both cheeks with the same silken treatment.
And if she was not mistaken, he lingered while he was at it, too. Although she might have felt that way simply because, when his head dipped, her heart lurched into her throat and remained there.
"Until tomorrow," he whispered in her ear.
He turned and left. She couldn't move. She was grateful that Leonard accompanied him and Louis disappeared, leaving her alone with Emma.
"Your Highness."
Chloe sighed, letting her breath out slowly, melting a little as she watched him walk down the hall with a long, purposeful stride and start down the steps. The last thing she saw was the top of his head, his dark hair thick and luscious and begging her to dream about him tonight.
* * *
As he walked out of the great hall and down the stone steps, William had a sudden, inexplicable craving for chocolate. It took him a moment to realize he was also quietly humming a catchy tune about the same. The very same tune he had heard Moira singing on his jet. He glanced at Leonard to see whether he had overheard, but one could seldom read the secretary's expression.
Unlike Princess Moira, whose bright eyes and open smile hid nothing. Noting her pleasure at being home again and seeing her castle after such a long absence was like watching a child's face light up at Christmas. Her concern for her father's health was admirable. And her warm anticipation of his kiss—that was not to be forgotten. She had tensed up when he had kissed her on the plane, as if she had not expected it. She had been more relaxed this time, more supple in his grasp, less resistant.
As a man, he thought she rather liked his kisses. Maybe even read more into them than a traditional greeting. But he wanted to be her friend, and soon—before she learned of the marriage contract. All he could do was hope her father did not break the news over dinner tonight. If not, he could start on his friendship campaign at ten o'clock tomorrow morning.
* * *
Chloe followed Emma for what seemed like thirty minutes down halls, up stairs, along corridors, before Emma finally stopped, opened a wooden door recessed in a deep archway and stood back to let Chloe enter first.
Instead, Chloe balanced herself with one hand on the plaster wall and removed her heels with the other. "I need a foot massage. And a map."
Emma grinned. "It is rather large by American standards."
Chloe snickered. "UCSB could hold classes in here. How many rooms are there?''
"One hundred thirty."
And I thought I'd be able to find my way out in the morning?
"More or less."
"You've lost some rooms?" she teased.
"It depends on which ones you want to count. Is the dungeon considered one room, or three?"
"I see."
Emma extended her arm to indicate that Chloe should enter first. "This is your suite, Your Highness."
When Chloe's mouth dropped open in shock, she knew she'd done the right thing in turning down William's offer. She really had to acclimate herself to all this wealth before she gave herself away. "This is my bedroom?"
"This is your sitting room. You may dine here if you like. Do needlework—" Emma looked at Chloe, whom she'd known for years, and amended, "Yes, well, watch television, perhaps."
Chloe listened to her, of course, but walked around the suite, touching Roman busts and vases that should have been in a museum. On second thought she quit touching. "This stuff is priceless."
Emma smiled indulgently. "His Majesty thinks your American speech is, too, Your Highness. Perhaps you should not try so hard to speak...properly, after all."
Chloe didn't even pretend to be insulted. "Deal!"
Emma scratched her head. "Yes, that's precisely what I mean."
"But won't that make people suspicious?"
"There is nothing to be suspicious of, Your Highness, so you might as well be genuine. You've been gone so many years, I think they expect to see something exotic and foreign come home. I expect my own speech has undergone some changes." She said it as
And if she was not mistaken, he lingered while he was at it, too. Although she might have felt that way simply because, when his head dipped, her heart lurched into her throat and remained there.
"Until tomorrow," he whispered in her ear.
He turned and left. She couldn't move. She was grateful that Leonard accompanied him and Louis disappeared, leaving her alone with Emma.
"Your Highness."
Chloe sighed, letting her breath out slowly, melting a little as she watched him walk down the hall with a long, purposeful stride and start down the steps. The last thing she saw was the top of his head, his dark hair thick and luscious and begging her to dream about him tonight.
* * *
As he walked out of the great hall and down the stone steps, William had a sudden, inexplicable craving for chocolate. It took him a moment to realize he was also quietly humming a catchy tune about the same. The very same tune he had heard Moira singing on his jet. He glanced at Leonard to see whether he had overheard, but one could seldom read the secretary's expression.
Unlike Princess Moira, whose bright eyes and open smile hid nothing. Noting her pleasure at being home again and seeing her castle after such a long absence was like watching a child's face light up at Christmas. Her concern for her father's health was admirable. And her warm anticipation of his kiss—that was not to be forgotten. She had tensed up when he had kissed her on the plane, as if she had not expected it. She had been more relaxed this time, more supple in his grasp, less resistant.
As a man, he thought she rather liked his kisses. Maybe even read more into them than a traditional greeting. But he wanted to be her friend, and soon—before she learned of the marriage contract. All he could do was hope her father did not break the news over dinner tonight. If not, he could start on his friendship campaign at ten o'clock tomorrow morning.
* * *
Chloe followed Emma for what seemed like thirty minutes down halls, up stairs, along corridors, before Emma finally stopped, opened a wooden door recessed in a deep archway and stood back to let Chloe enter first.
Instead, Chloe balanced herself with one hand on the plaster wall and removed her heels with the other. "I need a foot massage. And a map."
Emma grinned. "It is rather large by American standards."
Chloe snickered. "UCSB could hold classes in here. How many rooms are there?''
"One hundred thirty."
And I thought I'd be able to find my way out in the morning?
"More or less."
"You've lost some rooms?" she teased.
"It depends on which ones you want to count. Is the dungeon considered one room, or three?"
"I see."
Emma extended her arm to indicate that Chloe should enter first. "This is your suite, Your Highness."
When Chloe's mouth dropped open in shock, she knew she'd done the right thing in turning down William's offer. She really had to acclimate herself to all this wealth before she gave herself away. "This is my bedroom?"
"This is your sitting room. You may dine here if you like. Do needlework—" Emma looked at Chloe, whom she'd known for years, and amended, "Yes, well, watch television, perhaps."
Chloe listened to her, of course, but walked around the suite, touching Roman busts and vases that should have been in a museum. On second thought she quit touching. "This stuff is priceless."
Emma smiled indulgently. "His Majesty thinks your American speech is, too, Your Highness. Perhaps you should not try so hard to speak...properly, after all."
Chloe didn't even pretend to be insulted. "Deal!"
Emma scratched her head. "Yes, that's precisely what I mean."
"But won't that make people suspicious?"
"There is nothing to be suspicious of, Your Highness, so you might as well be genuine. You've been gone so many years, I think they expect to see something exotic and foreign come home. I expect my own speech has undergone some changes." She said it as
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