Meet Mr. Prince by Patricia Kay Page B

her.
    â€œYou look fine,” he said again.
    Georgie would have liked to say something else, but she knew if she did, she would just sound petulant. Worse, she’d sound like a silly woman. So she swallowed the smart remark and simply shrugged.
    Zach, unfortunately, looked better than he had yesterday, mainly because the dark circles were gone from his eyes, and he’d obviously made an effort to tame his unruly hair. Why was it men could do the minimum in grooming and manage to look great?
    â€œOh, all right,” she said. “Just give me a minute, okay?” She wanted to at least brush her teeth first. Because a person’s smile was the first thing she noticed, Georgie was a fanatic when it came to her teeth—brushing after every meal, flossing nightly and making periodic visits to the dentist—usually between every assignment in the field.
    Five minutes later, teeth clean and makeup freshened, she joined Zach, who again waited in the outer office.
    â€œIt’s a good two miles,” he said when they walked out of their building. “I’ll get us a cab.”
    â€œI don’t mind walking,” Georgie said. “It’ll be good exercise.”
    â€œThe streets are messy, and I don’t want to be splattered with dirty snow when we get there.”
    Georgie hated that she agreed with him. “Okay, fine.”
    A typical New Yorker, Zach stepped right out into the street and stuck his arm out. Within minutes, a cab pulled up. Georgie had already figured out that when the center dome light was on, a cab was free.
    When Zach climbed into the back first, Georgie was surprised. But she quickly realized that he was the one who had to slide over to the other side and that it was much easier then for her to get in. “Thanks,” she said.
    â€œFor what?” He leaned forward and gave the driver the address of the cancer center.
    â€œFor not making me slide over to where you’re sitting.”
    There was that smile of his again. And dammit, it produced the same effect it had produced the day before. What was wrong with her? She didn’t even like him.
    â€œI learned about that kind of thing a long time ago,” he said, still smiling. “I have a twin sister, and she educated me about women and skirts and heels.” He chuckled. “Among other things.”
    â€œBut I don’t have a skirt on,” Georgie retorted, just to be perverse.
    The smile remained. In fact, now his eyes twinkled. “But you are a woman.”
    And just the way he said it, Georgie knew he thoughtshe was attractive, and her face heated. Thank God the cab’s interior was shaded. Oh, she hated her tendency to blush. She decided the best thing she could do was ignore the remark. “So you’re a twin,” she said instead.
    â€œYep.”
    â€œAny brothers?”
    â€œNope. Just Sabrina. What about you?”
    â€œI have three sisters.” She was surprised he didn’t know that. After all, all four Fairchilds had honorary seats on the HuntCom board.
    â€œYounger? Older?” he asked.
    â€œAll younger.” Georgie didn’t intend to say more. More than ever, considering her unwanted reaction to him, she intended to keep their relationship strictly business. But he seemed so genuinely interested, she added, “But we’re stair-steps. Only one year between each of us.”
    â€œAny brothers?”
    â€œUnfortunately, no. And my dad wanted a boy desperately. That’s why we have the names we do.” Forgetting she didn’t like him and hadn’t intended to be friendly, she laughed and said, “My dad’s name was George.”
    Zach laughed, too. “What about your sisters? Do they all have boys’ names, too?”
    â€œAfraid so. Frankie—actually, Francesca—is named for my dad’s brother. Bobbie was going to be Robert, and Tommi would have been Thomas.” Georgie made a face.