a little more because it was once on her plate.

I’ve got it bad for this woman, and I’m perfectly willing to sleep alone for a few nights if that’s what it takes. I don’t want one night with Elizabeth Rochat, I want more of her future than that.

But first I have to convince her that she has one.

12

Elizabeth

Shortly after sunrise, I awake to a hot cup of coffee wafting back and forth under my nose. “Wake up, Elizabeth,” says Jeffrey. “The first day of the rest of your life is calling. I want to be on the road by seven.”

“Pointless waste of time,” I grumble, pushing up to sit against the pillows as I fumble for the mug. “But this smells heavenly. Let’s stay here, drink pot after pot of coffee, and work by the fireplace, instead. I’ll teach you how to sew seed pearls. Every man should know how to sew seed pearls. Just in case.”

“In case of?”

“In case you have a seed pearl emergency.”

“You can teach me how to sew at the hotel tonight,” he says. “I booked a room near the Rue village center.”

My eyes widen over the rim of the cup, and I swallow too fast, hot liquid scalding my throat. “Are you insane?” I finally sputter. “I agreed to this stupid quest so my mother won’t find out where I am, and you want to deliver me to her doorstep? My parents live just outside of Rue.”

“So, we’ll stay in town. We won’t go anywhere near the castle. You said yourself that your parents never leave the house.”

“It doesn’t matter. If we set foot in the town center, they’ll know about it. Probably within ten to fifteen minutes.”

“No, they won’t,” he says, throwing open the curtains to let in the watery light of the early morning sun.

“Yes, they will. People gossip in Rue. Almost as much as they drink. After ski season is over, there isn’t anything else to do there. Someone will see me out with a strange man and race to see who can call my parents first.”

“And then what?” He turns back to me, his hands propped on his hips, drawing my attention to the dark fabric encasing his strong legs. He’s already dressed and looking damned good in jeans and a faded, long-sleeved blue T-shirt. Though, not as good as last night in pajama pants and no shirt.

No shirt…

Shirts really are overrated.

“Lizzy?” he says.

“Hmm?” I murmur, having already forgotten the question.

Why must this infuriating human be so lovely to look at? I swear he makes me want to start designing menswear, just to have an excuse to get at him with my measuring tape and measure every inch of him, again and again.

“I asked what happens then? When your parents find out you’re in the village?”

Dragging my focus away from Jeffrey’s hips, I meet his steady gaze. “I’ll have to go home and face the music.”

“Why? You’re a grown woman with free will and your own source of income. You aren’t obligated to do everything your parents tell you to do.”

I arch a brow. “When’s the last time you disobeyed a direct order from your mother?”

“My mother doesn’t give orders. She makes polite requests. As for when—last night. She wanted me to come home for the ceremony. Instead, I stayed here with you. If your parents find out we’re in the village and make contact, you’ll simply assure them you’ll be home as soon as we’ve concluded our business.”

I bite my lip and curl my toes beneath the covers. “Fine, I’ll wear a disguise. I have a wig in my sewing bag.”

He sighs.

I bristle. “You don’t know them, Jeffrey. They aren’t like your parents. They’re old fashioned, and they expect children to obey. Even grown children who foot most of their bills. And they’re exhausting when they’re upset. I promise you, it’s easier not to rock the boat.”

“And still, you sent Sabrina in your place.”

“But that was worth it,” I say, taking another sip of coffee while the words I’ve left unspoken hang in the air.

That was worth it because it was for Sabrina, who’s hopefully going to live a long, happy life. Standing up for myself has diminished returns, especially now that there’s less than a year left until my birthday.

I refuse to buy into Jeffrey’s misplaced hope. Sabrina and Andrew are going to end up together, it’s only a matter of time.

That prophecy will come true and then…

“Not going to think about that, either,” I mumble into my mug, ignoring Jeffrey’s, “What was that?” as I swing my feet over the edge of the bed.

“I’ll be dressed and ready in fifteen minutes.” I down the last of the coffee in one gulp and hold my cup out to him. “Thank you.”