Page 11 of That Prince is Mine
It might even be true. When Charles Shim showed up, her mind had been full of a certain handsome stranger. She didn’t have the luxury of being distracted by something as fanciful as romance. Emma had to meet the right match to save Auntie Soo’s reputation and finally open her culinary school. She’d come too far to derail her dream for some man. But oh my God, what a man.
“Emma.” Her godmother sighed. “I would never push you into doing something you don’t want.”
“You’re not pushing me to do anything.” Emma took Auntie Soo’s hand and squeezed. “I want to do this.”
Emma had spent years of her life cultivating a warm, happy home for her and her dad. Having a family of her own, with her dad tucked into an in-law suite, had always appealed to her. It fit neatly into the things she considered important in life. With family being the most important and opening up her culinary school—sooner rather than later—a close second. Having a family and a secure job ensured stability.
“Even before those miserable Crones created havoc in my life, I wanted to see you matched with the right man.” Her godmother cupped her cheek. “I understand why you have a hard time opening yourself up to relationships.”
“I don’t—” Emma clapped her mouth shut. This was her godmother. She would see through her lies. “You know my parents’ divorce wasn’t pretty. It taught me that love was something that… faded. I would never bet my whole life on it.”
“Your dad fell in love with your mother even though they had nothing in common. I told him the two of them were too different and their differences didn’t complement each other, but he wanted to marry her anyway. I think when that first flush of love faded, there was nothing left to sustain their marriage. Their love had no roots.” Auntie Soo looked down at their hands. “But that’s where I can help you. The men I match you up with have so much in common with you. If you give them a chance, you’ll find companionship, respect, and maybe even love. Look at Uncle John and me.”
Uncle John and Auntie Soo had been so happy together until he passed away five years ago. They were husband and wife but best friends, too. Even after thirty years of marriage, they never ran out of things to talk about—they always had something to laugh about. The Madame Ddu Method really was the best way to secure a healthy, lasting marriage—a shortcut to the constancy and stability Emma wanted for her future.
“Do you miss him?” she whispered.
“Every day,” Auntie Soo said, her voice breaking. Then she sniffed loudly and sat up tall. “Your next matseon partner is an absolute gem.”
“Ooh, is he sparkly?” she said with a cheeky grin.
“Don’t sass me, child.” Her godmother pinched her arm.
“Ow,” Emma yelped, rubbing the poor mistreated spot.
“There is more where that came from”—Auntie Soo clacked her thumb and pointer finger together like lobster claws—“if I hear another word about you being gross.”
“You can put those away.” Emma laughed even as her heart grew heavy. If she was smart—and she was—daydreams about Michel and his stallion needed to stop. She instinctively knew the man would wreak havoc on her plans for a sensible life. “I promise to be on my best behavior for my next husband candidate.”
“I certainly hope so.” Her godmother sighed. “Word has it that the YogurtBerry family is in the market for a Madame Ddu for their daughter. They’re one of the most influential Korean American families in California. Whoever signs them will rule the matseon market for the foreseeable future. But the Crones will do their worst to keep them from signing with me.”
“Don’t worry, Imo.” Emma hugged Auntie Soo. “I’m sure the YogurtBerry family knows you’re the best Madame Ddu out there. And I have a feeling I’ll meet my perfect match soon.”
CHAPTER SIX
Michel unrolled the sleeves of his shirt, then rolled them back up past his elbows. Emma didn’t seem to have any objections to his attire the last time they met. There was no reason to fuss over his clothes. Even so, he examined his reflection yet again in his bedroom mirror. White dress shirt open at the collar, pressed gray slacks, and simple black belt. It was his casual attire of choice.
Well, today was an important day. Emma would be at the café for her date with another man. Once she chased him away, Michel wanted to present his best self to her when he convinced her to go out with him next. And how did he plan on doing that? He’d racked his brain for the past two days to come up with a foolproof strategy. But there was no such thing.
He would just be himself and hope that she felt the same connection he felt with her. Under the circumstances, it was only reasonable to pay extra attention to his appearance… but he still felt quite foolish as he turned this way and that in front of the mirror.
“You look immaculate,” Sophie said from the doorway. Her tone and expression didn’t veer from bland professionalism, but Michel knew his royal guard well enough to know when he was being mocked.
“You forgot to add as always,” Michel drawled, walking toward his dresser.
“How remiss of me.” She bowed her head. “Apologies, Your Highness.”
“What did I do this time?” He glanced sideways at her as he fastened his watch. She never called him Your Highness unless she was annoyed with him.
“Do? What could you possibly have done?” Her impassive demeanor slipped minutely as she stepped into his room. “Come to America without any security? Insist on keeping your identity a secret? Spend every possible minute away from the safety of your hotel suite? I can’t imagine what you could’ve done.”
“I have security,” Michel said evenly, knowing her grumbling came from a place of concern for his well-being. “You’re standing right there. And I didn’t come to America to hide out in my room.”
A low growl came from her direction. Michel wisely ignored it. He wouldn’t dare cross Captain Sophie Bellevue. With her wide eyes and glowing mahogany skin, she was undoubtedly lovely, but he never forgot that she was quite lethal. She might seem slight in stature at one hundred seventy centimeters and less than ten stone, but she was pure muscle, speed, and power. She could take out seven men twice her size in two minutes flat. Yes, he had sufficient security. No, he wouldn’t mess with her.
“I see that you are going out again.” By the time he turned toward her, Sophie was once more the picture of stoic capability.
“Just downstairs to the café,” he said with a twinge of guilt. Being a one-woman security team had to be exhausting. “You should take the day off this Saturday. I have that monstrosity of a report from the finance minister to keep me busy. Maybe I’ll invite Gabriel over. We’ll order room service and stay put all day. You wouldn’t have to worry about a thing.”
