Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78844 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78844 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“Did that one end with a kiss?”
“No.”
“Then it wasn’t a real date.”
“Says the man who’s only gone on five and they’ve all been for pretenses.”
“Says the man who’s going to take you on one and make sure it’s real.”
“Oh.” I swallowed as butterflies flapped deep in my belly. I shook my head. I shouldn’t be entertaining this. “It doesn’t change the fact that we shouldn’t be seen together.”
“Because your father hates me.”
“No. Because I don’t need more attention in my life right now. If I’m seen with you, it’ll look bad for you as well. People will say you were trying to plot against your father or something.”
He scoffed. “Who says I’m not?”
My eyes widened. “That’s . . . ”
“I know what it is. In the olden days, I would’ve been physically hanged. Nowadays we have death by tabloid rumors.”
“And social media,” I added. His eyes twinkled. It felt like a smile, though his lips didn’t move. I felt mine pull up nonetheless and my curiosity got the best of me. “What kind of things do you want your father to do differently?”
“I’ll tell you on our date,” he said. “We can sit on my balcony, have dinner, and enjoy the view of the ocean.”
“Okay,” I said after a moment. “One date.”
“Seven thirty?”
“That works for me.”
A smile tugged at his lips. “I’ll see you later, Adeline.”
Chapter 12
I wasn’t sure how to dress on a date with a prince and lucky for me and the situation, I didn’t have the closet of the Princess of Austria or personal shoppers at my disposal, so I opted for a black maxi dress and sandals with a gold leaf over each foot. There was a knock on my door at seven twenty-five, when I was just finishing my eyeliner. I set everything down, looked at myself once more to make sure I was presentable and once I decided I was, I made my way to the door. Surely, he hadn’t sent Pierre to pick me up, right? That thought made me slow down as I walked over to open it. What if he had sent him? Would things be awkward?
It was one date.
One date with Elias and like he pointed out, my night with Pierre wasn’t exactly a date. Because the prince hadn’t let it become one. I shook the thought away and opened the door, blinking when I saw the prince standing before me looking handsome as ever, in jeans, a simple black T-shirt, and black loafers.
“You look beautiful,” he said.
“Thank you.” My breath caught.
He’d never called me that before, or said a compliment to me that felt like a compliment. Not since that night. I tried not to think about it. That was five years ago and this was now. This was one date. One date. I needed to make it clear to myself that nothing that happened tonight would happen again. The man was about to become engaged to someone and I’d never see him again.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“I think so.” I smiled, grabbing my keys and walking out behind him. I shut my door, locked it, and turned to him. “I’m surprised you didn’t send someone to pick me up.”
“That wouldn’t be a date.” His gaze slid to mine. “I’m trying to make a good first impression here.”
“You made a good first impression.” I bit my lip and looked away.
“Did I?” I could hear the smile in his voice, and even though I had no intention of confirming it, I really wanted to know if he remembered our night together or if he was talking about when I went over there with Etienne. When we reached his villa, he walked to the back and let me go ahead of him up the stairs. “Tell me about this scandal you’re involved in.”
“You looked me up.” My face flamed.
“Of course I did.”
When we reached the top floor balcony, I froze, taking it all in. There were little lights hanging from the back door to the columns of the balcony and a table with white linen and pink roses in the center. There were two place settings in front of two chairs sitting side by side that faced the ocean. Nearby, there was an ice bucket with champagne and a butler wearing white gloves, with a white napkin draped over his arm.
“Wow,” I said.
“Come on.” He chuckled beside me, grabbing my hand in his and walking me toward the table. He let go of my hand to pull a chair out for me, and I thanked him as I took a seat. He sat beside me.
“Do you get this creative for all of your dates?”
“Not once.”
I smiled, looking at him. “I almost believe you.”
“You should believe me. I’m not much of a liar.” He tilted his head. “Well, most of the time, I’m not much of a liar.”