Page 27 of Scarred Crown

“What are we doing?” Julia asks, tearing her gaze from the window when Kafil and I open our doors.

She’s been avoiding me, which is quite a feat when there are only three of us. Not once has she directed a question or spark of excitement over an animal in my direction. While she watched the male lions, I watched her. Solitude is my thing, but her obvious and enthusiastic delight about everything on this drive is causing my too-small heart to grow a few sizes. Perhaps sharing this particular adventure with someone, with her, isn’t so bad.

“Sundowners and snacks,” I answer, though she directed her question at Kafil, not me.

“We’re getting out of the vehicle?”

I suppress a smile at her panicked tone. “Yeah, we do that sometimes. Live life on the edge.”

She almost had a coronary when Kafil mentioned a lack of public toilets. Coping a squat behind the vehicle hadn’t occurred to Julia, and quite genuinely, I forgot to mention that tidbit before we left. She probably thinks I didn’t tell her on purpose. I suspect her bladder will explode before she notifies Kafil or me she needs to pee.

“Wine spritzer?” Kafil asks, ducking his head into the vehicle to address Julia, who hasn’t moved from her seat.

“Is it really safe out there?” She peers out the window at me, where I’ve already cracked a beer.

“Safe enough,” I say. “When did you become a chicken shit?”

“Are you kidding, Nick? There are animals out there that could tear me limb from limb. They could eat me.”

“I doubt they’d find you tasty enough.” I sip my beer and avoid eye contact. The animals might not want her, but I’m not so lucky. Even sitting in the vehicle with a stick up her ass, I’m drawn to her. Is it this version of her, or the one from my memory? Jules and Julia inhabit the same body, but they aren’t the same person.

“The chance of any sort of attack is very, very slim,” Kafil assures her. “Come have a drink. His Royal Highness said you like wine spritzers?”

“I don’t really drink anymore.” She ducks out of the vehicle and stands beside me before moving to put Kafil’s cooler of drinks and snacks between us.

“A wine spritzer is hardly a drink,” I say. “Do you do anything fun anymore?”

She bristles and turns toward Kafil. “Just water is fine, thanks.”

Jesus, even when I try to do the nice thing like ask him to pack her favorite drink, she shoots me down. Jules used to love wine spritzers, and at the last palace event, I’m sure she drank at least one. Didn’t she? As if I don’t know, keep tabs, unconsciously monitor her movements in a crowd. She had one. I’m sure of it.

I shift toward her, prepared to make another biting comment about her selective drinking, but the fading sunlight skims along her cheekbones, and the comment dies on my lips. She’s luminous, staring at the Serengeti spread out before her. Jules’s enthusiasm was always contagious, infected me more than once. The sheer delight in her expression coupled with the fading light steals my breath.

“Oh, my God. Are those giraffes in the distance?” Excitement lights up her face, and she points at the tall figures striding across the horizon.

The hard knot in my chest releases, and I drink my beer in silence while Julia and Kafil chat about what we may or may not see on the drive back once the sun has set.

Kafil breaks out the snacks, and we eat in companionable silence while the sun dips into the horizon, coating the long grasses in a golden glow. Thanks to her time in the palace, Julia can crank up the charm, pepper a room with small talk, and coax a reluctant guide into loosening up his perceived royal protocol. Not that I’ve asked for much in the way of special treatment. The location of my meals, but otherwise, I try not to flex my royal might on trips like this. I relish the chance to disappear, sink into a different life.

Not far from us, a lone hyena wanders down the gravel road, his head low while he whoops for the rest of his group.

Instinctually, I move closer to Jules, and when she glances up at me, the current of our earlier animosity has vanished. Her blue-gray gaze softens, and the joy and contentment in her expression sucks me down like an undertow.

“You worried he’s going to attack us?” Her lips twist into a wry smile. “Want me to protect you?”

“Would you?” Hadn’t been my own safety that drew me to her, but no point in admitting that outright. “Die for The Crown?”

“For The Crown?” Her voice is husky.

Somehow we’ve ended up so close our free hands are brushing together. The urge to run my fingers along hers, lace them with mine strikes me. When was the last time I held her hand? I used to drag her around everywhere until something as simple as her palm pressed to mine became a grenade. The urge to seize her hand, pull the pin, battles with my sense of self-preservation.

Fucking pheromones are still ruining my life.

“I have a gun,” Kafil reminds us, breaking the moment. “No one will die, just the animal.”

Julia steps back from me and gives a little shake of her head, confusion marring her features. She clears her throat, and the moment between us dissipates as though it never happened.

The world is full of attractive women, and I need to learn to leave this one alone.