Page 5 of The Princess and the SEAL

Chapter 2

Giselle

“YOU’RE A FUCKING PRINCESS? Are you kidding me?”

“Yes, indeed, I am. Could you please lower your voice? And I would appreciate it if you would refrain from swearing at me. I find it very jarring.”

His eyes widened. “I’ll talk however I want. This is my vacation, and I’m not one of your subjects.” He scratched a hand along his full dark beard, highlighted by the silvery moon. “You’re royalty, and you’re traveling without protection? Not a good idea, Princess.”

He obviously had a point. My father had warned me against going alone, insisting I travel with security, but for once in my sheltered life, I’d stood up to him. I told him that if I was old enough to get married, I was old enough to travel alone. But he’d been right. Clearly, I had been unable to take care of myself. Just the thought of calling the palace to tell my father I’d been mugged was worse than being cursed at by this foulmouthed stranger.

Make that an incredibly sexy foulmouthed stranger. Ryan was the complete opposite of my blue-blooded fiancé.

He typed something on his phone. I leaned over; he was staring at my official photo. Ugh, I hated that photo. It was so airbrushed that I looked like I was made out of plastic.

His eyes darted between his phone and my face.

“Yup, that’s you. Wow, I thought you were lying.”

“I never lie.” To other people, that was. I only lied to myself.

I could see his eyes reading over my Wikipedia page. I cringed—my public relations team made me sound like a perfect, prim prude of a princess. Mentioning that I was the spokesperson of True Love Waits, which promotes abstinence until marriage, didn’t exactly say sexy. I closed my eyes and prayed that he didn’t read that, and if he did, he didn’t know what it meant. I might as well have the word virgin tattooed on my forehead.

I stammered, at a loss to explain myself.

What should I say?

As if he could sense my uneasiness, he put his hand on my shoulder. “I’m impressed.” He then bowed dramatically in front of me. “Let’s go, Your Majesty. Your royal escort awaits.”

Great, now he would treat me differently. For once, I’d wanted to be seen as just a normal girl. I hadn’t planned to tell him I was a princess until after dinner, hoping he would get to know me first. But that photographer forced my confession.

We arrived at a bistro with a red awning and neon lights. A chalkboard outside listed the specials, and the scent of rosemary, thyme, and bay leaves made me salivate.

“Is this place nice enough for you, Princess?”

I was used to restaurants with three Michelin stars, but I never enjoyed them. The food was always excellent, but I found the atmosphere pretentious.

“It’s lovely.”

Ryan spoke to the maître d’. “Table for two.”

The man attempted to store our luggage, but Ryan stopped him and asked if we could keep the bags near us. I almost laughed and accused Ryan of being paranoid—I seriously doubted the maître d’ would steal anything, but clearly, Ryan was overly cautious. The maître d’ agreed reluctantly and then seated us at a table in the back of the restaurant. The lights were dim, and I was grateful that the bistro had very few customers.

I felt a flutter in my stomach. What if someone recognized me? But the other patrons didn’t even seem to glance at us, so I studied the menu and tried to relax.

Now that I could see Ryan better, I was taken aback by how handsome he was. His brown hair was longer than I figured men in the military would have, and his soulfully deep brown eyes were accented by long black eyelashes.

Ryan ordered a bottle of Bordeaux. I quickly glanced at the wine list—he had chosen the most expensive bottle in the restaurant.

Was he trying to impress me? My skin heated up—was it hot in here, or was I just a nervous wreck? This was starting to feel like I was on a blind date.

Was this a date?

“You really don’t have to do this. I can pay you back tomorrow.”

He shot me an intense glare. “I got this. I don’t need your money. I’ve never been out to dinner with a princess. Let’s just have a good time tonight.”

He relaxed those broad shoulders back into the chair, his gaze lighter than before. “So, tell me, why are you traveling alone? Must need a break from all your tough work of attending balls and kissing frogs.”