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Chapter Three
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“Crista.” Sheez. Even his voice was flawless. And yeah, I could tell after one word. The exotic flair of his accent flowed like aural velvet, a baritone mixed with a growl, masculine magic flowing from lips so sensual, they nearly belonged on a woman. “Has Ms. Stratiss departed?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
He exhaled. “Good. Then before Miss Fava arrives, I need to look over the ledgers for—”
His next breath entered him audibly.
As he turned his head, fully looking at me.
No. Through me.
Seriously, I had to have a giant hole in the back of my head now. Undoubtedly, brilliant blue light spilled from it, taking every synapse in my brain along for the dump. That wasn’t right, either. The hole had to be in the front, because all those neurons and memories and thoughts and dreams were now funneled at him…surrendering to him…completely and utterly willing about it.
What the hell?
No. He didn’t get to do this. Nobody did. Not anymore.
Get a grip. Get composed. Get clear.
I timed my breaths to the words, forcing my mouth to stay shut until it was time for wow-the-client roll call.
You’ve got this.
You’ve got this.
I’d rehearsed this presentation so many times, I could do it in my sleep. This man—prince—reality-bending force of nature—whatever the hell he was—wasn’t going to take that from me. The big girl panties would have to be lined with lead for the next hour.
“Surprise,” I told him with fake cheer. “Miss Fava, at your service.” I pushed out my hand once more. “Don’t you hate it when those damn Americans are annoyingly early?”
Shut. Up.
Shut. Up.
I rambled when I was nervous. I also made lame attempts to become the new siren of sleek and snarky. Massive fail on both fronts, judging by the man’s expression. He was nowhere near smitten by my sleek, nor captivated by my snark.
Well, shit.
What the hell was he close to?
Reading people was an invaluable trait in what I did—and I was good at it—but right now, he’d rendered me a babe in the emotional forest. His forest, in which he alone knew the way. I could do nothing but stumble along, following his lead. In certain circumstances, that might be an epic turn-on.
In this case?
No way.
Or so I tried telling myself.
“I am far from annoyed, Miss Fava.”
Deeper into the forest, lured by that exotic, velvet voice. Into the shadows, both mysterious and glamorous, of his alluring energy…
I shivered. Fought the chill by trying to be funny again. “Oh, give me time, Your Highness.”
He let his hand slip from mine.
