Page 28 of Handle Me

“Hey, I appreciate the gesture, boss.” I couldn’t help smirking. I agreed with her mother. Not about the call girl part, but about what it meant that Lola had felt the need to groom herself in a way that suggested she anticipated being touched.

Date or not, I’d be more than happy to help her with that.

And then there was the itty-bitty skirt she was wearing. It practically begged me to walk over, grab her hips, and—

“Anders!” Her sharp voice interrupted the fantasy I was about to have of hoisting her onto the counter.

“Sorry. It was a long day,” I said.

“I just asked if you were ready,” she repeated. In the twilight filling the kitchen, her eyes were large, luminous orbs that studied me with curiosity.

I took one long, lingering look at her, wishing I’d just picked her up and done what I was thinking. “Boss, I’m always ready.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

LOLA

The flowers meant nothing. So what if they were my favorite. He didn’t know that. He couldn’t. Anders was simply trying to prove something—or trying to get me into bed. I really couldn’t be sure which.

And why the hell had I told him about shaving my legs?

Things just seemed to slip out when I was around him, and if I wasn’t careful, the next thing to slip was going to be my knickers right to the floor. I managed to keep up a casual stream of conversation on the short ride into Towcester, but I ran dry as Anders pulled up to the restaurant.

When I’d searched for the finest dining nearby, I’d chosen the restaurant with the most awards and the most haute cuisine on the menu. It was part of my plan to polish my diamond in the rough. I should have done a little more research for my project.

Because the restaurant was in a hotel.

So much for controlling the signals I sent him. I’d already told him I’d shaved my legs, and now I’d directed him to a hotel. I was beginning to feel like an actual call girl.

Anders didn’t say anything as he pulled up to the valet stand, but he adjusted the mirror, peering into it.

“You look fine,” I told him.

“I look better than fine,” he said with a gruff tone, shaking his head. “Actually, we’ve got company.”

“Security?” I was going to have to call Clara again and ask her to speak with Alexander. If Anders’ brother didn’t call off his security teams, I wasn’t going to get anywhere with him. Anders would be too busy obsessing over the constant intrusions.

“I don’t think….fuck.”

“What?” I unbuckled and twisted in my seat, but the low-slung sports car didn’t have much by way of a back window.

“It’s not security.” There was a grim determination in his voice. A muscle ticced in his jaw, and finally, he opened the car door and got out. This time, he didn’t demand to park his car. He passed his keys to the valet, glancing at whoever he’d spotted behind us.

If it wasn’t security, then who was it? The parking attendant opened my door. That’s when the shouts began.

Paparazzi.

We’d been lucky so far, and even though I’d expected them to catch up with us eventually, I hadn’t expected they would be here when we arrived at a hotel. I’d thought someone inside would tip them off, and we would face them on our way out of the restaurant. So much for cleaning up Anders’ image and prepping him for life as royalty. Now I just looked like his side piece.

“Welcome to the Whidbury, miss.” He offered me his hand. I took it, bracing myself for the photos that would be in the morning tabloids. The revelation of a secret prince had been the juiciest story of the year, especially since Alexander had made it clear he recognized Anders as a member of his family and not just some bastard his father had tried to hide. That meant he was always front-page news. I kept my knees together as I shifted in my seat and took the attendant’s hand.

He guided me carefully up, and I focused on keeping myself from flashing any of the cameras. But when I was on my feet, I realized the attendant had been replaced. Anders angled his strong body between me and the press as if he was trying to shield me. A lump formed in my throat. He didn’t have to do that. In fact, he probably shouldn’t do it at all. It was only going to make them more rabid. But I couldn’t quite bring myself to say anything to him. Instead, I found myself grateful as he placed a hand on my upper arm and led me quickly inside.

“I didn’t expect that,” I admitted to him as soon as we were inside the lounge.

“Me neither.”

In the warm, safe light of the hotel lobby, I realized I needed to get this evening back on track. I cleared my throat as we approached the hostess stand for Monday’s, the restaurant I’d picked. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention to make it look like we’re an item.”