Lessons in Seduction (4 page)

Adam laughed. “Yes.”

For the next few minutes they ate in appreciative silence. Finally, sated and the dessert finished, Danni set down her bowl.

“Not licking it?” Adam asked, teasing in his tone.

“Trust me, I thought about it. I have only one complaint.”

He asked the question with his eyes.

“I don't think I'm going to be able to do the hot chocolate justice now.”

“You'll give it your best shot, though?”

“It would be cowardly of me not to at least try. But I think I have to stand and give it a few minutes before I make the attempt.” She crossed to one of the long vertical windows. A single snowflake drifted past the narrow pane of glass, lonely and aimless.

The grounds close to the palace were well lit but farther out, the light faded to shadows illuminated only sporadically by pools of brightness for either security or decoration or both. Occasional statues and trees stood
spotlighted. And in the distance a building… “I think I can see the gatehouse.”

“Beyond the stand of trees to the west?”

“Yes. I don't remember being able to see it from the library.”

He lifted a shoulder. “It's been a while since you were here. You're taller.”

“I guess. The lights are still on,” she said turning her gaze back to the window. “That probably means Dad's fallen asleep watching TV again.”

“Do you remember the first time I saw you in here?”

“I try not to.” Ever since he mentioned the word
taller
she'd wanted to steer the conversation in a different direction. She watched his reflection in the glass. He frowned. “I'm still a little embarrassed. I remember what I said.”

His frown eased to a smile. “That just because I was taller and could reach the higher books and just because I was a prince, didn't make me any better than you.”

“Yeah, that. Thanks for the reminder.”

He was still smiling, with his eyes at least. “You're welcome.”

“I had a little chip on my shoulder.”

“No kidding.”

“I was new here. Feeling out of place, and a little, no, a lot, intimidated and insecure.”

“I knew that.”

Danni turned back to him. “You were good to me, telling me that you were glad I didn't think of you as any different because you were a prince, because so many people did treat you differently.” Danni laughed. “And then you said that maybe being taller made you a little bit better though.” She pointed to a shelf. “Look.
The atlas is still up there. You helped me find America on it. Asked about where I'd come from.” He had the people skills even then that made him such a good prince today, made him so well loved by his countrymen.

“I don't want to tarnish my image, but I was supposed to be studying and didn't want to. You were my excuse not to.”

She remembered him sitting at the desk, books spread all over it. To her, at five years old, his ten years had made him look almost grown up. Ultimately, the fact that he became her protector and champion till she found her feet had indebted her to him.

For a long time after that she'd worshipped him, refusing to hear a hint of a bad word spoken, even in jest, about him by any of the other palace children.

“So, your date?” Danni prompted, looking back at him. That was why she was here. To help him find the right woman. Not to reminisce. She could return that favor he'd done her all those years ago.

Tension crept back into his shoulders. She ought not to be thinking about smoothing her hand over his brow, or massaging those broad shoulders. “You said the date was worse? I have to say, from where I sat, it looked to be going remarkably well.”

Adam shook his head. “Appearances can be deceiving. It turned out we weren't all that compatible. I realized I'd left an important criterion off my list.”

“Being?”

“A certain restraint in the consumption of alcohol.”

Adam picked up the hot chocolates and carried them over to her. Danni reached for one, wrapping her fingers around the mug. “Anna could just have been
nervous. She might actually be shy and reserved and conservative. Maybe she was so nervous she drank more than she would have normally. You can be intimidating.”

“Not on a date. At least I try not to be,” he added, forestalling her argument.

“There wasn't a lot to her, it wouldn't take much alcohol. And if she was shy…”

“That occurred to me,” Adam said, standing shoulder to shoulder with her and looking out into the night. “But the suggestions she made as to how we might carry on with our date didn't seem entirely consistent with someone shy and reserved, or the least bit conservative.”

Danni didn't want to imagine. “You didn't take her up on them? Because from what I saw you didn't seem entirely unhappy with the situation.”

Adam turned his head and his grin had an endearing boyishness to it. “I had a beautiful woman in my lap wanting to take advantage of me. Of course I wasn't unhappy. And I didn't want to be rude.”

“Of course not. Always the gentleman. But?”

The smile dimmed, turned serious. “There was no real chemistry. Not when we talked. Not even when we kissed. So, aside from the fact that she was well on her way to being drunk, there was never going to be a second date. Although she claimed that didn't bother her, it wouldn't have been…right.”

Danni didn't analyze her relief or why his sense of honor pleased her quite so much. “She might not have been such a good look in a future crown princess, either.”

“No.”

“And your father wouldn't have approved.”

“Ahh, no.”

“So it worked out for the best.”

“Yes.”

“And clearly you don't actually need my services. Anna certainly found you attractive at least.”

“Anna was drunk.”

“I don't think that's necessary for a woman to find you attractive.” In fact she knew it wasn't. Not a drop of alcohol had passed Danni's lips and she had no trouble finding him attractive. Too much so. His eyes, his lips, his chest—so much about him fascinated her. Which was why it might be best if they ended this arrangement.

“I know it's not. But being serious about the process certainly takes the fun out of it.”

“Well of course it does if you approach it with the determination and precision of a military exercise. What was the last fun date you went on?”

“I'm not discussing past dates with you, Danni.”

“You wanted my help.”

“With future dates not past ones.”

“But maybe if you told me about the ones that worked. Or about Michelle.”

“No.”

And maybe she didn't really want to know about past successful dates. She just needed to help him find a solution to his current dilemma. “So find a woman who enjoys the same things as you and do some of them together. That way you know you'll both at least have fun even if it doesn't turn into anything more.”

Adam nodded as though considering her suggestion but said nothing.

“So what do you enjoy doing?” she prompted.

“I hardly remember,” he said with a frown and a shake of his head that implied he didn't think it was all that important. “It's been so long since I did anything just for the fun of it. That's not what my life is about now.”

“And it shows.”

“Care to explain?”

Did she imagine that hint of tightness in his voice? “You don't need me to explain. And it wasn't a criticism.”

“Much.”

“It was a statement. You carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, you do everything you can for your family and the country, and you don't seem to do anything just for you. Just for the pure enjoyment of it. A little impulsiveness every now and then wouldn't kill you. All work and no play…”

“I play polo,” he said triumphantly. “When my schedule allows,” he added.

“I've seen you and the way you play—” she shook her head “—that's not anyone's definition of fun. You play as intensely as you work.”

“But I enjoy it.”

“It still doesn't make for much of a date for anyone else. And it's too structured. What about doing things on impulse? For laughs, for fun. Read my lips. Fun. F.U.N. Fun.”

His gaze seemed to fix on her mouth as she spoke, and his frown returned. Why did he so often frown when he looked at her? She got the feeling he wasn't even listening to her.

There had been something else she was going to
add, but words and thought evaporated, replaced by an awareness she couldn't repress. Awareness of standing here with Adam. Close enough to touch. Awareness of the fact that although he'd fastened some of his buttons, he still had too many undone for her comfort, some of which he'd undone at her insistence. Awareness of that glimpse of chest, which was even more appealing than it had been earlier in the evening. And of the way he smelled—divine.

A
dam looked at Danni and felt himself leaning closer. He knew all about impulse—and about fighting it. Impulse told him to kiss her, to pull her into his arms and silence her with his lips on hers.

That
would be pure enjoyment.

Far more even than watching her devour the cheesecake. He'd wanted some way of showing he appreciated what she was doing for him; feeding her had seemed like the perfect solution. But she ate with such uncensored sensual pleasure that he'd quickly come to regret the gesture.

The urge to kiss her now shocked him but he wouldn't let it overly concern him. His life was all about
not
acting on impulse. It was about always considering options and consequences before taking action.

But in a perverse way, it was as though since he'd
become serious about finding a wife, his subconscious was trying to thwart him, like a man looking to buy a nice safe Volvo who suddenly sees the perfect tempting Ferrari for sale.

He reminded himself that he'd known Danni since they were kids. It sent a jolt of surprise through him every time he looked at her and realized anew that she was most definitely no longer a kid.

After the evening with Anna, Danni's sparkle, her directness, her innocence were tempting him in ways that she could have no idea about. She wore no lipstick but even without her prompting to read her lips, he was most definitely thinking about them. Soft and mobile. About how the tiny smear of hot chocolate above her top lip would taste, laced with her freshness.

Her green eyes widened as he watched her and he could only hope his thoughts didn't show. Because he couldn't have thoughts like that about her. Because she was Danni.

But if she'd been any other woman, he would have reached for her and kissed that hot chocolate away.

He shook his head to clear it and stepped back, fighting the compulsion to step forward instead. Could her skin possibly feel as soft as it looked? “Danni.”

Her gaze was steady on him, a measure of the confusion he felt seemed to shimmer there. She cleared her throat. “Yes.”

“You have hot chocolate on your lip.”

“Oh.” Her quick burst of laughter held uncertainty and she glanced away. Adam passed her a napkin from the tray. “Thank you.” She dabbed away the hot chocolate. He almost regretted its loss. But if it stopped him
thinking about Danni's lips in ways he had no right to be thinking, then it could only be a good thing.

When he'd woken in the car the first time she drove for him the other night, with her leaning in close, smelling of mint and the cool night, he'd been swamped by an instinctive reaction of purely primal desire. The sort that had been blatantly missing from his date with Clara. It had kicked in before he'd thought to stop it.

And then, before he'd had time to rationalize it, he'd covered his unwanted response with cool civility. He'd tried to create distance and barriers. But he'd been so disconcerted that he spoke without realizing how she might interpret his words. And he'd hurt her. She was one hundred percent the woman he'd claimed he didn't see her as. No matter how desperately he wanted that claim to be true.

She watched him now, waiting for him to speak. “As for fun.” That had been what they'd been talking about, hadn't it? “I don't think there's time for that right now.”

She took a few steps away, putting a distance he simultaneously regretted and welcomed between them. That distance helped him think a little more clearly, and if he kept his gaze from her petite curves, it helped even more. The uniform she wore did her no favors but he'd seen those curves lovingly revealed by nothing more elegant than jeans and a soft sweater when he'd called at the gatehouse.

“You're kidding. Right?” Her eyes danced with ever-present intelligence and passion and a hint of mockery. Fortunately some things about her hadn't changed—the way she spoke her mind and the way she challenged him. Mostly he appreciated her frankness. Mostly. Other times it drove him nuts.

“This is a serious business.”

“I get that,” she said with a condescension he hadn't heard anybody use on him in a long time.

“Of course the woman and I need to enjoy each other's company. I want to like her, a lot, and to eventually love her, but I haven't got time to dither and get sidetracked. I'd like to be seeing someone by the time Rebecca and Logan get married. Whoever I take to that wedding will immediately come under public scrutiny. And just because I can have fun with a woman doesn't mean she's going to be suitable as a partner.” If only it was that easy.

Danni sighed. “So,
fun to be with
isn't anywhere on your list of criteria.”

He heard and ignored the criticism in her tone. “No.”

“That explains Clara I guess.”

“Clara was very nice.”

“You have to admit, even if she didn't want fun, she wanted romance.”

“Apparently. And I take the blame for that.” He hadn't seen that one coming. “In my defense, Clara had seemed more than happy to discuss weighty issues. She was the one who introduced most of the more serious topics throughout our evening.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Two syllables laden with cynicism and reproof.

He sighed. Her skepticism was warranted. “The thing is, in political situations I'm good at interpreting mixed messages and subtext. I look for it. I just hadn't realized the extent to which I'd need those skills for dating. I don't
want
to have to use those skills while dating.”

“It's just about listening, Adam, about not being to
tally fixated on your own agenda.” She set down her hot chocolate. “If your work is all seriousness, then doesn't that make it more important than ever for you to have someone who can remind you to have fun occasionally, someone who's fun to be with?”

“I can see your point but you're missing mine. Besides, my list of criteria is my decision.”

“You're not interviewing job candidates.”

Adam said nothing.

“You're not!”

He cleared his throat. “It doesn't seem like an unreasonable way to approach it.”

He could see that she wanted to argue but she bit her lip and long seconds later limited herself to a patient, “What else is on your list?”

“Just the usual.”

She laughed. The sound, light and almost infectious, broke the tension. How did she make what a moment ago had seemed perfectly reasonable suddenly seem ludicrous? “There is no usual, Adam. People have preferences but they don't
usually
have such rigidly official lists of criteria in the first place.”

“How on earth do they expect to find the right person?” His days and weeks were so full that he lived them by lists. They'd served him well so far.

She shrugged. “They just know. Like Rafe and Lexie just knew and Rebecca and Logan just knew. Without lists.”

“It seems unreliable. I can't trust in anything as nebulous as
just knowing
.”

She shook her head in reluctant defeat. “So spill—what's on your list?”

He hesitated.

“Maybe I know someone suitable.”

His list made sense but he knew that Danni would somehow make it seem to not make sense. But it was his list and it didn't matter what Danni St. Claire, pest from his childhood, thought of it, so long as she helped him.

“She'll need to speak multiple languages.” How had it come to this? He was sharing his dating woes with Danni. His driver. Next he'd be asking the head gardener how to manage diplomatic appointments.

“I guess I can see why you'd want that,” she said.

Despite her words he didn't believe her; there was a light in her eyes he couldn't quite trust.

“You can argue and make love in a range of languages. That'll give variety, that's important. It'll keep things fresh.”

He'd known she wasn't taking this seriously. “It's not for the purposes of arguing or making love. I attend endless diplomatic functions with dignitaries from around the world.”

Danni was grinning at him.

“You're winding me up, aren't you?”

“You do leave yourself wide open for it. Anyway, like I said, you clearly don't need me driving for you, or giving you advice. You're managing and I don't think we're going to agree on anything important.”

“No,” he said slowly.

“So, I'll get going.” She turned away and headed for the table to get her hat and gloves.

“I wasn't agreeing with you, I was disagreeing.”

Slowly, she turned back and a smile quirked her lips. “You usually are.”

Which was exactly the kind of comment he expected from her. “Anna was clearly a mistake.”

“That might be one area where we agree.”

“But she's not the type of woman I expect to be dating in future. I don't think there's going to be anyone else quite as…forward as her on the list. At least I hope not.” If Danni didn't stop grinning at him he really was going to have to kiss her. He turned back to the window. “And I'll admit you were right about the tie.” The tie she'd made him take off, practically ordering him to undress.

He shook his head sharply, disallowing the sudden image that wanted to insinuate itself there. He rested his fists on the window ledge and stared into the night. “A college education.” Focus. He had to stay focused. “Preferably post graduate. Preferably international.”

“Go on,” he heard her say and could discern nothing of her thoughts from her voice. That was probably a good thing.

“A good conversationalist, a good hostess, diplomatic.”

“Of course. Anything else?”

“She'll need to be good with the press and the public, especially children.”

“What about looks?”

“Tall, slim, attractive, graceful.”

“Hair color?” There was something different about her voice, something controlled. Which wasn't like Danni at all.

“It makes no difference.”

“Big of you.” That had definitely been a hint of anger in her voice.

He turned to see her standing with her hands on
her hips, her gaze narrowed on him and her lips thin. “What have I done now?” he asked.

She dropped her hands to her sides and shook her head. “You honestly have no idea, do you.”

“I have no idea why you're suddenly so angry, like a vengeful pixie, when all I did was answer the questions you asked. You were worried about me not taking criticism well but it seems to be you who's not handling the honesty.”

“I'm outraged on behalf of all women.”

“Why? Because I have criteria? You can't tell me women don't do that. Must be tall, must be good-looking, must not have a beard, must drive a luxury car and be able to support the lifestyle I'd like to have.”

“It's not what was on it that I objected to, it's what you left off. What about kindness, Adam? A sense of humor? What about love and someone you can just be with in the quiet moments of your life? All these criteria you have, they're just more of your barriers.”

“I don't have barriers.”

She laughed. At him. “You have more barriers than we'll need for the Grand Prix.”

“I do not.”

“You do. And they're all designed to stop people seeing the real you. You only want them to see the prince, a leader. But, trust me, you don't want to marry someone who sees you like that. You want a companion for life, not a subject. You don't want someone who's going to jump to do your bidding, who says only what you want to hear.”

“Actually, that might be pleasant. Surely it would be better than living with someone who constantly challenged and provoked me.”

“I give up. There's no point in me doing this, I can't help you if you won't even try.”

She headed for the door. But the Danni he remembered from the days they'd played chess and the times they'd played baseball never gave up. Ever. She wasn't bluffing, she was mad. He thought quickly. “Skiing.”

She stopped and looked back at him, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“I enjoy skiing. It's…fun.” Even the word sounded frivolous and insubstantial.

Her smile reappeared and felt like a reward. “See, that wasn't difficult, was it?”

It hadn't been as easy as it should have been. Maybe she was right and he'd become a complete bore. “I'm not a frivolous person.”

She crossed back toward him. “Nobody wants you to be. It's part of your appeal. But all work and no play…”

She'd used the word
appeal
or
appealing
in conjunction with him before. And she looked at him now as though there was something there that intrigued her. There was most definitely something in her that intrigued him.

And he had to quash it.

“So, you'll drive me and a date of my choice to the mountains next weekend?” Focus on the task at hand. That was all he had to do.

She shook her head. “I only agreed to drive for you once.”

“I'll make it worth your while.”

Her gaze narrowed on him as though she was affronted. “I'm not that mercenary.”

“You used to be,” he said evenly, not buying the mock offense.

Her grin slipped out. “When I was
ten
and only because my Dad never gave me pocket money and you and Rafe always had some. You'd pay for anything that you didn't want to do yourselves.” She smiled, perhaps remembering the same things he was, the errands she'd run for them.

“I have more pocket money now.” He winked at her.

She seemed as surprised by the gesture as he was. He hadn't winked at anyone in a very long time. But somehow Danni made the years slip away. He touched the bridge of his nose.

She sighed heavily. “I'll drive for you if you promise never to touch your nose again.”

“Pardon?”