The Sunset building, but The Starlight building, as well. For the latter, he had woven a bit of romantic intrigue into his story, while highlighting some pieces from the antiquities collection and the island’s early history collections.
Now they were once again coming to stand beneath the domed ceiling in the front entryway. It was about half an hour before closing, so there were other customers milling about this area, as well. When she overheard a member of the group asking if the tour was over, Val remembered she was actually supposed to be working and cleared her throat.
“Let’s give Prince Roland a hand for the wonderful tour he’s hosted for us this afternoon,” she said and began clapping so that the group members would follow suit.
Roland looked at her and then back to the crowd, but Val did not continue to stare at him. Instead, she moved through her closing soliloquy.
“The gift shop is open for one hour after the museum actually closes, so please feel free to head in that direction. As it’s nearing dinnertime, may I suggest taking the island trolley over to the northern side of the island where restaurants and other nightlife spots are open and waiting to serve and entertain you. If you’re staying on the island for a few days, there’s a candlelight dinner boat ride at the port tomorrow evening. And, for younger guests, there will be face painting and a magic show on Main Street beginning tomorrow at noon. We thank you and appreciate your visit to Grand Serenity Island.”
This was when the crowd usually departed. But there’d been nothing normal about this tour so far, so Val should have known better than to expect that.
The woman with the Southern drawl came up first, asking for an autograph and picture from Roland. He smiled and obliged. And then repeated that task for the next seven women who did the same. Val watched as he easily slipped his arm around each woman’s shoulders, leaning in so as to make each picture look personal, intimate, even. The women were glowing, their smiles big and bright—even the ones that were with their husbands—which amused Val, but probably annoyed their men. Roland also talked to each one of them, asking where they were from, how long they were staying on the island and what they liked most about Grand Serenity. The most intriguing part of that was that Val was certain he actually listened to each woman’s reply.
The great womanizer was being attentive and patient, and looking damn good in the process.
And she was being silly.
With a shake of her head she moved a little closer and announced that the picture Roland had just smiled for was the last one. Of course she received irritated stares, but she didn’t mind. Adults never liked being told what to do and when to do it. She knew that because she’d hated when her father had done the same. But this was different. This was work. It was her job to have this foyer clear within ten minutes of closing time. If they moved down toward the gift shop, that was fine, as it was a separate building and the exhibit halls could be locked off while the store stayed open.
“Thank you, everyone, for visiting Grand Serenity,” Roland said, backing up her statement that the museum was closing.
“We hope you enjoy your time here,” Val added.
She said this to every group after every tour, but this time she knew they’d enjoyed the tour. If nothing else on this island pleased them, this would have been enough.
When the last person was through the archway, Val walked to the circular desk closest to the door. It was white marble, and black letters on the wall behind it read Tour Information. That’s where she worked. It was where the tours were booked and started. In a safe behind that desk were her purse and jacket. She bent down to work the combination lock and retrieve them.
“Let’s get some dinner,” he said the moment she stood.
“What—excuse me?” she asked, and then cleared her throat. “I mean—”
“Dinner. You know, the last meal of the day. You sit down and eat and think of all the right and wrong things you may have said or done over the last twelve hours.”
He was leaning on the desk now, the darkness of his suit in contrast to the crisp white decor. He wasn’t giving her the full Reckless Royal smile, just a slight lift of his lips in the right corner. But that was enough. She reacted even as she wished she hadn’t. Her cheeks warmed, just as they had earlier, and she licked her lips nervously.
“I’m sure you have better things to do, Your Highness,” Val answered. Willing her fingers not to shake as she pushed her arms into her jacket, she cleared her throat and continued. “Or was there a reason you came to the museum today? I probably should have asked this before, but should I get the manager? I’m sure he’s still here. I can just—”
She came around the desk and attempted to walk across the foyer once more to head toward the staff offices on the other side, but he touched her elbow again to stop her. Maybe it was just this particular spot...she’d never have guessed her elbow would be an erogenous zone...but each time he touched her there—
“I came to ask you to dinner so that we can clear the air,” Roland told her, cutting off her thoughts.
Val shook her head. “There’s no need,” she insisted and moved her arm slowly out of his grasp.
He looked down, watching as she slipped her purse onto her shoulder. “I’m fine. You’re fine. We should just go our separate ways.”
Roland seemed to contemplate her words—for much longer than Val thought was necessary—before finally giving a little nod.
“I’ll agree that we’re both fine. But I’m hungry and after being on your feet all day, I’m sure you are, too. So let’s just get something to eat and get that part of the evening out of the way.”
It occurred to her to refuse again. Yes, she thought, that was the best thing to do. Her father could be a mean drunk whose debts were far larger than his bank account, and for that Val had endured her share of pitying looks and uninvited advice from the citizens of Grand Serenity. The deal her father had supposedly made for her to marry Prince Kristian was another source of contention where Val and the good people of Grand Serenity were concerned. They’d whispered about her and the prince all her life, and when the prince finally announced that there was nothing between them and that he would be marrying another woman, the whispers turned into vicious gossip. The poor little town girl trying to get into the palace.
Val didn’t know which situation she despised more. What she did know was that she was sick and tired of it, and she definitely did not want to do anything to spark any more stares or whispers or gossip about herself. So she should tell Prince Roland no. She could have dinner on her own, as she had planned.
“Come on, don’t be afraid,” Roland told her. “I’m hungry, but I won’t bite. I promise.”
The expertly cut goatee went a long way to giving him a mature and masculine vibe. But it was that devilish grin, the twinkle in his rich brown eyes and the divine way in which that damn suit fit his toned and muscular frame, that were the deal breakers.
“I’m not afraid of you,” was her reply. “And I’m in the mood for pasta.”
It rarely rained on Grand Serenity, less than twenty-five inches were received a year.
This
