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As the evening wore on, we both continued to play very well as we engaged in lively conversation. Grace’s playful nudges and lingering looks seemed to increase as well. At one point, she purposefully brushed against me just as I was about to throw the dart.
“Foul!” I protested through my laughter.
“All’s fair in darts and war!” Grace crowed victoriously, her eyes dancing with joy.
We were tied, with only the bull’s eye left to win for either of us.
“All right—this is it,” I announced, feeling the enjoyable tension and fun between us. “Winner takes it all. Whomever hits the bull’s eye wins.”
“Let’s see what you’ve got, Your Highness,” Grace taunted. “The entire world is hanging in the balance. No pressure.”
“I’m not listening,” I said.
As I lined up my next shot, I felt her gaze trailing over me in appraisal. “Gotta say, I’m surprised some princess didn’t snatch Your Highness up ages ago. With a face like yours? The royal matchmakers must be slipping.”
I blinked, momentarily surprised. Was she flirting with me? Letting out an awkward chuckle, I launched my dart, missing the board entirely.
I turned to her and crossed my arms, finally figuring out what was going on. “Quit trying to distract me. You need to play fair.”
“What?” Grace said. “Can’t a girl give a guy a compliment? It was completely innocent.”
“Uh-huh . . .” I tried to shake off her words, but it wasn’t easy.
Obviously, it was the alcohol and nothing more. The interesting thing is, if I weren’t a prince in another country and we were just two average people, I could picture us as friends, the two of us hanging out, enjoying each other’s company. Grace was a good person, had a wonderful sense of humor, and was down to earth. Most people I encountered lately wanted something from me. Grace was not impressed with my royal status, and for some reason, that appealed to me. She was authentic.
I lined up the final winning shot, ready to triumphantly end our silly game.
“You know, you have remarkably muscular arms for a prince,” Grace mused, not-so-subtly touching my bicep. “Been lifting more than just royal decrees, eh?”
My next shot missed the board completely. Again.
“I’ve had enough of this.” I huffed. “Do you really think you can distract me again?”
Grace smiled. “As a matter of fact?—”
I let my next shot fly before she could finish her sentence. My dart flew swift and true, piercing the bull’s eye dead center with a thwack.
I pumped my fist and crowed, “Huzzah!” I turned to Grace with a swaggering grin. “It appears the crown prince remains unmatched in all pursuits, darts and otherwise. In other words, I win.”
“What?!” Grace said. “I get a chance to tie the game.”
“Making up rules now, are we?” I asked.
“No,” Grace said, playfully pushing me out of the way. “That’s the way the game is played and you know it.”
I knew that.
Obviously, this was my chance to exact my revenge on the sneaky American who thought she could fluster me with her faux flirts.
Two could play her flirtation game, after all.
As Grace lined up her first dart and furrowed her brow in concentration, I cleared my throat conspicuously. “You know, you have the most captivating eyes, Grace. I could get lost in them forever.”
Her dart sailed past the board entirely, bounced off the wall, and fell to the floor. Grace turned to gawk at me, momentarily paralyzed. A vibrant blush bloomed across her cheeks.
I felt an odd surge of masculine satisfaction at rendering her uncharacteristically speechless.
“Okay, I see how this is going to be,” she said. “You’re afraid I’m going to win, and you’re trying to distract me.”
