Page 15 of That Prince is Mine
“Well, that must’ve been awkward.” Michel came to her defense without hesitation. She ducked her head to hide her smile. “What about the second matseon?”
“I was hoping you wouldn’t ask that.” When he raised his eyebrows in question, she sighed. “He talked too much.”
“Some people love to hear themselves talk.” He scoffed, indignant on her behalf, but couldn’t quell the telltale twitch at the corner of his mouth. “That could grow tiresome rather quickly.”
“Mm-hmm.” She narrowed her eyes at him, catching on to his game. He wanted to convince her the arranged first dates were hopeless. She couldn’t help but feel flattered… and relieved… that her blunt refusal to see him again wasn’t enough to dissuade his interest in her. “My third matseon partner loved cats. And I’m allergic.”
“Yes, of course.” He nodded with impressive gravitas. “Asking him to give up cats for you would’ve been cruel. You couldn’t possibly do that to him. Or the cats.”
“You’re full of shit.” Emma couldn’t hold back her grin any longer. “You know that, right?”
His deep, rumbling laughter set off a thousand butterflies in her stomach. He propped his bare forearms on the table, his shirtsleeves rolled past his elbows. She found unmistakable evidence of rippling muscles there as his broad shoulders shook with mirth. The butterflies migrated to flutter at her throat.
“Tell me the truth.” His deep, conspiratorial whisper felt hot and intimate even though amusement still crinkled his eyes. “What about your date today bothered you?”
She considered flipping him off. Or she could argue that Paul Lim was flawless. But in the end, she leaned forward, irresistibly drawn to him, and confessed, “His nails were really square.”
“God have mercy on us all.” Michel made a valiant effort to deliver the line with a straight face, but he looked positively delighted with her admission.
“You must think I’m outrageously picky.” This was fun. He was fun. She worked hard on worthwhile endeavors—strived to make her life meaningful. But when was the last time she’d allowed herself to have fun… just because?
“There is nothing wrong with being picky.” He held her gaze until her smile faded and her blood pounded in her ears. “You deserve someone who knows what you’re truly worth. And those men had no idea.”
“Are you saying you know better?” She meant to sound haughty, but her voice came out husky and unsteady.
“I do,” he said with quiet certainty. “You are radiant and full of life. You are strong-willed but kind. You are… I have never met anyone quite like you.”
She should tell him he knew nothing about her, but all she could do was stare. When he looked at her like that—with something like awe—she almost believed he really saw those things in her.
They were both bent over the table, and not even a hand’s width separated their faces. He smelled like sandalwood and spice. His rich brown eyes had specks of gold in them, and they were staring at… her lips. Her tongue swept out to wet them, and his pupils nearly swallowed the brown of his irises.
“Go out with me.” His voice dipped so low that it sounded like a growl.
A shiver went down her spine, and her toes curled in her shoes. She had to be smart. There was so much at stake. Her godmother’s reputation. Her culinary school. Now was not the time to answer the wild call of attraction…
Oh, what the hell.
“Okay.” Emma nodded to make sure he understood she was saying yes. Sorry, Auntie Soo. But it would be just this once. As a present to herself. One date and he would be out of her system. “I will go out with you.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“My God,” Gabriel muttered. “You really are awful at this.”
“I know,” Michel groaned. He dropped his head back on the sofa and threw his forearm over his eyes.
“How can you not get her number?” His cousin sounded as frustrated as Michel felt.
“I panicked.” He sat upright and buried all ten fingers into his hair. “She said yes and I just panicked.”
“Didn’t you want her to say yes? Why would you panic when you got what you wanted?”
“She got this look on her face as soon as she said it. As though she was torn. As though a part of her already regretted her decision.” Michel frowned, remembering her conflicted expression. “I was terrified she might change her mind if I stayed. So I threw some bills on the table, grabbed my things, and took off.”
“Took off?” Something like horror dawned on Gabriel’s face. “You didn’t actually run, did you?”
“I walked fast.” His voice broke on the last word. “Very fast.”
“I need a drink just listening to that story.” His cousin stalked to the wet bar and filled two tumblers with cognac. “We both need a drink.”
