15 Shades Of Pink (53 page)

“I find that hard to believe.” He was quiet for another moment, and she hoped to hear his footsteps headed her way, but no such luck.

Well, he’d taken a chance coming down here; now so would she. “You have a wonderful, talented staff. The only thing missing from dinner last night was you. I’d be so pleased if you’d join us tonight.”

He didn’t answer right away. That was a good sign. “I will have Nicholas let you know. I usually take meals alone.”

“I certainly hope you consider it. I’d love to get to know you.”

“I must warn you, if you like things flawless, you will be disappointed.”

She cursed to herself. “I like flawless work. Human beings are flawed by nature. I find new flaws in myself every day. Why just last night I made a prince feel uncomfortable in his own home.”

“And I made my guest feel unwelcome. We’re even.” Another pause. “I will join you for dinner, Miss Foster. But on my terms. I’m not as comfortable with my flaws yet as you are with yours. And you have none from where I’m standing.”

Thank god her back was to him so he couldn’t see her blush. “Whatever your conditions are, I’m fine with them. And I look forward to dinner.”

“As do I.” She could hear the grin in his voice, then quiet footsteps headed toward the staircase.

***

Clothes were strewn about the room, and another shirt went flying onto the bed. It didn’t matter what he’d be wearing. She’d be able to see nothing but the scars on his skin, the shame on his face. Would she pretend they weren’t there? Should he tell her right from the start what had happened to him? Address the elephant in the room the moment she arrived?

He’d been ridiculous agreeing to this. He was more nervous than the time he was first presented to the public as a full-fledged, adult prince. But he hadn’t wanted anything this badly since … well, he couldn’t remember. Since he was a child and longed for a suit of armor and a white horse on Christmas so he could be a proper prince? He took another look at the picture of Belle that Nicholas had printed from the internet, and that gave him the resolve to step into the first tux he’d tried on, slip into his cloak and shoes and head for the dining room.

***

Belle checked herself in the mirror one last time before she left for the dining room. She’d chosen the pale pink dress Mrs. Downing had bought her. She’d styled her hair in an updo, then changed her mind and brushed it out so it fell around her shoulders. Then she’d pulled it back; then took it down. She hadn’t brought much makeup, so she had to settle for the one shade of lipstick she’d brought.

As she entered the dining room, she realized it wouldn’t matter. The room was dark, save for two candles lit in the middle of the table. There were two place settings—one at the very end, and another three seats down. Three flower arrangements that looked like they belonged in a hotel lobby lined the table. Soft, classical music played from somewhere in the room. The aroma of a savory roast set her mouth watering.

Nicholas walked in and pulled her chair out for her. “Please have a seat. The prince will be right down. The rest of the staff has been given the evening off. I’ll be serving you tonight.”

Her eyes widened.

“Don’t worry. Courtney prepared the meal, but the prince … he wanted me to handle this most special occasion.” Nicholas lowered his voice. “Truly, we’ve seen nothing like this since his incident.”

Belle nodded, and her fingers shook as she spread the napkin on her lap, so she sat on her hands for a moment hoping to still them. Deciding a drink might help, she took a long sip of the wine already poured for her, wishing it’d been a shot of whiskey instead. The minutes ticked by. She finished the wine and wondered if she was being stood up.

And then the energy in the room changed. She didn’t hear him, but she knew he was there. She looked up, and he stood silhouetted in the entryway to the room.

“I apologize for my lateness, I was detained.” He sighed. “Actually, I was nervous.”

“Me, too. I’m just glad you came. It smells delicious and I’ve been dying to eat Courtney’s food. She’s incredible.”

She heard him laugh and felt embarrassed to have gushed over the meal. They weren’t here for the meal. “I was looking forward to seeing you as well.” She cursed herself for choosing the word ‘see.’ She sighed. The prince was sure to regret their dinner before the night was over. “I didn’t mean that I wanted to see….”

“You’re uncomfortable. I’m sorry.” He walked closer, but not too close, and strapped his arms across his chest. “Let’s just get this out of the way. My face was severely disfigured in an accident with a woman I didn’t treat well. As such, I can’t stand to see myself nor for others to see me.”

“Now wait a minute,” Belle said, annoyed. “It wasn’t an accident, she threw acid in your face. And it doesn’t matter whether you treated her well or not, no one deserves what she did to you.”

He said nothing.

“I can google you just as easy as you can google me.” So that was a bit of a lie, but she didn’t want to get the staff in trouble.

“Fair enough.”

“And you did say we should get this out in the open.”

He chuckled. “Indeed, I did. You’re bolder than your internet search indicated.”

“Trust me, Prince Maxim, I didn’t come to gawk at you. I came to meet the man who has a collection of antique inkwells from the desks of the most famous people in history. Who rescues Irish Wolf Hounds. And who builds an elaborate library he’ll never set foot in just so his books have a place to call home.”

“Precious things deserve beautiful surroundings. That’s why I insisted on decorating the dining room tonight. For you.”

Her blush must’ve been visible even in the dark room.

He walked past her to his seat at the end of the table. He wore a hooded cloak that hung well over his forehead. She doubted she’d be able to see his face even with all the lights on in the room. But if the candlelight made him more comfortable, she was glad.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I asked Courtney to make a few different entrees.”

“As long as it’s not sushi, we’re good.” She hoped she sounded calmer than she felt.

“How is your father?” He picked up his wine glass, swirling the liquid.

She smoothed her hand across the tablecloth. “The same. But he’ll get better. I know it.”

The prince nodded. “You’re a good worker, just like him. I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting the same quality from….” He let the thought hang there, but she knew what he meant.

“From a woman. I know.”

“No, I meant from someone so young. It takes a while to achieve the skill you’ve mastered.”

“I’m sorry. I just assumed you meant because I’m a woman.” She cleared her throat. “I’m a bit defensive. My ex-boyfriend left me because he was embarrassed by what I do.”

“Then your ex was a fool twice over—for leaving you, and for his reasoning. What you do is art.”

Her heart swelled. That’s what she’d always told her ex. She did consider herself to be an artist. “I’ve been working at my daddy’s knee since I can remember.”

“I’m lucky to have you here. And I’m sorry you lost your mother.”

It was so long ago, she couldn’t even remember her face without looking at a picture. “How did you know?”

He paused for a moment. “I asked Nicholas to tell me everything he knew about you.”

“Even the time I got grounded for smuggling a family of baby raccoons in my room when I was ten?”

“He left that part out. Nicholas!” he called. “You’re fired.” He laughed, a wonderful, confident laugh.

“Then maybe you also know I’ve been trying my hardest to sound formal and polished, but that just isn’t me.”

“Just be yourself, Belle. I like you.”

“As long as you’re being yourself, we’ve got a deal.”

“Good.”

Dinner was soon served, and their conversation flowed naturally, but she kept her gaze averted for much of it, hoping she wouldn’t lose the easy rapport they’d fallen into. But she couldn’t help wondering how the evening would end. Things were fine so long as they were ten feet apart. Would they get any closer than that?

But after dessert was served and their coffees were drained, the prince rose from his seat, and tugged his cloak down over his forehead. “Close your eyes,” he commanded.

Of course, she looked at him and blinked instead. “Why?”

He laughed softly. “You’re the first woman to question everything I do. It’s different. Will you just trust me and close them?”

“Okay.” She closed her eyes and heard him walking toward her. Then he lifted her hand, pressed his lips against her palm and said, “Goodnight, my artist.”

She shivered. “Are you ever going to feel comfortable letting me see you?”

“I hope so.”

***

It went better than he could have hoped for. Belle was funny and kind, challenging and intriguing—qualities he couldn’t have gleaned from Nicholas’ search. It would’ve been so much easier if she’d been a doting bore, because he didn’t know what to do with this feeling echoing inside him; familiar and strange at the same time.

But having dinner in a darkened dining room was one thing. What was next for them? What could a man—voluntarily confined to his chambers—offer a bright, curious, beautiful woman?

He ran his fingers over his face. Was he remembering his scars to be worse than they really were? The rough edges of the damage felt like an old puzzle he hadn’t attempted to put together in a long time. Right after the accident when he was sent home and the searing pain had disappeared, he couldn’t keep his hands off his face; touching it again and again to prove to himself this had really happened.

He had to see for himself. He hadn’t looked at his own face in two years. Maybe it wasn’t so bad. He was building it up in his mind, that was it. The only mirror in his room that wasn’t covered in black paint was tucked in a trunk in the back of his closet. Rifling through shoes and clothes and boxes of unopened liquor, he pulled the trunk out and took a deep breath.

He brought the mirror close to his face, so he could only see his eyes. Fortunately, his vision had been spared, although the scarring did pull open his left eye ever so slightly so that half his face looked perpetually surprised. The left side of his face from the cheekbone down had suffered most of the damage. He pulled the mirror slowly away, revealing the smooth, raised scar in a shape almost perfectly circular on his cheek. Then it traveled down to his chin, pulling half his mouth down in a permanent grimace.

No, it wasn’t as bad as he remembered; it was worse. He threw the mirror across the room and opened the bottle of scotch sitting on his desk. He’d been a fool thinking Belle could ever be interested in him.

Vivian was probably laughing from above.

Scratch that. She was laughing from the depths of hell.

***

Three days later, Belle couldn’t shake the disappointment that the prince hadn’t come to see her again while she worked. And she was really hoping he would have arranged another private dinner. Perhaps he’d only been kind, pretending to be interested in their conversation. Perhaps she’d been too bold. Or maybe too boring. She sighed as she sanded a piece of trim.

She hadn’t told her father about the prince’s behavior during her trips to the hospital. She’d visited her father twice since she’d moved into the prince’s apartment. Her father’s condition hadn’t worsened, but it hadn’t improved either.

She was finishing another bookcase when she heard a voice in the hall. “You’re making quicker progress than I’d imagined. I hope you’re not in a hurry to leave.” It was Maxim.

Her heart tightened. “I thought you’d be pleased I’m efficient.”

“I’ll have to come up with a few more projects for you.”

She nailed the piece of trim in place, aware he was watching her every move. “What else do you have in mind?”

“You tell me. What would you do if this were your home?”

She sat back, still without looking in his direction. “If this were my home, I’d want a big workshop to use for my furniture making business. I’d revamp the ballroom and throw wild parties that left all the neighbors gossiping, and I’d be sure the banister was strong enough so I could slide down it each morning instead of taking the stairs.” She felt herself blushing and looked down at her hands, still clenching the hammer. “Of course, that’s quite a bit different from what you want, I’m sure.”

“I’m sure you can understand why I’m not one to throw parties.”

She sighed. It might cost her her job, but she was just going to come out and say it. “Maxim, you are a funny, kind, generous man. Do you really think I or anyone else would think any differently after seeing the scars on your face?”

He didn’t scream or order her out. No, it was worse; he said nothing.

She softened her voice and set down her hammer. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Trust is a hard thing to keep after what happened to me, Belle.”

“Then she’s going to punish you from her grave forever. Maxim, I like you. I’d like to get to know you better. But if you’re not willing to take the chance, I understand. I think you and your staff and even this beautiful apartment deserve to hear laughter and joy again.”

He said nothing for so long, she figured he’d left. But then he sighed and said, “Would you do me the honor of joining me for dinner again?”

“In candlelight and shadows again?”

“I’ll do my best, Belle. I’ll leave you to your work now.”

***

Belle chose the dress she’d worn the first night she joined the staff for dinner. Surprisingly, no one had questioned her about her dinner with the prince. She headed for the dining room, hoping to find it brighter than last time, but again, only a few candles lit the space.
At least he’s coming
, she thought.

She took her seat as before, but didn’t have to wait as long for him to arrive this time. “I’m not ready to abandon the security of the darkness yet, Belle. But I may have a surprise or two for you.”

“I like surprises.”

They chatted about their travels; his thirty-two countries, to her twelve U.S states.