Page 24 of That Prince is Mine
“Nice place,” she said in the most carefree voice she could manage. She wanted to smooth away the crease she’d put between his eyebrows.
“This is a shared foyer.” He cleared his throat and waved vaguely at the two double doors on opposite sides of the hallway. Emma nodded as though having all of two suites on an entire floor was totally pedestrian. He placed a hand on her lower back, and she shivered at the light touch. “We’re this way.”
When he guided her through the doors, she had to clamp down on a gasp. A wall of floor-to-ceiling windows showcased the LA city lights while sparkling crystal chandeliers lit up the interior. Every piece of impeccable furniture probably cost more than her monthly mortgage, but the place was undeniably beautiful. And the soothing earth tones of the walls and the exquisite area rugs adorning the rich walnut floors added a warm, inviting feeling to the elegant suite.
“I… um…” She cringed at the slight wheezing in her voice and collected herself. It wasn’t like she’d never seen a nice home before. But to stay in a suite as big as a good-size Southern California house? He belonged in a world different from hers. “Is that a grand piano?”
“I believe it’s a baby grand.” He tugged at his light blue tie, then dropped his hand to his side as though catching the nervous gesture. “The dining room is this way.”
The dining room was as tasteful and luxurious as the living room. But Emma almost burst out laughing when she saw the twelve-person table with two place settings at opposite ends—the long ends. “Are we seriously going to sit this far apart? We’d have to throw the saltshaker to pass it to each other.”
“I’m sorry.” His flustered gaze bounced from one end of the table to the other. “I didn’t realize the staff had set the table like this.”
“Maybe they thought you were expecting more people,” she said, eyeing the three sleek dining carts filled with at least ten covered dishes.
“I didn’t know what you liked.” A blush spread across the bridge of his nose as he ran a finger under the collar of his shirt. “So I ordered several different entrées for you.”
Emma forgot about her flash judgment that he was different from her. All she saw now was Michel, sweet and shy, and she just wanted to enjoy his company. With a soft smile, she murmured, “I think you might’ve accidentally ordered the entire menu.”
He didn’t respond right away to her teasing, as his eyes dropped to her lips, and her breath caught in her chest. After a sharp shake of his head, he managed a slightly dazed smile. “You may be right.”
She crossed over to the carts. “May I?”
“Please,” he said, his gaze following her every move.
As she lifted the covers one by one, Emma studied the artful setting of each plate and inhaled the delicious scents wafting toward her. Filet mignon nestled atop a delicate mound of polenta. Chicken breast with crispy, golden skin. Fluffy little pillows of gnocchi in a trio of flavors—cream, pesto, and tomato sauce.
“Everything looks so good. I don’t know which one to choose.” She couldn’t have asked for a more delightful dilemma. Like opening presents on Christmas morning, she uncovered even more delectable dishes. “Hmm. What are you having?”
“The Dover sole.” He came to stand beside her, and the air around her seemed to heat up by ten degrees. He glanced sideways at her, and she blushed for no reason whatsoever. “And what will you be having?”
“Everything,” Emma said, coming to the only possible decision. She replaced the covers on all the dishes and gave Michel a cheeky grin. “So are you.”
“I am?” Amusement lit up his warm brown eyes.
“Yes. This is what we’re going to do.” Emma moved their place settings so they could sit facing each other without the entire length of the table separating them. “First, we’ll each select a dish without peeking under the lids. Come on. Pick one.”
He graciously complied with her command and waited for her to make her choice. Once they were seated across from each other, he said with a smile, “What next?”
“Second, we’ll unveil the dish with a flourish.” She lifted the cover and waved her free hand around the filet mignon like a game show assistant.
With a low chuckle, he followed her example and held out a dignified hand toward his—she peered closely at his dish—sea bass. “This is the most flourish I can manage.”
“I’ll accept it. Just this once.” Her attempt at a stern glare failed miserably. “Third, we take a bite of our respective dishes, then switch.”
“Switch?” His eyebrows rose.
“Yes, so we could taste each other’s…” She trailed off with sudden self-consciousness.
Emma loved sharing food because she loved food. Sharing meant she could try more of it. And in Korean culture, family and friends ate banchan—small side dishes to accompany the rice—from the same plates, so sharing food came naturally for her.
Of course, there were people who balked at eating off other people’s plates. Which was totally fine. But it just hadn’t occurred to her that Michel might be one of them. She’d assumed that he was her kind of people because being with him felt so effortless.
“Brilliant,” Michel said, cutting through her thoughts. He gleefully rubbed his hands together. “Then we’ll repeat steps one through three until we’ve tried all the dishes, right?”
“Right,” she said, relief flooding her veins. He was her kind of people. Which didn’t matter at all since this was going to be their first and last date. The point of tonight was to have fun. “After we taste every entrée, we can each pick our favorite.”
“What if we like the same dish?” He leaned forward, his lips curling up in one corner.
