Loving the Princess by A.C. Arthur

Author:A.C. Arthur
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2017-08-04T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

“This is kidnapping,” Sam said when Gary slid in beside her on the backseat of the car.

“No,” he replied in that cool and aloof manner of his. “It’s a dinner date.”

Sam looked out the window and tried not to frown. “A person would have to be asked to go somewhere for this to be considered a date. You jumping into my car and directing my driver to go someplace else? That’s kidnapping.”

“You’ve been dodging me for the past week, so there was no time to ask you” was his stiff reply.

She sensed he was doing the same thing she was, staring out the window to avoid looking at her. That made this scenario all the more annoying.

“Your claim of ‘dodging’ is false. I’ve seen you every day in the past week,” she said after a few seconds of silence. Why she didn’t want him to have the last word, Sam couldn’t say. She picked up her purse, opened it and pushed things around. What was she looking for? She didn’t know; it was only imperative that she did something with her hands. Or she might just strangle him. Or would she let her hands fall to his strong shoulders and glide slowly down his arms?

How many times this week had she thought about touching him? How many times had those thoughts had her on the brink of going to his room? Too many to count and too many to be comfortable with.

“That was business,” he told her simply.

“And what’s this?” she asked and then—because she couldn’t help it, his words had surprised her—she looked at him. “If this isn’t business, what is it?”

He moved slowly, turning his head and using his fingers to smooth down the dark hair of his mustache. It didn’t need smoothing, neither did the wavy hair on top of his head or the thick brows that would make any woman jealous. Gary was a soldier with a distinct male-model look about him. There was the gruffness of his tone, the preference for casual attire and those damn boots that were more than out of place as he walked around sunny and humid Grand Serenity. Then there was the swagger that announced his presence the moment he entered a room. It didn’t matter that his cargo pants and T-shirts were the exact opposite of what every other male in the palace wore, those garments suited him perfectly and kept anyone in proximity staring at him.

“This is a date,” he answered finally. “I’m taking you on a dinner date. Is that okay with you, Samantha? Or should I have Phillipe turn the car around and take us both back to the palace?”

The stubborn and irritated part of her wanted to say yes. She wanted to lift her chin and demand that she be taken home because of the high-handed way he’d dealt with her, for the second time in a week’s span. But she did not.

“Dinner is fine with me. Just as asking a person something usually goes over much better than demanding they do as you wish,” she said.

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