Page 3 of That Prince is Mine
“Relax. There’s no one close enough to hear.” Gabriel smirked when Michel raised his royal middle finger at him. “How are the lectures going at USC?”
“There was a bit of a learning curve in the beginning—it’s not exactly the same as giving a speech in front of the UN—but I’m getting the hang of it.” Michel sat forward with his elbows on the table, forgetting his momentary ire. “The students seem truly interested in the importance of international relations. How it could impact this changing world. It takes me at least half an hour to get out of the lecture hall because they bombard me with questions at the end. It’s fantastic.”
“I’m sure they’re enthusiastic about international relations… among other things.” His cousin’s lips stretched into a sly grin. “Such as—what is it the media always goes on about?—hair spun from the golden rays of the sun and a toe-curling accent that could melt the coldest hearts.”
“That’s rich coming from you,” Michel said with a pointed look.
With his jet-black hair and piercing green eyes, Gabriel Laurent looked as though he belonged on the silver screen. No one would guess that he was an exacting philosophy professor at USC, whom his students called the Sphinx behind his back. But to Michel, Gabriel was simply his favorite cousin, childhood playmate—when they’d been allowed to be children—and someone he trusted with his life.
“I’ve heard good things about your class from both the faculty and the students,” his cousin said with obvious pride. “For the time being, I don’t regret sticking my neck out for you.”
When Michel explained his fraught plan to his cousin, Gabriel didn’t laugh his head off. Instead, he arranged for him to come to America as a visiting professor at the University of Southern California. While Michel assured his father that he would also be carrying out his diplomatic duties, his royal status was shared only with the president of USC, citing security reasons for the secrecy. To everyone else, he was Dr. Michel Chevalier, a European expert on international relations. He decided to borrow his mother’s maiden name for anonymity, as well as for the practical reason that royal last names were a lengthy, complicated bore to recite in full.
“It’s a shame I can’t say the same about you.” Michel crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Aunt Celine makes it a point to visit the palace nearly every week to lament the fact that her only son abandoned her to live in America of all places and never even calls her. She likes to point out how I convinced the king to allow you to leave Rouleme.”
“Sorry, cousin.” Gabriel had the grace to cringe in sympathy. “Mother can be melodramatic.”
“It wouldn’t hurt you to call her more often,” Michel pointed out. “She just misses you.”
“You mean she’s hell-bent on guilt-tripping me back home,” his cousin grumbled.
“That, too.” Michel chuckled. “Even so, call her.”
He couldn’t help but envy Gabriel for his headache. The king’s sister was used to getting her way, but she really did love her children. Michel would give anything to talk to his mother one last time. Maybe she would tell him the secret to finding the woman of his dreams and making her fall in love with him. Tell him what made her fall in love with his father.
“Speaking of home,” Gabriel smoothly changed the subject, “do you plan on returning to Rouleme with nothing to show for your three months here? As I’ve said, a dating app is the way to go.”
“And as I’ve said”—Michel pinched the bridge of his nose—“that is not going to happen.”
“You’ve been in the US for over a month now and you have gone on zero dates.” His cousin brought his hands together to form a circle. “Zero.”
“Thank you for the reminder.” His middle finger twitched on top of the white tablecloth, ready to be sprung. He didn’t need a reminder that he’d used up one month of his three-month reprieve and was no closer to achieving his goal. A vise was tightening around his chest with every passing day. “I would certainly have forgotten if you hadn’t mentioned it.”
“It’s your quest. Not mine.” Gabriel wiggled his fingers and crooned, “But the sands of time are running out. You can’t keep relying on serendipity.”
“Yes, quite.” Michel arched an eyebrow. His cousin was really in touch with his inner arsehole today. “You’re a tremendous help in all this.”
“Jesus. You don’t have to go all polite on me.” Gabriel shivered. “There’s no need to resort to meanness.”
Drawing on the last slivers of his immaculate manners, Michel stopped himself from rolling his eyes and raised his cup to his lips. But he lowered it without taking a sip when she walked into the café.
This evening she wore a sleeveless cream dress that hugged her curves and ended a few inches above her knees. His eyes traveled farther down to her shapely legs before he forced them back to her face. Her skin was dewy and flawless, the pink of her cheeks and lips giving her a lovely glow. She wore her black hair in a loose updo, revealing the graceful line of her neck.
Clearing his throat, Michel tore his gaze away from her only to find his cousin studying the woman, half turned in his seat. When Gabriel faced him again with an appreciative whistle, Michel fought back a warning growl. Gripping his cup harder than necessary, he gulped down his coffee along with his unexpected reaction.
His cousin watched him in silence for a moment, then murmured, “Perhaps Lady Serendipity has already smiled down on you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Michel didn’t even know her name. He’d seen her at the café a few times in the last couple of weeks and had been scrounging up the nerve to approach her. But it was difficult since she only seemed to come here on dates.
She always sat at the same table, wearing a perfect outfit and an unflappable air, and met with a different man each time. The meeting inevitably ended with the men politely bowing and leaving her. If they were indeed dates, they were rather stilted ones. But what else could they be? All in all, it was intriguing. She was intriguing.
Whatever the case might be, he couldn’t very well march up to her and demand to make her acquaintance right after the end of a bad date. Although it might be better than approaching her after she’d had a fantastic one. Merde. He had no idea what he was doing. Should he succumb to his cousin’s nagging and create a profile on one or all of the dating apps?
No. Michel didn’t want to resort to online dating. He wanted to meet his soulmate by happenstance. Fate would bring them together if they were meant to be. But maybe he was being a hopeless, old-fashioned romantic, squandering his last chance to fall in love. Or could fate have already brought them together? His gaze listed toward the woman again.
“I better head back for office hour.” Gabriel glanced at his watch and got to his feet. “I don’t like to keep my students waiting.”
The other café-goers lingered at their tables as the sun made its leisurely descent, warming the lobby with a pinkish glow. She looked beautiful in the setting light, and it took some effort to turn his attention back to his cousin.
