Slow Tango With a Prince (Royal Scandals) by Nicole Burnham Page A
Authors: Nicole Burnham
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radiated from his pupils, adding depth to irises the color of sweet honey. Fascinating eyes for an utterly confusing man.
And his hands were still wrapped around hers, though she fought to ignore the warmth that flowed through her as his thumb grazed her knuckles.
“‘Want’ is a strong word. But yes, I’ll visit your fancy apartments and rave about the fixtures and floor tiles. And I can film right away, so you won’t need to tap your own financial resources. However, there will need to be a few conditions.” He regarded her for a moment, then released her hands and leaned back, reaching for the door handle. “Shall we adjourn to a café or to your office to discuss?”
“Café.” Until she knew exactly what his conditions were, she wouldn’t walk him into the office and give the staff false hope. “And I have a few conditions of my own.”
A wry smile curved his lips. “You believe you’re in a position to negotiate?”
“It’s not a matter of negotiation. The network has a standard contract for anyone who appears on the show.”
“Then let’s find a café. My treat.”
She allowed Victor to lead the way back to Café Luchana, where a hostess guided them to the same table where she’d spied him having breakfast. Once they were seated with menus in hand, Emily waved to encompass the outdoor space. “Twice in one day?”
“I wasn’t expecting this particular table, but” —he shrugged— “when I find things I like, I tend to stick with them. My siblings tease me about being a creature of habit, but I prefer to think of it as being consistent and reliable.”
“Siblings, plural?” It was her first glimpse into the man’s life, and she was intrigued. “Do you come from a large family?”
“Very.” He shut his menu as if closing the door on further personal discussion. “Now, my conditions. You said this morning that I could use a different name for privacy’s sake?”
“I believe I said that we don’t use last names, but I’m sure using a different first name on air won’t be a problem as long as the network has your legal name for the release and to pay your stipend.”
“I don’t require a stipend.”
“It’s not much, but we’re happy to do it. And as I said over breakfast, it can be a lot of fun to be in front of the camera. An adventure you talk about with friends and family when it’s all over.”
A half-laugh escaped him, but before she could comment, the waitress approached to offer a large bottle of sparkling water and to take their sandwich orders.
“No stipend,” he said once the waitress left. “And no release.”
“It’s mandatory for the show’s insurance carrier. No release, no show.” And back she went to the Winstons.
He took a slow sip of his water, his eyes narrowing as he studied her over the rim of the glass. In those seconds, she felt each beat of her heart.
“All right,” he said at last. “I’ll sign a release, assuming it doesn’t contain any terms that are out of the ordinary. But I must insist upon remaining anonymous. And that includes to your crew. Can you do that?”
Relief coursed through her. “Done.”
A group of college-aged women with shopping bags walked by arm in arm, laughing as they made their way toward Avenue Quintana, one of Recoleta’s main thoroughfares. A brunette with her hair in a casual twist glanced back over her shoulder at Victor at the same moment he slipped on a pair of sunglasses and turned away as if he hadn’t noticed. But Emily knew he had.
The man grew more interesting by the moment. She leaned forward and asked, “So what changed your mind, oh creature of habit?”
“You told me I was a poor judge of character, that’s what.” Though she couldn’t see his eyes, his tone and the self-deprecating lift at the edges of his mouth made her realize he was serious. “No one’s ever told me that before. I appreciated the honesty when you had nothing to gain and everything to
And his hands were still wrapped around hers, though she fought to ignore the warmth that flowed through her as his thumb grazed her knuckles.
“‘Want’ is a strong word. But yes, I’ll visit your fancy apartments and rave about the fixtures and floor tiles. And I can film right away, so you won’t need to tap your own financial resources. However, there will need to be a few conditions.” He regarded her for a moment, then released her hands and leaned back, reaching for the door handle. “Shall we adjourn to a café or to your office to discuss?”
“Café.” Until she knew exactly what his conditions were, she wouldn’t walk him into the office and give the staff false hope. “And I have a few conditions of my own.”
A wry smile curved his lips. “You believe you’re in a position to negotiate?”
“It’s not a matter of negotiation. The network has a standard contract for anyone who appears on the show.”
“Then let’s find a café. My treat.”
She allowed Victor to lead the way back to Café Luchana, where a hostess guided them to the same table where she’d spied him having breakfast. Once they were seated with menus in hand, Emily waved to encompass the outdoor space. “Twice in one day?”
“I wasn’t expecting this particular table, but” —he shrugged— “when I find things I like, I tend to stick with them. My siblings tease me about being a creature of habit, but I prefer to think of it as being consistent and reliable.”
“Siblings, plural?” It was her first glimpse into the man’s life, and she was intrigued. “Do you come from a large family?”
“Very.” He shut his menu as if closing the door on further personal discussion. “Now, my conditions. You said this morning that I could use a different name for privacy’s sake?”
“I believe I said that we don’t use last names, but I’m sure using a different first name on air won’t be a problem as long as the network has your legal name for the release and to pay your stipend.”
“I don’t require a stipend.”
“It’s not much, but we’re happy to do it. And as I said over breakfast, it can be a lot of fun to be in front of the camera. An adventure you talk about with friends and family when it’s all over.”
A half-laugh escaped him, but before she could comment, the waitress approached to offer a large bottle of sparkling water and to take their sandwich orders.
“No stipend,” he said once the waitress left. “And no release.”
“It’s mandatory for the show’s insurance carrier. No release, no show.” And back she went to the Winstons.
He took a slow sip of his water, his eyes narrowing as he studied her over the rim of the glass. In those seconds, she felt each beat of her heart.
“All right,” he said at last. “I’ll sign a release, assuming it doesn’t contain any terms that are out of the ordinary. But I must insist upon remaining anonymous. And that includes to your crew. Can you do that?”
Relief coursed through her. “Done.”
A group of college-aged women with shopping bags walked by arm in arm, laughing as they made their way toward Avenue Quintana, one of Recoleta’s main thoroughfares. A brunette with her hair in a casual twist glanced back over her shoulder at Victor at the same moment he slipped on a pair of sunglasses and turned away as if he hadn’t noticed. But Emily knew he had.
The man grew more interesting by the moment. She leaned forward and asked, “So what changed your mind, oh creature of habit?”
“You told me I was a poor judge of character, that’s what.” Though she couldn’t see his eyes, his tone and the self-deprecating lift at the edges of his mouth made her realize he was serious. “No one’s ever told me that before. I appreciated the honesty when you had nothing to gain and everything to
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