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“Of course.”
As soon as they’d rounded the first corner, she said, “I have no intention of going skiing.” She paused to let that sink in—for herself as much as for him.
“Fine.”
“Or of visiting quaint Alpine villages you think are going to open my eyes to the wonders of Eldovian culture and somehow influence my work.”
He blinked, taking a moment to absorb her admittedly pissy declaration. “Fine.”
It was her turn to blink—in surprise that he had agreed so easily.
“I shall take you directly to the Riems facility and directly back, and we shan’t waste a moment talking about anything other than work, as god surely intended.”
Argh! He was maddening. She wanted to grab that stupid green tie and...
What? What did she want?
She wanted to get control of herself. She stopped walking. It took him a moment to realize she had done so. When he stopped a few steps later, she could see him steeling his shoulders before he turned.
“Mr. Benz, forgive my bluntness, but why are you making this so difficult?”
“I am doing no such thing. In fact, I must askyouto forgiveme. I thought you might like to see some of the sights we are knownfor here in our little country.” His sarcasm made her roll her eyes, as did the performance of his signature sniff. “I can see now that I was mistaken.”
She ignored what he said and addressed the real issue. “I’m not sure how many ways I can explain to you that if things don’t change, your economy is going to decline even more than it already has. Surely you can understand that.”
“What I can’t understand is how this vague entity called ‘the economy’ can be more important than people,” he shot back. “Specific people, I mean. People with children and bills. People who’ve worked hard all their lives.”
“That’s a little rich coming from you.” She wondered if the idiom about being born with a silver spoon in one’s mouth was familiar in Eldovia.
He raked the fingernails of one hand through his hair. Curious. She hadn’t seen him do anything like that. It seemed a very casual gesture for such a buttoned-up man. His hair wasn’t long enough to really get messed up, but ended up a little askew. It reminded her of the sofa at home. It was made of a sort of velour, and you could rub it the “wrong” way and it created a kind of visual disturbance.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he said with a hint of peevishness.
“I know you don’t get to be equerry to a king without being born into a fancy family. I know your grandmother and the king’s mother were friends. That’s not exactly man-of-the-people territory.”
“Did you ever readPride and Prejudice?”
“What?” That was quite the non sequitur. It also made her realize that she was still looking at his hair instead of him.
“It’s a novel by Jane Austen,” he added.
“Iknowthat.”
“Have you read it?”
“No.” His nostrils fired up, and she added, just to annoy him, “I’ve seen the movie, though.” He pressed his lips into a harsh line, and she took perverse delight in doubling down on being the annoying, crass American. “I also read an article once about how Jane Austen fans are basically like Trekkies who think they’re fancy. What do they call them? Janeites or something?”
She did not succeed in bothering him. He merely blinked. Which was probably good. Look at her:tryingto rile a client.
“If you’ve seen a cinematic adaptation ofPride and Prejudice,” he said, “you may recall that the family is genteel but poor. The Bennet sisters must marry well.”
“Yes, but—”
“You, who have never read Austen, are going to school me on her?”Herolledhiseyes as he interrupted her, and even though she wasn’t supposed to be doing battle with him, she took perverse satisfaction in having inspired an overt eye roll.
And, yep, she was going to school him. “One, they still had servants. They lived in a big, fancy house.”
“Yes, but they were only in that house until Mr. Bennet died. It was entailed.”
