Read Royal Date Online

Authors: Sariah Wilson

Royal Date (11 page)

“That’s totally different.”

The cold air turned her angry breaths into puffs of smoke. She reminded me of a little dragon. “It’s exactly the same.”

She was right. I had never thought of it that way. All these years I had dragged my feet, so afraid of giving in to charity, of being seen as less than. All these years that I had fought to maintain my pride. I thought I was just being self-reliant. What I was being was a pain in the butt. And what excuse did I have? As she’d just pointed out, I wanted to spend my time helping others. How much of a hypocrite did it make me that I couldn’t accept any help in return?

“Okay,” I mumbled.

“What was that?”

“I said okay,” I repeated in a louder tone. “You’re right, I was wrong.”

Lemon blinked a few times. “Do you think we can get that etched on a plaque while we’re here?”

I laughed and linked my arm through hers. “Let’s go do some damage to your daddy’s bank account.”

After Lemon bought out half of Paris for herself and her mother, we ate at an adorable bistro. Once we’d filled our stomachs, we started shopping specifically for presents for the royals. An Elsa doll for Serafina, and a home mani-pedi set for Chiara. Lemon said she’d noticed the queen seemed to like wearing violet, so we picked her up a cashmere scarf in that color. I found a small framed Marilyn Monroe picture with Lemon’s favorite quote about women who tried to be equal with men. I bought it with the few dollars I had left in my checking account and slid it into my purse.

My thoughts kept drifting to Nico as we shopped, which I found disconcerting. I darted into a rare bookstore, and Lemon followed me in. I asked if they had any books by Tolkien or Fitzgerald. The man showed me several that were inside cases, some first editions, others autographed. All were priced in the tens of thousands. I tried not to choke. “Do you have something not quite as expensive?”

The shopkeeper brought me out an old-looking copy of
The Great Gatsby
. I ran my fingers over the green leather binding. It was decorated with golden art deco symbols around the edges. “This one is five hundred,” he said.

That number made my stomach drop, and Lemon looked at me questioningly. “He’s Nico’s favorite author.”

Lemon slapped her credit card down on the counter. “Then we’ll take it.”

My instinct was to protest, but I refrained.

Agreeing that we would buy the rest of the presents when we were back in Monterra, we decided to do a little sightseeing. We stopped by the Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triomphe, taking tons of pictures. Worn out, we found another cab to take us back to the hotel.

We drove in silence, and I wondered what Nico was doing right then. I felt an unfamiliar pang, a hollowness in my chest.

Her phone buzzed, and Lemon pulled it out of her purse. “Serafina and Chiara say hello. Chiara says to make sure we take pictures once we’re all dressed up and send them to her.”

I smiled. “Tell them I say hi and I’ll see them soon.”

She texted for a minute and then put the phone back in her purse. “How are you doing?”

I looked at my wrapped wrist. “I’m fine.” The swelling was gone, and I didn’t notice the ache at all anymore. My ankle felt totally healed. Even so, Giacomo had recommended ballet flats rather than heels for the evening, and I was quick to agree. I hated heels. They always hurt my feet.

“I was actually speaking on an emotional level. You just seemed a little sad.”

“I was just thinking about Nico. I think—” I paused, recognizing the gravity of what I was about to say. “I think I missed him today.” Which seemed stupid considering the fact that I had only met him a few days ago. And had only really talked to him for less than twenty-four hours.

She looked way too happy.

“I mean, how am I supposed to write about him if I don’t get to spend any time with him?”

“Somebody’s got a crush, somebody’s got a crush,” she started in a singsong voice.

I pushed against her shoulder. “If you start singing about us sitting in a tree, I will punch you.”

“Ow. Love seems to bring out your violent side.”

“Stop it. We don’t love each other. We’re not even in like. Right now, he’s just a friend.” A friend who made me feel shivery, fluttery, giggly, and like a boy-crazed fourteen-year-old girl every time I saw him, but still just a friend.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help but tease you. This is too much fun. I finally found you a guy. We only had to travel halfway around the world, and he only had to be a prince to be good enough for you.”

I wanted to give her a stinging retort, but we pulled up to the front of the hotel. Where a horde of paparazzi awaited us. “Should we tell the driver to go round back?”

“Too late now,” Lemon said as the driver got out of the cab. He went to the back of his car to get our packages and bags from the trunk. Lemon and I both exited out the same door. I ignored the reporters and the lights until I realized they were talking to us in English.

Not only that, but they were calling us by name.

There were too many of them yelling too loudly to understand what they were saying, so we grabbed our things and let the doorman usher us inside.

My heart pounded frantically, and cold fear clawed its way up to settle in my chest. “How do they know who we are?”

“I have no idea.” She looked as frazzled as I felt. It was completely disconcerting having total strangers screaming out your name.

We got in the elevator and up to our room. We agreed to tell someone what had just happened, but as soon as we walked inside the room, total chaos reigned.

There had to be like fifty people in the suite. Tuxedos had been brought in for the princes. Secretaries and stylists ran all over the place. People came over and collected all of our bags, and I only had a moment to wonder where they were taking all our stuff.

Then I didn’t care. Because Nico was there. My heart leapt in response.

As if he sensed me, he stopped in the middle of his conversation and turned to look at me across the room. I waggled my fingers at him, and he winked at me. My whole being suddenly felt lighter. I started walking toward him, but Giacomo hustled me into my bedroom. I saw two director’s chairs had been set up, along with tables full of makeup products and hair styling instruments.

I was told to sit, and people were hovering over me like vultures, staring at me as they discussed my face and hair situation amongst themselves in French. I reached out for Giacomo. “Please tell them not to slather it on.”

Lemon sat next to me in the other chair. “I’m sure they can see that you don’t need much with that sickening pore-free skin of yours. But let them put on whatever they want to put on.”

“Why?” My hair started going in five different directions, being rolled and brushed.

“Because you’ll need the war paint. You’re about to go into battle.”

“With who?”

“With every woman at that ball who will be ready to claw your eyes out for showing up with the prince. You don’t want even a single hair out of place. You’ll need the confidence.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “But you’ll be there with him too.”

“Darlin’, we both know he’s not going to give me even a lick of attention.”

We were done up and twisted around and pulled and tugged until we were finally deemed ready. I thought it was sort of sad that it took an entire team of people to get us to an acceptable level.

As they gathered up their things, Lemon and I went into our bathroom to finish getting dressed. “Don’t look in the mirror until we’re all done,” she said. We turned our backs to the mirrors behind us. She helped me zip up, and then I helped her.

“Ready?”

We turned and I was shocked. We looked flawless. I looked maybe, even, a little pretty. They’d turned Lemon’s short blonde bob into a bunch of loose curls, and I had a sleek but delicate chignon. “They gave me fake eyelashes!” I laughed, leaning my face in to get a better look at what they’d done.

“Nico is going to die when he sees you.” Lemon hugged me.

I hugged her back. “Poor Dante. His heart is going to give out.”

“You mean Salvatore.”

I didn’t actually mean Salvatore. He didn’t follow Lemon around like Dante did. I just smiled at her in response.

We went back out into our room, and it had been emptied out. We put on our shoes and the jewelry we’d chosen earlier. I had big cubic zirconia earrings and a matching bracelet. Lemon had a necklace with a massive red gem and dangly earrings.

“Ready?”

A flock of hummingbirds started beating their wings in my stomach. My hands felt clammy and my spine weak, but I nodded. Lemon went out first, and I followed closely behind. Dante immediately claimed her attention, flattering her and kissing both of her cheeks. She laughed. Rafe told me I was beautiful and kissed my cheeks. Both men wore black tuxedos with tails, a white vest, and a white bow tie. They had a red sash with a pale yellow border that they wore under their coats. Like beauty queens. It made me smile.

Nico stood near the fireplace, just staring at me. He was dressed like his brothers, but infinitely more handsome. I walked over to him shyly, my dress rustling and swishing with each step. I wondered what he thought. Something intense flashed in his sparkling light blue eyes. He didn’t say anything. Did he not like it? He swallowed once, twice, and cleared his throat. Then he finally said in a low voice, “I’m afraid you’ve rendered me speechless. You are breathtaking.”

I pulled in a shaky breath, my heart beating a million times a minute. No one had ever said anything like that to me. Ever.

Would it be weird if I swooned at his feet?

“Aren’t we the luckiest girls in the world to go to a ball with you handsome men?” Lemon cooed, slipping her arms through Dante’s and Rafe’s.

“On the contrary, it is our privilege to be accompanying the two of you,” Dante responded gallantly, although he only had eyes for Lemon.

“Picture time!” she called out. She took out her cell phone from her little matching red clutch. “Nico, Kat, stand together. No, not like that. Put your arm around her. Like a prom picture.”

Funnily enough, I was pretty sure that neither Nico nor I had gone to prom. But as his strong arm stole around my waist, I fought the urge to melt against him. I ignored the fire that flamed up everywhere his body touched mine.

I swear, I was going to develop some kind of breathing condition if I didn’t stop losing control of that function every time I got near him.

“Say cheese!” Lemon called out. We cheesed.

“One more!” she said. I saw her expression. She knew exactly what this was doing to me. I curled my hands up into fists, narrowing my eyes at her. So after I killed her and got that shaman to resurrect her, I was going to convert her to whatever faith believed in reincarnation so that I could kill her once again. She had the audacity to laugh.

Rafe took Lemon’s phone and directed Dante and Lemon to stand together.

I looked up at Nico and he looked down at me. We stayed put, locked in each other’s arms. His eyes focused in on my lips, and I had to resist the overpowering urge to go up ever so slightly on tippy-toe to reach him.

You don’t want to kiss him, remember?
How could you want something desperately, and then not want it just as much? I was too screwed up for my own good.

Finally, I couldn’t stand it and had to let go. But I didn’t go far.

Nico let out a large sigh and pushed some fallen strands of hair off his forehead, which drew my attention to his bright red scar. Without thinking, I reached up to touch it, and he let out a low hiss.

“Your poor forehead,” I said.

He lightly took my still-bandaged wrist, pressing a kiss to the bare flesh of my palm. I gasped as my skin sizzled. “Your poor wrist,” he said, before letting my arm go.

“Think the press will ask you about it?” I put my hands behind my back so that he wouldn’t see them shaking.

He didn’t seem to hear me, studying me intently. His gaze felt tangible, like he was still touching me even though we stood apart.

Which caused a nervous reaction inside me, and I babbled, “I guess I could just tell them that I hit you with my left hook and you were down for the count.”

“I think it would take more than a punch from you to knock me out.” Nico looked playful and insulted at the same time. “It would probably have to involve some kind of Taser gun or pepper spray.”

Suddenly I couldn’t breathe. The edges of the room went fuzzy, and I was back there. Back with him. With the acrid smell of pepper spray making my eyes water and my throat burn. My lungs constricted, and I couldn’t catch my breath.

I felt both of his hands on my shoulders, snapping me out of that memory. “What is it, Katerina? What did I say?”

“Nothing,” I reassured him. “I’m fine.” I was safe. Safe, safe, safe. His eyes were full of concern. I took a couple of big breaths and pasted on a fake smile. “Shouldn’t we be going?”

He looked like he wanted to say something, but instead put my hand on his arm. He gathered everyone together, and we went down in the lobby, waiting for the cars to pull up. The paparazzi’s cameras flashed through the big plate glass windows.

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