“I’ve already called Mum and made the request for you to have security officers with you at all times.” He brings his hand up, stopping me before I can interrupt. “I know you won’t like them, but I can’t have anything happening to you.”
“Right, because it’d be terrible if your fiancée were to be hurt.” I roll my eyes.
“Stop it, Zara.” His voice is firm. The hands on his hips tell me now is not the time to argue, but feck it, I’m in a fighting mood.
“This isn’t a love match. We’re not in love. Why are you so upset by the truth?”
“Just because we’re not a love match doesn’t mean I want to see you get hurt! I’d have to be pretty cruel to leave you to the wolves.” His voice rises with anger.
“They are terrible, aren’t they?” James’s anger on my behalf takes the fight out of me. “Will it always be this bad?”
“The press can be great when things are going well. But when there is a scandal? Forget about it.”
“So, every day of your life then?” I give him a playful smile. My nerves are settling. I can’t think about my violin, or the anger will return.
“Ouch. I like this cheeky side of you, Z.” My cheeks pink at the nickname. I’ve never let anyone call me Z before. But when James does it? I quite like it.
“What can I say? I guess I’m feisty when I’m tossed around.” That takes the laughter right out of him.
“Can I take a look at your face?” He touches my cheek where it stings.
“Sure.” I’m tired. A headache is forming, and the adrenaline from the day is fading.
James’s hands are gentle on my face. “Got a plaster? You’re bleeding a bit.”
“Really?” I rush to the mirror, and sure enough, blood is caked on the small cut under my eye. Grabbing James by the elbow, I direct him to the half bath at the end of the hall.
“Pop up.” He pats the counter and I do as he says. He’s focused on the task at hand, digging out the plasters from the first aid kit.
I wince from the pain as he dabs antiseptic on the cut. “Ouch! Is that really necessary?” He takes my face in his hands, blowing gently on the cut. I’m starting to like the feel of his hands on me.
“You don’t want an infection.” His eyes bore into mine. He’s ready to fight me on this. I give a subtle nod, allowing him to continue.
“Besides, maybe this will give you some street cred with your students.”
I grab his hand, dodging his touch. “Have you ever met a music student before? I think I would get more street cred if I met the conductor of the London Symphony Orchestra.”
“And here I thought I was one of the cool kids,” James says on a laugh.
“I’m pretty sure everyone tells you you’re one of the cool kids just so they don’t hurt your feelings. That or they want to meet the Queen.”
“Wow. So much for progress.” His touch is light as he puts the plaster on my cheek. I hate to admit it, but it really does feel better now. James drops his hands on either side of me on the counter. We’re at eye level.
James has some of the most expressive eyes I’ve ever seen. They really are the windows to his soul. Whatever he’s feeling, you can see it in his eyes. His blue eyes are dark now, fighting a storm of emotions.
“Zara. I know this wasn’t in your plan. I’m dragging you through the weeds, just to change the world’s view of the ‘playboy prince.’ If it’s too much, you have to tell me now. Fuck whatever agreement our parents have. If you can’t handle this, say the word.”
The kindness in his eyes settles me. I made a promise to him. I hate going back on my promises. Aside from that disastrous first meeting at the palace, James has shown me nothing but compassion.
“Whatever your decision, I’ll respect it. If you want to walk away, I’ll respect that. I know this isn’t what you signed up for,” he says as he cups my cheeks.
The heat from his touch is new. Not like the other times he touched me tonight. No.
This feeling is new.
The butterflies are new.
The need to taste his lips is new.
