“No, you most certainly do not,” he growled. Micro-white shorts exposed miles of leg down to high-wedged sandals with little leather flowers. She looked sexy. Edible. Tempting.
When what she ought to radiate was a “don’t touch me” vibe. Unapproachable. Don’t even have a passing thought because my boyfriend who has been trained in sixteen ways to kill a man with just his hands will get jealous…
“That works, since I still don’t feel like a princess.” Kelsey stage-whispered the last word, cupping her hand around her mouth and not quite hiding a grin. Which just made her even more adorable.
But maybe he could turn this into a useful conversation. Part of tonight’s planned lesson. Casually, he asked, “What’s a princess supposed to feel like?”
She gripped the old-fashioned, wrought iron light pole with both hands. It was topped with a glass lantern and a black crown that matched—in miniature—the official state crown used in coronations. “Wise. Caring. Just. Patient. Kind. An extension of your people.”
“You’re describing a saint.” It was hilarious, how far from the truth it was. The public might put them up on a pedestal, but Elias knew all too well that the Villanis were merely people. Ones with problems and heartache and worries like everyone else in the kingdom. “I can’t speak for your sister, but I know your brother wishes he had far more of those traits. Especially when he loses to me at darts. The only one he thinks he’s nailed is caring.”
“Well, he’s not king yet,” she said.
“I doubt the king feels all those things, either. The royals try. They work at it. Their commitment to caring is the key. And you’re a natural at that.”
Planting one foot on the base of the pole, she spun around it in a wide circle. “I don’t know who I’m supposed to care for. Or about. I only know Americans. Their grit and independence. A streak of ‘we can do anything’ a mile wide.”
He caught her by the waist and lifted her high overhead, continuing to turn as she laughed in joy. Didn’t even worry about what the rest of the detail would think. Their convenient cover tonight was to “pretend” to be on a date.
Marko’s idea. For which Elias owed him a very nice bottle of vodka.
Elias set her down. Then he pulled the hat a little lower over her face. “That’s part of the reason behind tonight’s excursion. You’ve been sheltered in the palace. No wonder you haven’t connected to the citizens of this country.”
“I never thought I’d want out of a palace, but I’m thrilled to be in a noisy crowd, on the street, sucking down scooter fumes.” Kelsey tipped her head back, holding her floppy brim with her fingers, and inhaled deeply.
Okay, that was weird, but still adorable, which just showed how completely gone over her he was. And ignoring his feelings for the princess was like trying to ignore gravity. It was simply there, whether you acknowledged it or not. Still, he was pissed at his lack of self-control at falling for Kelsey in the first place.
So his response came out terse. “We call them motorbikes.”
“Potato, potahtoe. They’re painted in sherbet pastels. Pale green, pink, peach. No self-respecting motorcycle would put down its kickstand next to one of them.”
Amused again, he asked, “Would you prefer it black and painted with flames? Or skulls?”
“I mean, I wouldn’t be brave enough to ride it. But it would be bad-ass. Very fun to watch.”
“Well, I brought you here to watch something else.” Elias led her up the slope of the double-story stone bridge. The height at its apex gave a perfect view of the town square in front of the towering pink cathedral.
Kelsey did a double take as the wall of sound hit them from the enormous crowd. “Wow, there are a ton of people down there.”
“Indeed. Do you see they brought picnics, children?”
“Is it a festival?”
“Ha. Of a sort. See those people on the steps of the cathedral? They’re here to talk about what happens if Moncriano joins the European Union.”
“A debate?”
Her American-ness was showing. Elias firmly believed they had a better system. “No. A debate turns into an argument, or worse, a shouting match.”
Kelsey shrugged. “That’s politics.”
“Where you used to live, definitely. Tonight?” He pointed. “There are five main speakers. Each gets equal time to speak their piece. Then anyone else can stand up and share their own views. No interruptions.”
Her jaw dropped. “Seriously? Hundreds of people are giving up a beautiful summer evening to listen to fervent monologues that either pro or con joining the European Union?”
“Not just here. It’s happening every night this week in the six biggest cities in Moncriano. The crowds will be just as big at every location.”
“If I saw it in a movie, I wouldn’t believe it.” Kelsey tapped her temples and then exploded out her fingers. “You’re blowing my mind a little right now.”
“Good. I thought it’d make an impression on you.” It was satisfying to hear the awe in her voice, see the spark in her eyes. For his people. For their people.
She laid a hand on his crisp white shirt. Worry knitted her brows together. “Will it stay peaceful?”
“If history is any measure, then yes. These people aren’t grumpy at doing their duty. They’re making a night of it, listening to all sides, all opinions offered, because they want to do what’s best for Moncriano.”
Was he coming on too strong? Elias didn’t have the luxury of taking baby steps. Kelsey’s two-week deadline was almost up.
Christian had asked him to show Kelsey why she should stay. This gathering wasn’t the waterfalls at Mount Llubejc, or a concert in the high meadows. Those things were merely pretty wrapping.
What she watched now was the beating heart of the kingdom.
Elias hoped it was enough.
“Everyone’s wearing blue and white. Everyone.” With a laugh, Kelsey plucked at her top. “Even me, accidentally.”
“They are the colors of our flag.”
Her hands flew to cover her mouth. “Oh. I didn’t know. That’s silly, isn’t it? It feels like a basic, like the Pledge of Allegiance…which I don’t even know if you have something similar here. I’m failing at Princess one-oh-one.”
Elias slapped the wide stone railing with his palm. No wonder she hadn’t realized. Everything in Alcarsa Palace was the purple of the royal standard. How could he make her understand a lifetime of devotion to the realm, when she didn’t know as much as a child entering primary school?