Page 45 of The Prince Who Loved Me

“Yeah, that’s what I meant.”

Once the cheeses were done, the servers cleared their dish and the chardonnay. Brandi took the opportunity to check her phone while Alberta introduced the Malbec and the small plate of salami, chorizo, and prosciutto to go with both the red and the leftover Malvasia. “Notice how the different wines bring forth different aspects of the meats.”

“I haven’t had a Malbec before.” Nick examined his glass before turning to Brandi. “Everything okay?”

She shoved her phone back in her pocket. “Sorry. A friend of mine was out of town this weekend and I wanted to see if he made it back yet.”

Nick raised an eyebrow at the pronoun, but didn’t comment. “I might have to swallow this to see what actually drinking it would be like. Will you be disgusted? I mean, it’s not spitting.”

“Swallowing is definitely better. I might even watch.” Ah, crumbs. That statement.

Fortunately Nick didn’t read anything into it. He took a sip, humming his approval as he made a note on a sheet of paper. “This is really good with the prosciutto.”

“Maybe I can hosts events like this at Fountenoy Hall,” Brandi said, tapping her finger against the glass. Or Belle’s. She’d have to make sure it wouldn’t overrun any Hall budget if she did it, though. The goal was to sell wine, but it would give Belle’s more publicity.

Another plate was put in front of the with two new wines. This date really was a good idea. Brandi studied Nick while he wasn’t spitting out his drink. Warm brown eyes complete with smile crinkles. Dressed up for the occasion – not too stuffy and not too casual. Definitely put some thought into his appearance. The maroon-ish shirt and pair of jeans was a good third-date look. Plus he chose something he thought she’d be interested in, breaking the dinner and movie mold but not raising it to a high-stakes adrenaline junkie situation. She could make it work with him.

Dammit, she could.

“What?” Nick had noticed her staring. “Do I have something…” He rubbed the corner of his mouth with his hand. “Better?”

“Perfect.” Brandi leaned over and tilted her chin up.

He took the cue and brought his lips down on hers in a sweet, gentle, caress. He tasted tart and citrusy. His fingers lightly brushed her jawline before he leaned back.

“Damn,” he said. “You beat me to it. I had it all plannedfor when I walked you to your car afterward.”

“There’s nothing to say you can’t follow through on your plan,” Brandi said. She cast her eyes around the table and found everyone staring at them, smiles on their faces. They thought they were seeing love blossom. What they were really seeing was an experiment.

If it worked, where did that leave Sebastien?

She took another mouthful of wine and closed her eyes. Sebastien knew everything about her and loved her anyway. Where would she ever find someone else like that?

But Nick was nice. Charming. Not as charming as… argh, stop it. She needed to focus on her date, not the man who had begun to creep into her every thought. She turned away and spit out the wine.

“This was a really great idea. You’ll have to let me plan our next date.”

Nick’s hand rested on the table, and she put her own on top. He stared at it, then cocked his head to look at her. “I can’t wait.” His voice came out like a caress.

More guilt stabbed at her. What would her mom do in a situation like this?

That answer was easy. Go with the man who had more money.

Crumbs. She gave Nick’s fingers a squeeze, letting her hand linger on his.

He kissed her again when the date was over, a perfect third-date kiss. A little more heated, little more contact, a little more caressing. The Old Brandi would have been half-naked in his car by now, eager to exchange her body for promises. The new fully-clothed Brandi waved to him as he walked to his car.

One more check of her phone. No news was good news, right?

She started the ignition, noticing Nick hadn’t driven awayyet. He was also on his phone, and gave her one more wave as she pulled away.

She pulled up to the employee lot at Fountenoy Hall, ignoring the pang she felt when Sebastien’s car wasn’t there. He deserved to have fun, no matter where he was or who he was with. Any kind of fun he wanted. She could have fun, too. If she wanted.

Then why did the site of his empty space leave her so melancholy? She slumped on the wicker furniture on the back patio, looking up at the clear sky. At least, she would be if it weren’t so cloudy. And if that wasn’t a metaphor for something, she didn’t know what was.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket and she whipped it out, hoping to see Sebastien’s name on her display. Disappointment snuck through her when she saw it was only a text from Wendy.

When are you coming home?