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‘There was a whole army of forks on the table. And knives. And four different glasses,’ Izzy mumbled. ‘Why on earth a person needs that much cutlery I have no idea unless you were just doing it to make me feel small. And as for the four glasses—after last night I’m just not that thirsty.’
There was a long, loaded silence.
‘So you’re happy to elbow your way onto the stage and hijack the entertainment, but you won’t walk into a room laid for lunch?’
‘That’s completely different. I sing all the time. I have confidence in my ability even if no one else does. I don’t eat in formal dining rooms being stared at by dead people.’
Astonishment flickered across his face. ‘Dead people?’
‘All those portraits. The people are all dead, aren’t they?’
‘Yes, but—’
‘It’s very unsettling. In my house we have family photos but they’re all of people who are alive. Dad, Mum, my sisters—actually, there is one of my gran and she died last year, but that doesn’t count because at least I knew her. There’s something truly weird about having nothing but dead people staring down at you.’
‘I’m confused,’ he drawled softly. ‘Is your problem with the “dead people” or the place setting?’
‘Both.’
‘I refuse to remove the portraits, but I can help you navigate the glasses and cutlery. It’s very easy. The simple rule is that you start at the outside and work your way in. Don’t put your elbows on the table and—’ he frowned at her ‘—don’t bite your nails.’
‘I’m supposed to use a knife and fork for that too?’ But her hand dropped into her lap and she watched warily as he leaned back in his chair, his gaze disturbingly intense.
‘I can’t believe you were scared of my dining room.’
‘Not scared exactly.’ Izzy bristled at the thought. ‘I’m not scared of anything. There’s a big difference between scared and uncomfortable. It’s just that there are all sorts of rules for eating in a place like that and I don’t know any of them.’
‘You didn’t seem too bothered about rules when you were swimming in my fountain.’
‘Are you seriously telling me you’ve never been tempted to swim in that fountain?’
‘Never.’
‘Now you’re lying.’ She watched him closely. ‘Admit it—just for a moment back there you were tempted to get in the fountain with me. You did think about it. If your PA hadn’t arrived when she did you would have taken off that suit and—’
‘I would not have taken off the suit.’ He snapped out the words and she stared at him, stunned by the sudden change in him. The transformation from ice cool to scorching hot was so rapid she found it unsettling.
‘Right. OK. If you say so.’ The whole atmosphere of the room had changed. A knot formed in her stomach and just looking at him made her heart race. She’d been trying so hard not to think about that kiss but the more she tried not to think about it, the more she thought of it.
And she knew he was thinking of it too.
Was that why he was so on edge?
For the briefest moment his gaze flickered to her mouth and then he stood abruptly. ‘I have work to do.’
‘Me too.’ Izzy stood, objecting to the implication that she was distracting him. ‘You’re the one who dragged me in here. I was perfectly happy doing my own thing.’
‘Your “own thing” involved swimming in my fountain. Are you capable of occupying yourself for a few hours without disrupting the place?’
‘I’m not a toddler.’ Izzy was about to make another quip when she saw the lines of tiredness around his eyes. Guilt pressed down on her. ‘You look like you’re having a really bad day. Is that because of me?’ He’d been forced to bring her here, hadn’t he? Her eyes slid to the stack of newspapers and she strolled over to his desk and grabbed one. ‘So did they cover the party? Any news of drunk, badly behaved sisters getting thrown out?’ But despite her light tone she hoped desperately that her own actions hadn’t ruined her sister’s engagement because that had never been her intention.
‘Fortunately they seem to have focused on Alex and Allegra.’
‘So you and your brother really stick together. Look out for each other.’ Used to family who were monumentally selfish, Izzy flicked through the pages and tried not to feel envious of the obvious bond between the two princes. ‘Oh—lovely one of Allegra’s dress. And her hair looks great like that.’ Was it her imagination or did her sister looked strained? She peered closer but decided that newspapers had a habit of making you look awful as she knew from bitter experience.
‘Just one British newspaper decided you were more interesting than your half-sister.’ He handed her a tabloid newspaper and her heart missed a beat because she could guess the headline all too easily.
This time it read Izzy the Entertainment.
