“So?” Jess’s voice cut through my thoughts and I tore my eyes from the screen.
“What?”
“I asked what your big plans were.” Jess frowned. “Quit staring at Prince Yummy and pay attention.”
“Prince Yummy?” Bert pulled off the apron and frowned at Jess. I tried to not laugh.
“That’s what the undergrads were calling him. It’s annoying, but it stuck in my head.” Jess hopped down and wrapped her arms around Bert’s neck. She wasn’t a short girl, but she looked petite next to her boyfriend. I started to leave to avoid their PDA, but she wasn’t ready to let me escape. She leaned back and frowned at me. “You didn’t answer!”
“I’m going to dinner with Prince Yummy’s dear old aunt.” I smiled at her shocked expression and made my way to my tiny bedroom.
I was flicking through the clothes in my closet when my bedroom door banged open. Jess was looking at me like I was crazy, so I just shrugged.
“You’re serious.”
“Yeah. I’ve got to be at the Parallel in less than three hours.”
“Oh my God. You’re going to have dinner with a duchess? Is Prince Yummy going to be there too?” Her eyes were huge and I frowned. It would be much better if someone like Jess went to this dinner. She was gorgeous and people tended to like her immediately. I, on the other hand, rarely dressed up and couldn’t remember the last time I painted my fingernails. What was the point if I was going to be scraping dirt out from under my nails in a few hours?
“I don’t know about Prince Yummy.” I shook my head. I needed to find out his name so I didn’t accidently refer to him that way.
“Why?” She sat down on my bed and watched as I pulled out the few dresses I owned. I held up a bright summer print and she shook her head.
“I don’t know. Some guy showed up at work and said the duchess wanted to have dinner with me. I guess Dr. Geller forgot to tell me she was coming.” I looked at the dresses in my hands and put the blue back. Black was probably the safest option. That way if I spilled anything on myself, it wouldn’t be overly obvious.
“Some guy said she wanted to have dinner with you. Why do you think this has anything to do with Dr. Geller?” Jess crossed her legs and I realized she wasn’t leaving. “Seems pretty fishy. Are you sure he is who he says he is?” Jess was pretty practical when things boiled down to it.
“I think so. And if not, then I’ll have only wasted one night.” I shrugged. “Why else would a duchess want to talk to me? And she was at the school earlier. Maybe she’s a donor or something.” I laid the dress out on the bed and thought about jewelry. “I have no idea how to talk to her. I mean, do I address her as Duchess? My lady? Your Highness?” This wasn’t something I’d grown up knowing. It wasn’t like I was from England.
“The Internet is our friend!” Jess grabbed my laptop off the bedside table and popped it open. She typed for a moment and then looked up at me. “They are from Lilaria, right? Says here they’re big into birds, so I guess it makes sense.”
“Okay. What about their royalty?” I turned to look back at my closet, realizing I didn’t have an appropriate jacket.
“Just the usual stuff. A prince is addressed as His Royal Highness.” Jess skimmed through the link she was reading. “Address the duchess as Duchess Whatever. But it says you should adopt their type of formality.”
“So, I shouldn’t call him Prince-dude or her Royal-lady?”
“I think you nailed that one on the head.” Jess closed the computer. “You’ll be fine. Just be the charming person I know you can be.”
“Note to self: Don’t eat with fingers or burp in their faces. Got it.” I smiled at Jess and she laughed.
“We’ll save you some chili.” Jess got up and looked at me. “Text me when you get there and let me know it’s legit.”
“Sure.” I smiled at her over my shoulder as I headed for my bathroom. Time to make myself presentable. Thank God, I had time to shower.
Chapter Two
Royals in Rags
—The Chicago Gazette
My truck sounded like it was on its last leg as I pulled up to the hotel. The traffic had been terrible, so I didn’t have time to park the thing myself and avoid the embarrassment of valet. Cursing under my breath, I tried to stuff some of the garbage from the bench under the seat before the attendant opened my door. Looking up I smiled at the young guy.
“Sorry, the Bentley is being detailed.”
“Looks to me like you traded up, ma’am. This is a classic.” He held his hand out and helped me out of the car. I smiled gratefully at him because I had let Jess talk me into wearing heels tonight. He handed me my ticket and I gave him my keys.
I tried to not cringe as my truck made a coughing noise before it pulled away. The hostess was watching me through the glass doors, so I took a deep breath and held my head high, all the time quietly praying I wouldn’t end up busting my ass in the damn shoes. The doorman opened the door for me, but even he had a look of disdain as he studied me.
Chili was already sounding much better. Hopefully the food would be decent. And not overly expensive. I’d just sent three hundred dollars to the hospital for my dad’s monthly payment. To say I was scraping the bottom of the barrel would be putting it nicely. I smiled at the hostess, hoping that being polite would smooth over the truck fiasco.
“Hi. I’m meeting Duchess Sverelle for dinner.”
“Does she know you’re coming?” The blond woman’s voice grated on my ears. It was high and nasally. Why would they want that for their first impression? There are lots of blond, modelesque women who would love a job like this. Her eyes narrowed and ran over me in disgust.
“Since she’s the one who invited me, I would assume so.” Operation Nice was over.
“Uh huh. And what’s your name?” The woman looked down at the list in front of her with so much seriousness you would think it was full of people waiting for a heart transplant.
“Samantha Rousseau.” I watched her as she looked at the list and then back to me. “I’m from the university.”
“I see. Just a moment.” She walked away, her hair swishing behind her like she was walking in a wind tunnel for a photo shoot and I found myself wondering how she did that.
She returned a moment later, accompanied by a man with a bored look. He was tall, thin, and older, and reminded me of Alfred from the Batman movies. But without any of the humor or intelligence. His eyes traveled over my big winter coat and glimmered with disgust. He lived here, didn’t he? How could he think it was weird to wear a big winter coat?
“Miss…” He looked at me expectantly.
“Rousseau. Samantha Rousseau.”
“Miss Rousseau, your name isn’t on the list.”
“I’m sure it was a simple mistake.” I narrowed my eyes at the man. “Perhaps you could go check with the duchess.”
“I’m sure the duchess would have informed me had she been expecting someone else for dinner.” He smiled at me and I had to take a deep breath before answering.
“Well, as close as you apparently are with the duchess, it must’ve slipped her mind.” I leaned forward. “Look, I’m just trying to keep an appointment here. Can’t you go ask her if she was expecting me?”
“I’m afraid it is against policy to bother guests while they are dining.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I brushed the hair out of my eyes and glared at mini-Alfred. “Just go ask her.”
“Miss Rousseau, this is a very respectable restaurant. I suggest you leave and not cause a scene. I will call security if I need to.”
“I suggest you go ask the duchess if she’s expecting me, or go ahead and call security and you can expect a scene. Then when she sees you escorting me out of the restaurant, you can explain why you sent me away.”
“I’ll go. This once.” He eyed me for a long moment before sighing heavily. “If it turns out you are not an invited member of their party, I will be returning with security.”
“And you can apologize when you get back with your tail between your legs.” Operation Pissed was coming into play. I had a hard time holding my tongue when I got into that mode.
The man sniffed again and I was tempted to offer him a tissue but bit the inside of my cheek instead. “We’ll see.”
He walked away from the little podium and the blond hostess took his place. She ignored me as if I wasn’t there, and that was just fine by me. I slid closer and looked at the sheet in front of her. Just before she covered it with her arm, my eyes landed on my name.
“Oh, now that’s just rude.” I turned away and quickly followed the old man to a table in the center of the room. Those petty jerks were trying to keep me out because they thought I didn’t belong? Because of my truck or my clothes?
My furious stride made quick work of the space between the door and the table Alfred was standing next to. I caught up to him in time to hear the last of his words.
“She looks rather questionable.”
“The ‘rather questionable’ woman is standing right behind you.” You stupid little dildo. I glared at his head, barely registering the people at the table until they stood up.
“I was told the Parallel, and I would assume its restaurant, was used to hosting dignitaries and royalty.” The woman’s voice was calm and cool. “Your tone would be embarrassing no matter who you thought Lady Rousseau was.”
My eyes jerked to the woman and I wondered if the duchess was losing her mind. Perhaps it was appropriate to address people by Lady or Sir in their country. Her mouth twitched in amusement as she watched the man grovel and I decided she must be teaching him a lesson. She might be my hero.
“I’m so sorry, I had no idea….” The Alfred-wannabe was sputtering apologies and it took all my willpower to keep from rolling my eyes.
“No, don’t apologize to me. Apologize to Lady Rousseau.” Her eyes twinkled when she looked at me.
“My apologies, Miss—I mean, Lady Rousseau.”
I bowed my head a little. “Accepted. Perhaps you shouldn’t be so quick to judge next time.”
“Yes, my lady. May I take your coat?”
I shrugged out of my coat and that’s when I felt his eyes on me. Looking up, I realized Prince Yummy had indeed come for the dinner. Jess and the undergrads had been wrong. He wasn’t yummy, he was delicious; a feast to be savored. Dark blonde hair hung a smidge too long, eyes so blue it was like looking into the heart of a glacier. Built like the statue of David; the contours of his suit hugging every delicious muscle. Laugh lines around his mouth and eyes brought him into the realm of humanity, and gave him a personality. As his eyes ran over my face and down my body slowly, heat washed over my skin. When I handed the jacket to the maître d’ I felt nak*d. There was something about his bright blue eyes that left me feeling exposed.
“Thank you, Alfred.” I mumbled the words, feeling completely off guard by the look I’d just received. The man left without a word, and I really hoped he didn’t do anything nasty to my jacket.
“Alfred?” The prince’s mouth quirked on one side, revealing a dimple, and I wondered if a dimple could kill a person. It was possible I was having a heart attack right now. “Is that his name?”
“Oh, you know. He looks a bit like Batman’s butler, but without the wicked sense of humor.” I winced. I was speaking to a prince, a real live prince, and my first interaction was describing a comic book character. At least I wasn’t a slobbering mess looking at him.
“I vaguely recall something about Batman and his butler.” The princes’ eyes glittered mischievously. I felt my mouth twist a little, relieved he had gotten my ill-timed sense of humor. “I would have pegged him more as Jarvis. Slow, annoyed voice.”
“Samantha, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” The Duchess held her hand out for me and for a brief moment I panicked not sure if I was supposed to bow over it or shake it. I decided if she was in America I was just going to shake it. Her fingers were dry and warm, her grip surprisingly tight. “I’m Rose.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” Jesus. I should have read that article myself. I had no idea what to say or how to act.
“This is my nephew, Alex.” I turned toward the outstretched hand and hoped my palms weren’t sweaty.
“An honor to meet you.” As soon as the words had left my mouth, I regretted them. Why had I said that? Why didn’t I just say it was nice to meet him? Surely it hadn’t sounded like a come-on. I was just being paranoid. How had I lost control of this evening already? Who was I kidding? I’d lost control as soon as that weirdo, Duvall had approached me.
“The honor is mine. Trust me.” Instead of shaking, he lifted my hand to his mouth and his lips brushed across my knuckles gently. They were warm and full, and my body tingled at the contact. I stopped breathing for a moment and had to remind myself that oxygen was important. When he lowered my hand, his thumb ran over my knuckles. He knew how to affect a woman, that was for sure. Stepping around me, he pulled my chair out. I don’t think anyone has ever pulled a chair out for me. It was weird. What did I do with my feet? The stupid heels caught on the floor and almost came off, so I just lifted them up until he was done.
He moved around to his aunt and helped her into her chair as well. She was watching me with bright, intelligent eyes and I wondered what she was thinking. I felt a bit like she was measuring me. She motioned to the waitress standing off to the side and I was offered a glass of wine. I took it, but only to be courteous. I was already feeling out of my element.