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  He was looking into her eyes in that intense way again, as if examining her retinas. “I like the coatings, especially the anti-glare. Your eyes are beautiful. I’m glad they’re never hidden.”

  “Smooth,” commented their driver.

  Alice grinned; Luke ignored the driver’s remark and then turned back to her. “How much can you see without them?”

  She looked at him over the rim of her glasses. “Well, I can see you well enough because you’re so close you’re breathing my carbon dioxide, but our driver has no face, it’s a complete blur.”

  “What about surgery? LASIK, isn’t that what it’s called?”

  “You remember my irrational fear of going blind? That fear is jacked up at the mere thought of doctors aiming lasers at my eyes.”

  “To correct them.”

  “Yes, but no thanks, I like my glasses. I’ve tried contacts, but they’re too fiddly if you want to avoid contamination. I’ve worn glasses since I was a kid.”

  “Damaged your eyes from reading, did you?”

  She nodded. “I stayed up past my bedtime and read using the light from the streetlight opposite my house.” She winced. It still made her wince. “Now I have book lights in my nightstands, and flash lights everywhere, so I’m prepared wherever I might be in the house if a blackout happens.” Or an intruder, she added to herself. “Your turn now.”

  “My turn?”

  “To explain your irrational fear of being underground.”

  “Oh. But no fear is irrational, is it? I mean, of course you won’t like going blind. You love reading.”

  Alice nodded and patiently waited for him to continue. He had turned away from her and was looking out the window. She moved their joined hands to her lap. He turned back to her and smiled ruefully.

  “I did promise to tell you the truth if you asked, right? And it’s like I can’t not tell you anything anyway. My uncle died when I was a kid. My first encounter with death. My grandparents died later, but by then I could better understand, and we had prepared for it. But when my uncle died, I was surprised and bewildered and no one would—everyone was too busy to talk to me. My parents were—”

  “Why?” Alice asked. “What were they doing that they couldn’t take time to comfort you? How old were you?”

  “Don’t be angry—”

  “I’m not—” But she was. Goodness, she was quite indignant on behalf of little Luke. “What were they doing?”

  “Dealing with the political ramifications of my uncle’s death. My uncle was the older son, you see. At his death, the—everything—passed to my father. It was unexpected and sudden. My uncle had only just gotten engaged and looked like he was going to start a family. And then he fell off his horse and died. It was so abrupt. I was there when he was buried. We have a crypt. It’s been in the family for generations—”

  “They took you down there,” Alice guessed.

  “That’s no place for a kid, man,” said their driver.

  “It was all right,” Luke answered the cab driver as much as Alice. “It wasn’t frightening in the typical manner. It was very well-lit by candelabra. But it was there that my life sort of changed. I became important all of a sudden. I became next in line to take the reins. I understood that without anyone telling me. All I had to do was watch my father.

  “Even now, I feel dread when I descend stairs to anywhere underground. I also liked my uncle very much, you know. And after I went down those stairs, I saw him interred. I don’t want to repeat that. Does that make sense?”

  “Yes,” Alice said, at the same time the driver said, “Damn.”

  “It’s all right, Luke. I won’t make you take the subway.”

  “Thank you.”

  “How many uncles do you have?”

  “He was the only one.”

  “So your cousin is an aunt’s son?”

  He shook his head. “Oh, he’s a distant cousin. Very distant. My best friend, you could say, even if he annoys me ninety percent of the time. We’re here.”

  The apartment building was one of the best ones in the street. It most likely had a doorman in its former days. The foyer was spacious. Two men lounged on a sofa each and talked to each other from across the coffee table. One of them nodded at Luke.

  “Hey, Andres,” Luke said.

  “Hola!” Andres said.

  “Oh, Andres? The one we thank for our table in Otto?” asked Alice, smiling. Andres got up and took Alice’s outstretched hand. “I’m Alice.”

  “And you’re apparently the reason this man here was so happy to go to church,” Andres said. “We’re just about to leave too. I’m not wrinkled, am I?”

  “No! Oh, you mean your clothes? No.” They laughed. “Are you Spanish?”

  Andres shook his head. “I’m from a country you might not have heard of.”

  “Elmera?”

  Andres was astonished. “How do you know that?”

  Alice grinned. “Luke is from Elmera, too. You’re neighbors and neither of you knew that you’re each other’s countryman?”

  Andres blinked at Luke, and then his bewilderment and pleased surprise turned into some sort of recognition, with disbelief coming in tandem with that recognition. It was what you looked like when you suddenly realized your seatmate on the bus used to be the school bully who’d tormented you.

  Before she could ask, Luke tugged her away and into the elevator. Andres seemed to come awake. He smiled nervously and waved. The elevator doors closed on him still looking after them, still looking stunned.

  “Perhaps he knew your family?” Alice asked. Luke was flushed and squirming.

  He rolled his eyes. “Perhaps that’s it.”

  Alice nodded. She wanted to ask more, she really did, but what was the use of knowing everything when they were only together a short while anyway? A fatalistic view, yes, but she’d prefer to be a realist now than a crier later. Better keep her distance than get too close only to be pushed aside and away later.

  Just because he kissed her didn’t mean she now had to know him from Adam.

  What was she doing here again? Maybe she could still back out—

  “My lord, I have been looking for you.”

  Chapter Nine - Luke

  He hadn’t even recovered from the near disaster with Andres and then there was Jules, sweeping open the door and greeting him as if he’d just come in from the garden at their house in Elmera. Jules did not approve of Luke’s ‘sabbatical’.

  Jules was wearing his requisite suit. Luke wanted to tear it all off and leave Jules in nothing but his SpongeBob boxers.

  “You must be Alfred?” Alice said, after glancing at Luke. “I confess you aren’t what I imagined after Luke said you kicked him out because you had a lady friend over. Though you do look like an Alfred.”

  Alice, adorable Alice. Luke gazed at her adoringly. He wasn’t in danger yet. “You can also see why I said he annoys me ninety percent of the time, don’t you?”

  “Leave me out of it,” Alice said, throwing up her hands defensively.

  Jules gave Luke one of his patented icy stares, but to Alice, he smiled. It was startling. The old coot looked quite dashing when he smiled. “Perhaps I should take the young lady’s coat,” Jules asked him. Alice made an amused face as she handed off her winter things to Jules. “This charming young lady is?”

  “Alice,” Luke said, observing the proper precedence in introduction Jules had taught him, “This is my cousin Alfred Neville. Alfred, Miss Alessia Luisa Martelli.”

  Probably due to hearing his name, Alfred came out of the kitchen carrying a bowl of cereal. Luke spoke before Alfred could. “And this is Jules Alcantara, Alfred’s nephew. We grew up together. Jules, meet Miss—”

  “Stop ‘miss-ing’ me, my lord. Hi Jules, I’m Alice.”

  Alfred looked like he was immensely enjoying this. He sauntered over and brought Alice’s hand to his lips. Luke wanted to kick him.

  “I’ve heard so much about you, Alice,” the real Alfre
d said.

  “You have?” Alice said. “When did you arrive? Wasn’t Alfred the one who’d been here with Luke?” And here Alice really looked at Alfred in nothing but his pajama bottoms, and then at Jules in his immaculate suit. Luke was briefly unnerved. Alfred kept in peak physical condition for his work as well as to attract women. He meticulously waxed his torso to show off the hard-earned muscles and Luke noticed Alice staring. But with a blush she turned to Luke and gave a nervous laugh.

  “I can see you’re puzzled,” Alfred said swiftly to Alice, responding to Luke’s glare. “My uncle lives and sleeps and eats in those stuffy clothes. I, on the other hand, always get rid of my clothes. Clothing is optional, don’t you agree?” When Luke’s glare intensified, Alfred went on, “I arrived last night. Luke threw a fit because I disturbed his sleep. Said he had to wake up early today. Now I see why.”

  “Did you get enough sleep? We brought food,” said Alice, indicating the sandwiches in their brown paper bag.

  “No, Alf-- Jules doesn’t eat anything but cereal. He’s on an all-sugar diet. Junk cereal,” Luke said. “He doesn’t have a share in the food. Alfred, get into something more comfortable, will you? Jules, help him find something less formal.”

  Alfred grinned. “You mean, I can dress him?”

  Jules’s lip curled, and Alfred minutely cowered. “I can dress myself, nephew. Miss Martelli, by your leave.”

  “It’s Alice, please.”

  Jules and Alfred left them. Luke breathed freely again. Alice looked at him quizzically as they laid out the sandwiches in the balcony table. “Alfred kicked you out last week because he’s got someone here?”

  Luke scratched his nape but couldn’t help chuckling at the image of Jules having a paramour for the evening. “Yes, Alfred kicked me out because he’s got someone here.” That was the truth anyway. How long could he keep this up?

  Alice nodded, still looking incredulous. “Maybe you irritated him. Shark’s Point was fitting punishment.”

  “Punishment? I wouldn’t say that. I met you, didn’t I?” Luke went away to fetch glasses. He didn’t like this technical truth any more than outright lying. Jesu.

  Alice followed him. “Can I use your loo? Loo. I’ve always wanted to say that.” She giggled.

  Luke smiled back. It was all going to be all right. This girl was pure sunlight. He would tell her. Just not yet. “Is this the part where you accidentally open the door to my room instead of the loo?”

  She rolled her eyes. “No. I don’t fancy peeing on beds.”

  Luke laughed. He pointed. “That’s my room to the right, and Alfred’s on the left. The door in the middle is the loo.”

  As soon as she closed the middle door, Jules opened the door on the left, thankfully no longer in full regalia, wearing a simple outfit of shirt and trousers. He staidly walked over at Luke’s frantic beckoning.

  “Call me Luke or Lucian, all right?” he whispered in fast Elmeran. “We’re in America anyway. Save your ‘my lord’ and ‘my lord prince’ for Elmera.”

  “If you say so, sir.”

  Luke glared. “Are you going to make me spell it out? No ‘sir’, no ‘your highness’, none of any of my titles of address.” When Jules raised his eyebrows, Luke continued, “And you can’t mention Lorignac either. I’m Luke Neville. And you’re Alfred Neville.”

  “And I’m Jules Alcantara and king of the Belgians,” said Alfred, popping a cucumber sandwich into his mouth and then grimacing at it.

  “By all rights, you should be Mr. Fired, you do know that?” Jules said blithely. Alfred gulped down some water. Whether from the sandwich or the chastisement, Luke couldn’t tell. Perhaps both. Jules turned to Luke. “My lord—”

  “Luke.”

  “Luke, you should move to the house. It’s ready and you will be better looked aft—”

  “For once in my life, I don’t want to be looked after. I’m staying here. You can go back to the house if you wish.”

  “Do you think Miss Martelli will appreciate this?”

  “For God’s sake, man,” Alfred said. “Loosen up. You can’t just go around revealing you’re a prince to people you want to get to know.”

  Both Luke and Jules were surprised at that. Alfred usually stayed out of it when Jules was castigating Luke.

  And then it was Jules’s turn to surprise Luke by actually inclining his head to Alfred. “You have a point. That is all I concede, however. Don’t you watch... movies?”

  Luke and Alfred were taken aback. “You do?” they said simultaneously. Luke almost said that he knew Jules liked children’s cartoons. Jules curled his lip at them.

  “In movies, concealments like this don’t turn out well. But it’s your necks. Our guest seems to have disappeared,” said Jules.

  Luke fairly ran to the loo. “Alice? Are you all right in there?”

  “Yes.” Her voice sounded tiny. “Um, just a second. I’m waiting for it to scoot.”

  “I beg your pardon? Can I come in?”

  “No! You’ll kill it.”

  “What will I be killing?”

  “A spider. Um, huge. On the door. On the door jamb. If we move, it might leap onto me or get squished.”

  Luke sighed in relief. She hadn’t screamed. She was just waiting for it to ‘scoot’. But she sounded terrified.

  “It won’t leap onto you, Alice. I’m coming in and pulling you out.”

  “Easy for you to say! You’re not the one trapped in a tiny room with a spider!”

  She squeaked when he opened the door. And then she expelled breath in relief when the spider just scuttled away to the ceiling, which made Alice walk away from under that ceiling and out into Luke’s arms.

  “Whoa, that is really huge.” The spider was as big as his hand. Where did that come from? Fortunately, it found the window and went right out. He hoped it had another shelter away from the winter. And then there was only Alice, feeling so soft and so perfect inside the circle of his arms. He wished it had been a dragon or something a little more fearsome, and then he might at least be rewarded with a kiss. But holding her was a fine prize as well.

  “Spiders are nice bugs,” she said. “But they do intimidate me.”

  And then she seemed to notice where she was and blushed and pushed gently away.

  Luke entered the loo next and splashed cold water on his face. He really was putty in her hands, and she hadn’t even done anything but be herself, soft, silky, smelling of apples. Gods above. What will happen if she seduced him? His life was already plotted before him. Certainly the royal blood could use an infusion from abroad, but how could he ask her to take up a lifestyle that even he disliked? He would grow old in his throne room, dreaming of the girl who got away. Well, he was resolved to create some good memories if they were all he would have of her.

  He forced his mind away from the sweet smell of Alice and the curious way she stared at him with those grey eyes. He had to get a grip on himself. He thought instead of something far less pleasant, such as Jules and his SpongeBob boxers. But he caught himself still remembering the feel of Alice’s arms and breasts.

  Oh, bollocks. Jules and his SpongeBob boxers. Jules in a thong. Jules sunbathing with Mrs. Meyers, the housekeeper at one of the cottages. With a shudder of revulsion Luke was free to leave the water closet.

  When he went out, Alice was with the others on the balcony. They were all eating the sandwiches, even Alfred, defying Luke as always. Jules looked friendly rather than stern, his lips curled in a genuine half-smile rather than in displeasure.

  “Are there still any for me?” Luke said.

  Alice looked up at him with a smile and it was all he could do not to swoop down and nuzzle that neck. “Here,” she said, pushing her plate in front of the only remaining chair around the small wrought-iron and glass table. “I’ve eaten my fill. I claimed these for you to save them from Jules’s huge appetite.”

  This sent Luke and Alfred into guffaws, because the real Jules hardly ate anything, not in fron
t of them.

  “I have to go anyway,” said Alice, and Luke immediately stopped laughing. Alice stood up. “I’m enjoying myself but I have chores and Sunday stuff to do.”

  Jules had risen as soon as Alice did. Now he took Alice’s hand and bowed over it. “May I be of assistance?”

  “Oh, thank you, no. I can manage.”

  “It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Martelli.”

  “The pleasure was all mine, Mr. Neville.”

  Jules looked startled at the comeback. And then he smiled. Luke deftly pulled Alice out of there before Alfred could reach for her, leaving the bugger to simply call out, “See you again soon, Alice!”

  In the living room, Luke slid his hand from her arm to her hand. “Do you have to go? You haven’t seen my bedroom yet.”

  Alice laughed, already in her pretty lavender coat. “What a line! By all means, let me see it.” She freed her hand and unceremoniously went to his room. She flung the door open and then stood at the doorway with arms akimbo. “Yes, inspection passed, I think. You make your bed?”

  “Of course I make my bed, ma’am.”

  She nodded and closed the door. He was living out of steamer trunks in a bachelor pad. It told her a little, but not enough. “You talked about cleaning services as if you haven’t ever done dishes your whole life.” She paused and eyed him contemplatively from across the room. “You probably haven’t.”

  “No,” he answered honestly, and left it at that.

  “Oh. Neither have I. Too many books, so little time. That’s what dishwashers are for anyway.”

  He really could adore this woman. He crossed the distance between them in a few strides and stopped when she had to tilt her face up at him, those delicious lips so close, so tempting. “When can I see you again?”

  “Come to Strand. You can see me there,” she said jokingly.