“Beauty demands admiration,” he said with his heart and not his head, and the atmosphere suddenly changed.
She swung around and pinned him with an intense, level gaze. “What?”
“Um, I said…” If he said it again, he feared actual sparks might snap in the air. “The dress… It’s beautiful.”
He felt hot, more than the July heat warranted.Steady, mate, you are still in love with your gorgeous, talented, amazing wife.Nevertheless, he was also a man—and not a stupid one.
“Ah, your phone.” He handed over her device. “Sorry it took so long to get here but Gunner took a while with his errands.”
“Turns out I didn’t need it.” She unlocked her phone and checked her messages, sighing as if relieved. “He didn’t call again, did he?”
He? The boyfriend. The reality of her past as well as his doused a bit of reality over his romantic sensations. “He did not.”
She exhaled and handed back her phone. “Can you put it on the chapel steps?”
“Don’t just stand there, Prince John, move in, look like a man in love.” Taylor circled, aiming her camera.
“I couldn’t possibly.”
“Taylor, stop,” Gemma said. “Leave him alone.”
“I’m far too common to be in the photo with Gemma.” John motioned to his shorts and T-shirt. But oh, he was anything but common.
“Click-click with my editing software and you’re wearing an Armani tux.”
“I can’t,” John said, though a part of him wanted a picture with this beautiful woman. “Too risky. If it went public—”
“Your Royal Highness, I understand your position.” Taylor came behind him and shifted his position and raised his chin. “If these get out, the press will have you engaged and down the aisle before you know it.”
“Yes. Fueled by the pressure to take my future king oath, which requires me to be married—”
“I get it. Trust me. These are for me.”
“You can trust her, Prince, but you don’t have to do this.” Gemma leaned toward her friend. “Does he, Taylor?”
“I can’t resist shooting a stunningly gorgeous couple. It’s against my photographer’s oath. Besides, when am I going to get a chance to capture a crown prince on film again?”
“I’ll hire you to come to Lauchtenland.”
Taylor continued circling, snapping pictures, giving small commands that they each obeyed with puzzling curiosity.
“Taylor, stop, give him a chance to walk away.” Gemma held up her hand to block the next shot.
“If you want out, move, sir,” Taylor said, all the while circling, capturing everything with her lens, and John, whether by want or reflex, posed and smiled.
When she was satisfied, she asked Gemma to break away so the prince could pose on his own.
Taylor promised a thumb drive so he could use them for himself. John agreed a photo of him alone might make a good gift for Mum. Most of the photographs of him on the Family mantel were with Holland.
Meanwhile, Gemma walked off toward her ringing phone. When she answered, her speech spiked the fragrant air.
“Never… You heard me. Matt…not your business.”
John had one ear on Taylor and the other on Gemma.
“Put your hands in your pockets…now take them out…good…walk away…come toward me…raise your chin just…perfect. One more…look at me.”
Meanwhile, Gemma gazed off toward the shadows of the shading trees. She seemed so frail. The call demolished the confidence she exuded a few moments ago, the confidence he saw the day they met.
