I get myself into position once more, pushing thoughts of Fabiana, my sisters, my nieces and nephews, and anything else that’s intent on distracting me, from my mind. My breath is even and controlled as I line up my target, the inner yellow circle my sole focus. I pull back and let go of the arrow, watching with satisfaction as it slices through the air, hitting the target with a satisfyingtwang!
“Well done, Max!” Sofia exclaims, her eyes bright. “You hit the outer red. You're doing so much better than last time. Have you been practicing without me?”
“Why would I want to practice archery without my bossy older sister to tell me what to do?” I throw her a sardonic smile.
“Very funny,” she deadpans, barely cracking a smile. “You do realize you wouldn't be this good if I hadn't taught you, don’t you?”
I slide another arrow from my quiver. “You just keep telling yourself that, sis.”
I wait as Sofia lines up her target and sends her arrow on its trajectory with practiced ease, hitting right in the center of the yellow.
“Stop showing off, will you?”
She shrugs. “I can't help it. I'm good at thisbecause I practice.”
“Really? You've never mentioned it,” I reply, because if there's one thing you can rely on with my oldest sister, it's that she's a firm believer in the old adage practice makes perfect.
I'm lining up for my next shot when an all too familiar voice interrupts me. “Good morning, Your Royal Highnesses.”
Fabiana Fontaine, the woman who seems to have taken up permanent residence in my mind.
Startled, my fingers release the arrow, which falls short of the target, slicing into the dirt.
“Bad luck, sir,” she says.
I turn towards her. Just like yesterday, she looks that particular combination of smug and hot she does so well, completely out of place in her skirt and blazer, like one of those sexy double agents from WWII.
“You put me off,” I grumble.
“Max, play nice,” Sofia warns. “How are you finding things in the palace, Ms. Fontaine?”
Fabiana does a low curtsy, which is no small feat in her pencil skirt. “It’s been a very interesting experience so far, ma’am.”
“There's no need for formalities,” my sister replies. “We’re all off duty here.”
I harrumph, and both sets of eyes land on me. “What?” I ask as though I'm entirely innocent of scoffing when we all know I did.
“I suppose you mean Ms. Fontaine is working,” Sofia replies pointedly.
Sure,that’swhat I meant.
Fabiana holds her phone aloft. “Okay if I take some footage?”
“Of course,” Sofia replies for me. “That’s what you’re here for.”
“Thank you. I'd love to capture both of you if I could?” She steps over a tree root in her high heels. “Ready when you are, sir.”
There's something in the way she says the word “sir”.It's respectful, sure, and appropriate since I'm a member of the royal family, but it's got a teasing, sexy undertone that sends an involuntary shiver through me.
“Why don’t you call him Max?” Sofia asks. “Sir is so formal.”
“It’s the way I’ve always been told to address a member of the royal family. Your Royal Highness first, and then sir or ma’am next. Ma’am.”
Sofia laughs. “Call me Sofia.”
“Only if you call me Fabiana,” she replies.
“Deal. And call Mr. Grumpy here Max.”
