happier and more comfortable a century or two ago.
“Adam.” She tried to speak a little louder but her voice came out as a hoarse whisper. Danni swallowed. All she had to do was wake him and then back out of the car. She leaned closer, steeling herself to try again. Ordering her voice to be normal. It was only Adam after all. She’d known him most of her life though five years and infinite degrees in rank separated them.
His eyes flew open. His gaze locked on hers and for a second, darkened. Not a hint of lethargy there. Danni’s mouth ran suddenly dry. “Can I help you?” he asked, his voice low and silky with a hint of mockery as though he knew she’d been staring. Fascinated.
Disconcerted by the intimacy she’d imagined in his gaze, she responded with an unfamiliar heat quivering through her. “Yes. You can help me by waking up and getting out of my car.”
“Your car, Danielle?” He lifted one eyebrow.
“Your car. But I’m the one who still needs to drive it round to the garage,” she snapped. Oops. Definitely not supposed to snap at the prince, no matter how shocked at herself she was. Definitely not appropriate. But her curt response seemed almost to please him because the corners of his lips twitched. And then, too soon, flattened again.
Danni swallowed. She needed to backpedal. Fast. “We’ve reached the palace. I trust you had a pleasant evening.” She used her blandest voice as she backed out of the car. Stick to the script. That was all she had to do.
Adam followed her and stood, towering over her, his gaze contemplative. “Very. Thank you.”
“Really?” She winced. That so was not in the script. What had happened to her resolve to be a shadow?
His gaze narrowed, changing from contemplative to enquiring with a hint of accusation. “You doubt me, Danielle?” A cold breeze wrapped around her.
Well, yes. But she could hardly say that and she oughtn’t to lie. She searched for a way around it. “No one would know other than yourself.”
“No, they wouldn’t.”
She willed him to just step away from the car. Go on into the palace. Get on with saving the nation and the world. Then she could close the door and drive away and get something to eat. And it would be as if tonight had never happened. There would be no repercussions. Not for her and not for her father.
But he didn’t move. He stood absolutely still. Her stomach rumbled into the silence.
“You haven’t eaten?”
“I’m fine.”
Again the silence. Awkward and strained. If he would just go.
He stood still. Watching her. “I didn’t realize you were driving for us again. I thought you were in the States.”
“I was for a while. I came back.” Three-and-a-half years ago she had moved back for good. “But this is temporary, just for tonight in fact. I’m staying with Dad and he had something come up.” Danni held her breath. Did he remember the ban? Would it matter now?
He nodded and she let out her breath. “Everything’s all right with him?”
“Absolutely. A sick friend. He’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Good.” Adam turned to go into the palace and then just when she thought she was free, turned back. “What was it you said?”
“He’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Not then. Earlier. When you were driving.”
All manner of desperate, inappropriate words raced through her mind. No, no, no. He couldn’t have heard.
“I can’t remember.” So much for her principles. She was lying through her teeth.
“It was around the time I got the laptop out to show Clara the geographic distribution of lava from the 1300 eruption of Ducal Island.”
She did roll her eyes then; she couldn’t help it. He was too much. “My point exactly,” she said, throwing her hand up in surrender. “I said, ‘Way to romance a woman, Adam.’ Really. The geographic distribution of lava?”
His expression went cold.
There was a line somewhere in the receding distance, one she’d long since stepped over. Her only hope was to make him see the truth of her assertions. “Come on, Adam. You weren’t always this stuffy.” She’d known him when he was still a boy becoming a man. And later she’d occasionally seen glimpses of an altogether different man beneath the surface when he’d forgotten, however briefly, who he was supposed to be and just allowed himself to act naturally.
Now wasn’t that time.
His brows shot up. But Danni couldn’t stop herself.
“What woman wants to talk about lava and rock formations on a date?” Too late, Danni remembered the saying about how when you found yourself in a hole the best course of action was to stop digging.
The brows, dark and heavy, drew together. “Clara is a Fulbright scholar. She studied geology. She was interested.”
“Maybe she was. But surely she can read a textbook for that kind of thing. It’s great if you’re planning a lecture tour together but it’s hardly romantic. Where’s the poetry, the magic, in that? You weren’t even looking into her eyes, you were looking at the screen. And did you even kiss her when you escorted her to her door?”
“I’m not sure that’s any of your business, but yes.” Somehow he’d made himself taller.
She wasn’t going to be intimidated. “Some kiss, huh?”
“And you’d be an expert on kissing and on romance? What would you suggest? Discussing the specifications of the Bentley perhaps?”
Danni took a little step back as though that could distance her from the stab of hurt. She liked cars. She couldn’t help that. Wouldn’t want to, even if Adam, who she knew for a fact also liked cars, considered it a failing in a woman. “No. I’m not an expert on romance. But I am a woman.”
“You’re sure about that?”
This time she didn’t even try to hide her mortification. She took a much bigger step back. Her heart thumped, seeming to echo in her chest. She clamped shut the jaw that had fallen open.
Her uniform—a dark jacket and pants—had been designed for men and adapted for her, the only female driver. It was well tailored but it wasn’t exactly feminine. It wasn’t supposed to be. And it was nothing like Clara’s soft pink dress that had revealed expanses of skin and floated over her lush curves. Danni had always been something of a tomboy and preferred practicality along with comfort but she still had feelings and she had pride and Adam had just dented both. Adam, whose opinion shouldn’t matter to her. But apparently did.
Shock spread over his face. Shock and remorse. He reached for her then dropped his hand. “Danni, I didn’t mean it like that. I meant I still see you as a kid. It still surprises me that you’re even old enough to have your license.”
She shoved the hurt down, tried to replace it with defiance. “I got my license over a decade ago. And you’re not that much older than me.”
“I know I’m not. It just feels like it sometimes.”
“True.” It had always felt that way. Adam had always seemed older. Distant. Unreachable.
He sighed and closed his eyes. When he opened them again he said, “I’m sure you’re a fine woman, but it hardly qualifies you to give me dating advice. I’ve known enough women.”
“I’m sure you have,” she said quietly. Of late there had been quite the string of them. All of them beautiful, intelligent and worldly, with much to recommend them for the position of future princess. But despite those apparent recommendations, he’d seldom dated the same woman twice. And never, to her knowledge, a third time. She didn’t