Royal Treatment (Royals of Danovar 2)

She typed the email quickly, before she could think about it too hard, and sent it. His enthusiastic agreement came in seconds later.

She closed the laptop, put her head down on top of it, and groaned. What had she done?

And why was she so turned on by it?

7

Anna dipped the nail polish brush in the bottle and finished painting the last, tiny stroke of red on Eric’s big toe. She leaned back and nodded in satisfaction. “There,” she said. “The crest of Danovar, as requested. It’s fast-drying, so you should be able to move in just a minute.”

They were sitting in one of the labs late at night, waiting on a result to come in from an analyzer that was taking its sweet time. Somehow they’d gotten onto the topic of mani-pedis and Eric had agreed to let her practice on him.

He examined her work and whistled, impressed. The roaring griffin matched the tattoo on his chest, which she’d apparently committed to memory—completely by accident, and not because she’d been fantasizing about his pecs. Not much, at least. “Holy hell, woman, you have talented hands,” he said.

She grinned and blushed. “Thanks. I love doing the really complicated, small details. It helps keep my fine motor skills sharp for the lab. Last week I did a periodic table of the elements theme for mine, but it’s worn off. I’ll need to do something new soon.”

Eric sat up straighter. “Let me try. I mean, I can’t promise periodic table of the elements-level results, but I think I could probably manage to get most of the paint on the nail.”

She hesitated. “Okay,” she said at last, because what was her time with Eric about if not trying new things?

He sorted through the colors she’d brought out from her desk while she slipped off her pumps. She glanced at the analyzer’s screen, anxious for it to hurry up and spit out the results already. She had a hunch they would be good, and her gut was hardly ever wrong, but they were about to start phase two and as a scientist she couldn’t move forward with that until these results gave her solid proof that phase one had been a success.

Eric held up a seductive cherry red for her approval. “I think it suits you,” he said.

“If you say so,” she said doubtfully. Red was for sexy women, brazen women, women who liked to talk dirty and knew how to please their men. Her stepsister Ella could probably pull off red. Daphne definitely could. Anna, though—she’d always thought she was more of a sensible navy-blue girl, or maybe a good old clear coat. With the exception of her themed designs, of course, but Eric had already said he wasn’t going to try one of those.

Eric lifted her foot onto his lap and started applying the polish. She shivered at his touch—how was it that him handling her arch like that, so gently with just his fingertips as he adjusted her position, could feel so intimate? She slid a little deeper into her seat and relaxed, her eyes drifting half-closed as he worked. She even started thinking that maybe, possibly, they could begin working on her first physical flirting lesson tonight. She’d never been kissed before, and that was definitely something she’d need to learn if she wanted to be able to date properly. Plus, the way he was touching her hands and feet was one hell of a turn-on, and if she didn’t work out some of this sexual build-up soon she was going to boil over. By the time he finished her fingernails, she’d decided to ask him to kiss her, and she wasn’t anxious about the test results at all anymore.

Until the analyzer dinged.

They both sat up straight. Eric read the results first and whooped, thrusting the nail polish in the air. “That’s what I’m talking about!” he shouted, beaming at her. “Look at that. I told you your study was the best thing out there. Who else gets results that positive this early in the game?”

“Don’t get too excited, we still have to wait a few more minutes to get the printout with all the details.” Still, she couldn’t help but grin at his enthusiasm—then tilted her head. “Wait a second, how did you even know what those results meant? To most people, that data would look like gibberish.”

“Oh, I actually have a degree in chemistry. I didn’t make it public because…” he shifted, looking faintly uncomfortable. “I guess I didn’t want it splashed across the headlines if I failed.”

“Judging from how quick you parsed those results, you must’ve gotten an A in all your courses.”

He smiled again. “A-plus, thank you very much.”

He screwed the cap back on the polish and started blowing on her toenails to dry his work. She shivered at the delicious feel of his breath on her toes and across her ankles. More interested than ever in this man who apparently had hidden depths—who’d have thought the party-boy prince was secretly interested in chemistry?—she swallowed hard and plunged ahead. “Eric. I think you should teach me how to kiss now.”

Eric froze, lifting his eyes to Anna’s. She was flushed, her gaze intent, waiting for him to answer. “You mean…by example?” he asked carefully. Please, God, if you’ve ever cared about me at all let her say yes.

He was dying to kiss her. Had been dying to kiss her ever since the first time he saw her, way back at the Summer House Party, when he’d invited her to have a margarita with him and she’d snubbed him in favor of a date with a stack of books from the royal library that had to weigh more than he did. Even then, when he’d thought she was too serious and boring—how had he ever thought she was boring?—those full lips had beckoned to him.

“Yes,” Anna breathed.

He puckered his lips and blew on her toes again, taking his time, relishing the moment. “First lesson, then,” he said. “It’s all about build-up. Half t

he fun is in the anticipation of the thing.” He lifted her fingers and blew on her still-wet nails, delighting in her shiver. Then he placed her hands on the arms of her chair and ducked down to pull some yarn from the bag at her feet. He looped a strand lightly around one wrist and armrest and tied it in a nice little bow, then cut the thread and gave her other hand the same treatment.

“What are you doing?” asked Anna, her voice low and throaty.

“No way am I letting you mess up my handiwork,” he said, tying the last knot with a flourish. “This is the best mani-pedi I’ve ever given.”

“I thought it was the only mani-pedi you’ve ever given.”

“Exactly.” He moved his roller-chair closer until they were side by side, then, slowly, he moved his hand over her arm, skating a light touch down to tap on the knot. “Now you won’t have to worry about getting messy during the lesson.”