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Before Marcie could get her order in, I stated, “That remains to be seen.”
“Well, fair warning, don’t go and wait too long. When it’s gone, it’s gone, no matter if you’re one of my favorites or not. I’ll have your order right out.”
“We’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Miss Susie,” I said, smiling when I saw a flash of worry cross my opponent’s face as she watched the woman walk away. “What’s the matter? Afraid you won’t like your dinner? I ordered corn on the cob, which is yellow and not green.”
“Nope, corn is good, thank you. I’m just wondering if you’re going to purposely drag this out until there’s no dessert left,” she said, her tone and the daggers her eyes were sending my way easily telegraphing her seriousness.
“Don’t fret, Princess—” Shit, I hadn’t meant to use that word and when her eyes grew huge, I rushed to fill the gaping silence. “I’m sure there will be plenty left. Besides, no matter what Miss Susie says, she won’t let me leave without something sweet.”
I couldn’t breathe until she gave a dubious nod, looked around again and then gradually relaxed. “For your sake, it better be Nanna’s pecan pie.”
Not giving her a chance to ponder my faux paus, I sat back in my chair and said, “Paris, and I mean the one in France, not in Texas.”
“Huh? Oh, right–”
When I whooped, it startled her enough to have her bounce in her chair. She began shaking her head while I proclaimed, “I told you I’d win!”
“Bzzzzzzzzzz, bzzzzzzzzz.”
Her lips vibrated with the intensity of her buzzing. Laughing, I shook my head. “Okay, okay, honeybee. Before you draw every wasp this side of the Rio Grande, I’m guessing you’re not from either Paris?”
“Ri—I mean correct,” she said, catching herself before declaring me right again. “Is there really a Paris in Texas?”
“Yes, as well as the towns of Moscow, Athens, Dublin, London, and even a Moravia. Come to think of it, Moravia is my third guess.”
“That’s your fourth,” she corrected. “Trying to sneak in not one Paris, but two, doesn’t make them not count. And as for Moravia?” She paused and when I nodded, she laughed. “I promise you I am not from there, or any part of the Czech Republic.”
While impressed she actually knew where Moravia was located, I narrowed my eyes and said, “You sure? I didn’t hear any buzzing.”
“Bzzz,” she offered, throwing a peanut, shell and all, at me before adding, “I’m as sure as I am about preordering that dessert you’re going to owe me.”
Catching the nut, I cracked it open and ate the inside. It didn’t seem to matter how many salty treats my princess ate. She was one little lady whose craving for sweets hadn’t changed since her days raiding the cookie jar.
Despite her hint about preordering, I spent the next half hour watching her attempt to eat her ribs with a fork and knife, laughing when she admitted defeat and clapping when she finally allowed me to pluck the utensils from her hands. I gave another whoop when she picked up the rib with her fingers and took a bite. The pleasure on her face was almost as cute as the BBQ sauce staining her lips.
“This is incredible!” she said when she took time to chew before sinking her teeth into the meat again.
“I told you so,” I gloated, grabbing a handful of paper towels from the roll and reaching across the table to wipe her mouth when she tossed the bone into the bucket that Miss Susie had set between us. The small gasp of surprise she gave when I traced her lips with my finger after wiping the paper towel across them, had my cock stiffening yet again. Forcing myself to be the gentleman my mother raised, I sat back and grinned. “Ready for another?”
“Yes, please.”
I’d probably eaten a small herd’s worth of beef since I’d made Texas my home, but never before had I enjoyed a meal so much. That included every formal extravaganza put on in any of the restaurants or dining rooms of palaces around the world. The fact I’d rather sit on a metal chair at a rickety table that had a matchbook shoved under one of the legs to level it than on a cushioned throne in a royal court flashed through me. The knowledge that I’d be perfectly content for the rest of my life to sit across from this princess and rip off another rib from the rack I’d ordered and pass it from my fingers to hers told me this was a game I couldn’t afford to lose. And I wasn’t talking about the one she was playing with me. I might not have been as attentive as she’d needed while growing up to be the woman she’d become, but there was no way in hell I was making that mistake again. I had no intention of ever again making her feel abandoned.
“Is something wrong? You’re frowning. Do I have sauce all over my face again?”
I blinked and smiled. “Nope, and even if you did, you’d still be the prettiest gal in the place.”
She rolled her eyes and took another bite. “Are all Texans such liars or is it just the wannabe ones?”
I chuckled and gave myself some breathing room by biting into a rib. For the first time, I realized why I’d stopped sending cards and little trinkets across the ocean. My travels had taken me many places and I’d met all sorts of people. In that time, I’d learned I didn’t want a milquetoast wife. I didn’t need someone to constantly agree with every word out of my mouth. Nor did I desire one who fought every decision I made. After meeting women far too aggressive, I realized I viewed most of the women from Emberly Isles as being at the other end of that pool. They were far too meek. I didn’t blame them because passivity had been pounded into them since birth. While that might have satisfied me if I’d never stepped off the shore of my home country, the fact was I had.
I’d traveled the world and when it was time to take over the throne, I wanted to rule with my wife by my side. Both of us would help guide the people of Doran to build the best future where we could all benefit. With our kingdoms joined by our vows, we could work toward bringing her home country into a place where all citizens had a voice. Most important of all, I wanted to do all of this together.
Glancing across the table and passing over her third rib, I knew that, while I was looking at the one who’d been declared the future Queen of Doran when the priest had inscribed her formal name in Emberly Isles’ royal records, she was not that same innocent babe. She hadn’t allowed the suffocating restrictions of her station to destroy the strength she had inside. The very fact that she was sitting across from me declared Marcie was her own woman and not only craved, but deserved, to make her own choices for her path in life. It didn’t matter to me if she called herself Mia and not the Marcie she’d been in her youth. All I wanted was to make sure the princess would be my wife. Not because her family demanded she be, but because she wanted me as much as I wanted her.
“Time’s running out,” she announced, adding the rib bone to the bucket. “You’ve had four guesses, all wrong,” she added. “Let’s hear your last one.”
Suddenly, I was hesitant about my next move. If I guessed correctly, I was fairly positive she’d wonder how I could possibly know and would remember I’d addressed her as princess and the gig would be up. Then again, if I tossed out another wrong answer, wouldn’t that make it all the more difficult to explain my reasoning when she discovered I’d been playing a different game the second I’d seen her twirling in the street?
