met his gaze over the rim of her glass. “So tell me.”
“Tell you—?”
“What dream did you sacrifice, Prince Philippe?”
Philippe leaned back in his seat. This conversation had just become a great deal more interesting. And dangerous. “I asked you,” he reminded her, “to call me Philippe.”
She was flirting with danger, Ella knew. With disaster. Why had she asked Philippe such a provocative question? She didn’t want to get personal with the prince. She didn’t want to know him. She just wanted to do her job and do it well, as she always did. It was what gave her a sense of both purpose and happiness, and the last thing she needed was Prince Philippe upsetting both of those.
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