work for me. I’m king, I’m pulling rank.” He glanced at her leg, then met her gaze. “You need to ditch your stockings.”
Erin’s heart climbed into her throat. Seeing the unswerving determination in his eyes, she held her breath for a full moment. She opened her mouth and closed it, then cleared her throat. “Could you please turn around, sir?” she asked in a voice that sounded high-pitched to her own ears.
Realization crossed his face. He shrugged. “Sure. Let me know when you’re ready.”
Try never, sir, she thought, as she pushed her stockings down her legs with unsteady hands. The horrified face of her finishing-school teacher flashed before her eyes. Erin had known this assignment would be challenging, but she’d never imagined finding herself in such an awkward position. Stepping out of her pumps, she pulled the shredded hose off her feet and tried again to collect herself.
“Ready?” he asked as if he had eyes in the back of his head.
“Yes, sir,” she said reluctantly.
He turned around and lifted his hands just above her knee to the scraped place on her leg. Her leg automatically stiffened. His gaze shot up to meet hers. “Sore?”
“A little, I suppose, sir,” she managed, too aware of the fact that His Majesty was kneeling before her. She felt the threat of her dreaded secret nervous response and closed her eyes. She took slow, soothing breaths and pictured a peaceful Swiss snowfall.
An odd intimacy seemed to swim between them when he touched her thigh. His hands were gentle as he cleaned the scrape and applied antibiotic ointment. He put on the bandage and Erin opened her eyes. She caught him looking at her painted toenails.
She couldn’t resist the urge to curl her toes into the carpet.
He skimmed his hand down her leg to her feet, sending an odd ripple through her. “These are going to get cold. I can give you some socks,” he offered, rising to his feet.
He looked down at her and held her gaze for a long moment in which the world seemed to turn on its axis. Erin held her breath. She watched his gaze dip to her lips for several heart-stopping seconds before he glanced away. Briefly, he shook his head, almost as if he’d considered kissing her, then come to his senses.
Erin wondered when she would come to her senses.
“Socks,” he muttered. “They may not make the kind of fashion statement you usually make, but you’ll be more comfortable.” He narrowed his eyes.
“Come to think of it, you’re not going to want to go back to your hotel with bare legs. I’ll get you a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt.”
Erin felt a rush of panic. Wearing His Majesty’s clothes? How had this situation gotten so totally beyond her control? “Thank you very much, sir, but it’s truly not necessary.”
“Of course it is,” he said. “It’s January in Chicago. No one in their right mind faces the elements with bare skin,” he said, then his eyes glinted with masculine intensity. “Although it’s a damn shame to cover legs as nice as yours with sweatpants.”
Erin’s heart skipped over itself, and a rush of emotions swam through her. How was she supposed to accomplish her job, maintain appropriate distance and, as her father had requested, subtly discourage Daniel from accepting the throne, when Daniel was clearly determined to treat her as a human being more than as a protocol instructor? How, in heaven’s name, was she supposed to maintain her equilibrium when this man emanated enough electrical energy to burn her to a crisp?
Two
As Erin sat on Daniel’s couch, it occurred to her that it was tough to remain proper and starchy when she was wearing a sweat suit that swallowed her. She stiffened her back. “I brought several books for your reference, sir,” she said. “This one is the most complete. I have another on royal etiquette, and I brought a book with pictures of the military uniforms you’ll wear for a variety of occasions. Some people absorb information more easily if it’s introduced in a visual manner.”
Daniel thumbed through one of the books and gave her a considering glance. “You thought I might need a picture book?”
Oops. She hoped she hadn’t insulted his intelligence. “With all the information you’re being given, sir, I thought it might be easier if some of it weren’t delivered to you in such a dry manner.”
One side of his lips lifted in a half grin. “I’m curious what you’ve been told about me.”
Erin sifted through half a dozen things her father had told her that couldn’t be repeated. “I know you’re thirty-four years old and you are Vice President of Marketing for the Connelly Corporation, sir. I’ve been told you attended college with a football scholarship and you’re as American as—” She searched her brain for the correct term. “As popcorn,” she said. “Or is it pie?”
He flashed his teeth in a grin. “Both will do.”
“The most important thing, sir, is that you are the eldest son of Princess Emma, which makes you the natural heir to the Altarian throne. And you are consenting to relinquish your life as an American to serve as King of Altaria.”
He nodded. “Just to fill in a couple of blanks, I graduated from Northwestern with degrees in Business Administration and Philosophy. Do you have a laptop at your hotel?”
She nodded, wondering where this was leading.
He gave a careless shrug. “If you’re interested, Northwestern has an informative Web site.”
Erin had the uncomfortable feeling that there were quite a few gaps in the profile of Daniel she’d received. “I’ll do that, sir.”
Daniel glanced back at the book. “Let me get this straight. Part of my job is to appear at various events in these military uniforms.”
“Yes, sir,” she said. “Traditional decorum provides a certain security for the people.”
“Okay. Will there be someone at the palace who will be knowledgeable about what uniform I wear when?”
“Of course, sir. You will have at least two royal dressers at your service.”
“In that case, I could safely delegate the task of whether I wear red or blue to one of the royal dressers, right?”
“I suppose, sir. I thought that since there will be a significant difference in your attire, you would prefer to be informed.”
Daniel shut the book with a smile. “As long as nobody puts me in a pink tutu, I really don’t give a damn.” He laced his fingers together and leaned toward her. “I’d really rather know more about the people of Altaria.”
Erin blinked. This definitely wasn’t going as planned. Her father had instructed her that if she couldn’t discourage Daniel from accepting the throne, then she needed to convince him that the position of king was more decoration than substance. “The people of Altaria, sir?”
“Yes. You’re Altarian. How would you describe your people?”
“Warm and caring, sir,” she said, thinking of the island people who provided services
