The Royal Pain. MaryJanice Davidson

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      “Not before you get shot,” she replied, and shouldered her way past him. A good trick, since he had, at best estimation, four inches and thirty pounds on her. He got a whiff of eucalyptus as she brushed by, and he almost reached out to see if her black, shoulder-length hair was as silky as it looked. “Dr. Rivers and I will be right out,” she added, and closed the door on the protests of everyone else in the party.

      The princess (princess! in his lab!) looked around the small, cluttered room for a moment, her small hands on shapely hips. Then she glanced back at him. He actually forgot to breathe when those crystal blue eyes fixed on his.

      “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced,” she said pleasantly.

      “And I don’t think your security team is going to like this at all.”

      “I’m Alexandria Baranov—”

      “I know.”

      “I’m talking now, please. And you’re Dr. Rivers. You’re also rude and annoying, which is fine, but nobody slams a door on me.”

      “Especially when your family built half the aquarium,” he snapped, trying not to look at her breasts.

      “Irrelevant. I wouldn’t tolerate that behavior if you were funding my work. What a disaster area,” she continued, turning in a circle to take in the whole room. “How do you find anything in here?”

      “None of your business.”

      “I think we could find some paperwork to prove that isn’t true. What’s so important? What are you working on?”

      “Is playing twenty questions part of the tour?”

      “No, it’s part of being relatively pleasant. And why did you dodge the tour? You don’t even know me.”

      Because she was rich. Because he was busy. Because she was a princess and he was a lowly Army brat. Because she was too beautiful. Because she was trouble with a capital T, and he’d had enough of that to last five lifetimes.

      She was waving a hand in front of his eyes. “Dr. Rivers? Hellooooo? Is anyone in there? Is it lunchtime already?”

      He jerked his head back and gave her a good glare. “I’ve got more important things to do than play tour guide for a stuck-up VIP.”

      He was sure she’d get pissed, but instead, those amazing blue eyes crinkled at the corners and she grinned. “I bet you don’t,” she said, and turned to reach for the door handle.

      “Okay, okay,” he said, grasping her elbow. She took his wrist and pulled it away, almost absently, and in the bottom of his brain a small red flag popped up. “I’ll give you the damned tour. But no annoying questions.”

      “You’re a fine one to talk about annoying,” she retorted.

      “And no potty breaks.”

      “I went on the plane.”

      “And I’m not going to be doing this all day, either.”

      “You can’t,” she pointed out. “I’m having lunch with Dr. Tomlin in three hours.”

      “Another rich fat cat,” he muttered.

      “Did you just call me fat?”

      “Hardly. In fact, when was the last time you had a meal?” She was gorgeous—she more than lived up to her moniker as one of the most beautiful women in the world—but too skinny. The planes in her face made her blue eyes seem enormous. “Or even a milkshake?”

      “I don’t know,” she said absently. “It’s probably on the schedule somewhere.”

      Another red flag popped, and he was so intrigued he almost forgot about his experiments. “Well, there’s a snack bar on the second floor. Maybe we can grab some fries or something. Although, once you have to watch Dr. Tomlin eat, you’re gonna lose your appetite. Assuming you ever had one.”

      “That’s all right, Dr. Rivers.”

      “Shel.”

      “Shel. You don’t have to worry. I’m not even hungry. And I’m Alex, by the way.”

      He shook her small, cool hand. His wrist was almost twice the width of hers. Definitely needed a few milkshakes, among other things.

      “It’s nice to meet you, Alex.”

      “What a lie, Dr. Rivers.”

      He smiled in spite of himself.

      Chapter 8

      The Sitka Palace

       Juneau, Alaska

      “So, how’s she doing?” the king asked, glancing up from the bill he was reading.

      Edmund handed him two reams of paperwork. “Fine, Your Majesty. They landed without incident; she’s at the facility right now.”

      “When’s she due back?”

      “Nineteen days, Sire.”

      “Nineteen days? How long’s it take to look at a bunch of fish?”

      “Your Majesty—”

      “I mean, I know we talked about her meeting up with all the funders and—and whatever the hell else she’s doing out there, but nineteen friggin’ days?”

      “She’ll be fine, Sire.”

      The king glowered, blue eyes—eyes he’d passed on to all his children—narrowing. “I’m pretty sure I didn’t agree to the kid disappearing into the wilds of North Dakota for almost three weeks. I agreed to a quick trip. I agreed things couldn’t go on the way they were. I agreed the shrink wasn’t helping. I did not agree to the kid disappearing for practically a damn month.”

      “Sire, you agreed she was ready for a change.”

      “I smell you and Jenny all over this one, buddy boy, don’t think I don’t.”

      “Yes, Sire.”

      “I would have remembered a nineteen-day itinerary. I’m not that fucking senile.”

      “Don’t underestimate yourself, Sire.”

      “Knock it off, Edmund. A quick trip to this aquarium place, that’s what we talked about.”

      “Yes, Sire.”

      “The kid’s only twenty-three, she’s never been away from home for more than—than—what?”

      “Fifteen days. And Her Highness is twenty-five.”

      “Oh, sure, throw that in my face, you scheming son of a bitch.”

      “Sire, СКАЧАТЬ