Page 63 of That Prince is Mine
“Sorry for yelling at you, Sophie.” Emma reached across and patted her on the shoulder.
“Not a problem,” the royal guard said with a smiling glance. Emma could do no wrong in Sophie’s eyes. “So where to?”
“We’re going to The Last Bookstore.” The squeal—though unvoiced—was evident in every line of Emma’s posture.
“The very last one in Los Angeles?” Michel widened his eyes. “And here I thought all that talk of Angelenos being shallow was a spurious stereotype.”
“It’s the name of a famous bookstore, smart aleck.” Emma slapped his arm playfully, and he couldn’t hold back his grin. “We’ll go there right when it opens before it gets too crowded, then head over to Little Tokyo for lunch at my favorite udon restaurant.”
“That sounds perfect.” Anticipation coursed through him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d walked into a bookstore. Did she know how much these simple, everyday experiences meant to him?
While Michel was grateful to Emma for introducing him to the charms of Los Angeles, he felt guilty she’d planned most of their dates. There had to be something she hadn’t tried before that he could surprise her with… He would love to see her beautiful eyes round with wonder and her dimple wink from delight. He would figure something out.
“I have a favorite bookstore in my hometown that I don’t get to visit often enough,” he said, feeling a little homesick. But Rouleme wouldn’t feel like home without Emma by his side. He couldn’t be sure, but something had changed since their picnic at USC. He felt her opening up to him—letting him in. Maybe she was giving him a real chance to prove that he was perfect husband material. “It’s enchanting. I would like to take you there.”
“I would love to visit Rouleme one day.” Her smile looked a little sad, but she hadn’t balked at the idea. He would take that as a good sign. He would have to push harder soon—time was running out—but for today, that would do.
He lifted her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist. She made a small breathy noise that set his heart pounding. He carefully set down her hand before he succumbed to the urge to wrap his mouth around the elegant length of her finger to see what kind of noise she made then.
With great willpower, he managed to keep his hands and mouth to himself until they arrived at the bookstore. The three of them—with Sophie trailing a few feet behind—walked inside just as a smiling employee turned the sign to “Open.” Michel had to agree with his friend’s low whistle of appreciation as he took in the store.
The Last Bookstore had the cluttered charm of a vast, old library but with an enchanting whimsy all its own. It was a two-level labyrinth of a store with Greek columns in the main hall. But with every space utilized to accommodate their innumerable books, it managed to feel quite welcoming and cozy.
“Do you want a tour? Or would you like to get lost in all this fabulousness?” Emma asked, grabbing hold of his hand.
He linked his fingers through hers. “How about a tour so I don’t miss anything important, but with the option to linger if something feels magical?”
Her expression turned soft and dreamy. “You say the most perfect things. You know that?”
“I do?” His brows climbed to his forehead.
“What am I going to do with you?” Emma whispered. Before he could wonder at the tenderness that stole into her expression, she turned away from him and waved for him to follow. “For now, I’ll give you a tour of this gem.”
She led them upstairs, then through a zigzagging path of bookshelves so tightly packed that only one of them could pass at a time. They made very little progress, stopping every few feet to finger through a book that caught their fancy.
“Oh no.” Emma spun around and nearly bumped into his chest.
He steadied her by her shoulders. “What’s wrong?”
“We’ll never make it out of here in time for lunch—who am I kidding?—in time for dinner if I’m let loose in the cookbook section.”
He scanned the vicinity and pointed with his chin. “Is that it over there?”
“Yes.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I’ll hold your arm. Just guide me past it, then we’ll be fine.”
He took the opportunity to stare at her lovely face, memorizing every precious inch of it. Then he led her down the path with his arm around her waist and said close to her ear, “Open your eyes.”
“Are you sure? It doesn’t seem like we went far enough…” Her jaw went slack as she eyed the books surrounding her. “Michel, this is the cookbook section.”
“I know,” he said.
“But—”
“I’m not going to let you rush past a section you love just for the sake of sticking to a schedule…”
Emma was already lost. Some books she flipped through quickly while some she lingered over a bit longer. But when he noticed that she was reading a cookbook page by page, he carefully led her to an alcove with an armchair. Since there was just the one chair, he sat down first and settled her on his lap. She barely glanced up as she pored over the book.
After nearly half an hour, Michel shifted his leg, just by an inch to get some circulation back, but the motion jolted Emma out of her trance. It was still early and hardly anyone had passed by them.
