Page 16 of That Prince is Mine
Michel didn’t realize he’d neglected to get Emma’s number until he was back in his suite. Grinning like a fool, he’d texted Gabriel to tell him why dating apps were inferior to good old-fashioned serendipity. Then he wondered whether he should text Emma to see if she’d gotten home safely. He wasn’t sure whether that might seem too forward since they hadn’t gone on their first date yet. He was halfway through typing his question about proper dating etiquette to his cousin when the realization hit him. It was as though someone had struck a gong in his head. Even his teeth seemed to reverberate from the enormity of his blunder.
Michel groaned again and dug the heels of his palms into his eyes. Thank God his cousin came over to get him drunk in his time of need. But there had been a tense moment when his cousin first arrived at the hotel…
Sophie had stepped close to Gabriel and snarled, “Do not let Prince Michel leave this suite. Understood?”
“Understood,” his cousin had answered, studying her face with somber eyes.
She’d glared at him for a long moment as though she had more to say, but then she’d stormed out without another word.
“What the hell is going on with you and Sophie anyway?” Michel let the cognac burn its way down his throat.
“Absolutely nothing.” His cousin tilted back his drink. “This was the first time she even looked at me since you two came to LA.”
“Exactly. Why is that?”
Gabriel glared at him for a moment, his jaw clenching, then he visibly willed himself to relax. His signature sardonic smirk returned to his face when he said, “We’re not here to talk about my love life. We’re here to talk about yours. Or more precisely, the lack thereof.”
“Wanker,” Michel muttered. He needed to sort out the mess he’d made with Emma before he could give proper attention to the fact that his cousin had called the situation between him and Sophie his love life.
“She must be on social media.” Gabriel unlocked his mobile and looked expectantly at Michel. “What’s her name?”
“Emma.”
“Does Emma have a last name?” His cousin employed the gentle, patient voice of an adult speaking to a lost child. Where is your mummy?
“Of course she has a last name,” Michel said with utter disdain.
“Well, what is it?”
“I. Don’t. Know.” He stood from the sofa to refill his glass and returned with the entire bottle. “I never asked her.”
Gabriel raised his eyes to the ceiling and sighed ponderously. “Do you know her profession, by any chance?”
“No, but that is one of the many questions I plan to ask her on our date.” Michel courteously refilled his cousin’s empty glass before pouring his own drink.
“What date?”
“Shut up,” he said with the maturity and dignity befitting the future king of Rouleme. “I’ll camp out at the café if I need to. She’s bound to show up again.”
“So your best chance of seeing her again is if she decides to go on another one of those arranged dates—”
“Matseons.”
“—after she agreed to go on a date with you?” Gabriel doggedly finished.
“It doesn’t matter,” Michel mumbled, refusing to feel as foolish as he sounded. “She never likes any of those men anyway.”
“But she likes you? Are you sure about that?” His cousin crossed his arms over his chest. “What happens when she discovers that your left nostril is ever so slightly wider than your right nostril?”
“I beg your pardon.” Michel stalked to the gilded mirror dominating one of the walls. “My nostrils are completely symmetrical.”
Gabriel laughed himself hoarse, tipping over to his side on the sofa. Michel calmly withdrew his mobile from his pocket and hit Record on the camera app.
“How undignified of you, Professor Laurent.” He tsked. “Your students will be thrilled to see the great Sphinx undone like this.”
His cousin shot to his feet and lunged for Michel when he realized what was happening. “Stop filming before I kick your skinny arse.”
“First my nostrils and now my arse.” Michel pocketed his mobile and grinned. “You really must stop insulting me, my dear cousin. Your reputation as the Sphinx will be ruined if I accidentally leak this video.”
