“I’m fine, really.” She slipped on her sunglasses and rubbed her head again. The sting was nearly gone.
“Are you sure? I’d better have a look.” The dog, Adler, remained at her feet and swept the sand with her tail.
“It’s not necessary, really, but thank you.”
“I heard it hit from twenty yards out.” She winced as he gently touched her chin and tilted her head. He smelled of soap, sun, and surf. “Adler goes a bit crazy when I bring out the Frisbee.” He stepped a bit closer. “No blood. Not even a bump.”
“I’d hate to think I could be dented by a dog’s toy.” Daffy pulled away and gave him a slight once-over. Very nice. America was looking better and better all the time.
She liked the sound of his laugh, which felt oddly familiar. Besides his rather well-crafted physique, which he showed off proudly, the chap sported a thick beard and a mass of wavy, dark-brown hair knotted on his head. A few loose tendrils curled around his neck.
“Let me help.” He gathered the dropped snack items and handed them to her.
“Thank you.” She clutched the items to her chest and extended her hand. “I’m Daffy.”
Their eyes met as he raised his hand to hers. But only for a moment. Then he jerked around and walked away. “Come, Adler, now.”
But the dog hesitated with a whine and rested her nose on Daffy’s foot.
“Adler, come.” He added a whistle to his command.
Twenty yards way, Leslie Ann and Ella peered over the back of their chairs, watching the entire scene.
Adler glanced at Daffy, twitching her fluffy eyebrows up and down and shifting her gaze between her owner and Daffy.
“Adler. Now.” The American returned, flashing the chewed plastic disc. “Come, girl.”
But she refused to move and added a quick lick to Daffy’s toes.
“Go.” Daffy pointed to Adler’s owner. “Go on now.” She looked at the American chap who had yet to give his name. “Perhaps if I throw the Frisbee.”
“No, thank you. Adler, I said come.” He softened his tone as he crouched down. “Are you all right, girl? I don’t know what’s gotten into her.”
Poor bloke seemed rather frustrated now. “Dogs like me.” Daffy ruffled Adler’s ears. “But not this much. Do you think she’s hurt?” She inspected her forward paws.
“Here, let me.” He inspected her back paws with his back to Daffy. “No, nothing.” When he started to move, Adler bounced up and tripped his step, causing him to crash into Daffy.
Together they stumbled backward and fell into an awkward dance as they attempted to stay upright.
“Adler,” he said. “What in the world? I am so, so sorry. She’s never—”
Their eyes locked. Daffy gasped as he looked away.
“Your Royal Highness.” She released him, a warm blush creeping across her cheeks. “W-what are you doing here?”
Really? After eighteen years? He still made her blush?
“Shhh. Don’t give me away.” He put his back to the beach, to Leslie Ann and Ella, and positioned Daffy in front of him. “I’m an American named Pete George. Are you sure you’re all right? You look flushed.”
“I’m fine.” Daffy rubbed her hand over the rosy warmth. “Your Highness, you’re not an American. You’re Prince Augustus Carwyn George of Lauchtenland’s House of Blue.”
“Yes, of course, of course, but for now… Say, remember when we used to play pirate in the crow’s nest at Hadsby?”
“Once. I only went to Hadsby two summers.” When Mum was the queen’s secretary.
“I was Pirate Pete.”
“And now you’re American Pete?”
