“What do you do when you’re not wooing princesses?” I ask as we settle on the bench. Rand pours us each a glass of champagne and sits close beside me.
He smells nice, a mix of soapy innocence and sexy musk, and his red hair is thick with just the right amount of curl that makes me want to run my fingers through it.
“Good to know that my wooing has been noted.” He grins. His cheeks are freckled, but the tan blends them together.
“We would have red-haired babies,” I say out of nowhere.
“And you’re already thinking of procreation?” Rand nods. “That’s very encouraging.”
“I’m encouraging until I have a reason not to be.”
“What did Asani do to give you a reason?” he asks. “Just to make sure I’m not following his lead.”
“He was nice,” I relent. “But…”
“But he might have had different views, like how he thought princesses are there to look pretty and help make the world more peaceful?” Rand grins at my surprised expression. “He made some comments in the house before you sent him home.”
I frown. “This is information I should have known.”
“You would have heard about it if you hadn’t sent him home,” Rand assures me. “There’s a bit of a protective vibe in the house.”
“About me?” He nods. “That’s sweet, but it makes me think of growing up with my brothers, and I don’t really want to think of any of you as a brother type.”
“Not even Spencer?”
“Spencer is my brothers’ friend, not my brother.”
“It’s cool. He seems like a good guy.”
“How’s he doing with the others? Starting late and all.” The question slides out before I can stop it.
I shouldnotbe talking about Spencer when I’m with someone else.
But Rand indulges me. “He’s been watching more than interacting. Getting the lay of the land.”
Because that’s what he does. Spencer observes to find out what he needs to know, then sets the stage for others to shine.
I wonder if he’s actually capable of taking the spotlight for himself.
But it looked like he’s doing fine with his dance earlier.
Enough about Spencer. “How do you like staying with twenty-five men?” I ask as I finish my champagne.
“Twelve now, until you send the next batch home.” He refills both of our glasses and clinks his against mine. “If we’re beinghonest, I’ll say that I really don’t want to be part of the next batch sent packing.”
“You like it here, then?”
“I’m in it to win it,” Rand vows. “Win the heart of the fair maiden.”
I lean back against the cushions and survey him. “Tell me something about myself that you don’t think the others know,” I invite.
Rand studies me. “You give off the vibe of being this incredibly amazing, vivacious woman, someone who can conquer the world if you put your mind to it.”
“Everyone knows that,” I say with a cool smile.
“I’m not finished. That’s what you show, what you want others to see. But I think, what I see, is that deep down, you’re a little lost. I think you want someone to step up and take care of you, but without telling you they’re taking care of you. Like your not-brother Spencer. I’m betting he’s always tried to take care of you, but lets you know what he’s doing. I don’t think you like that.”
I don’t reply because,wow. It’s like Rand took a peek inside me. I didn’t even know I had a problem with that.
