Chapter Seven

Amber tried to hide her amusement when Nik held out the high-backed wooden chair for her and then waited until she was seated before sitting himself.

She glanced around noticing how busy the café was. They were lucky to get a seat. The Blue Pacific was a small retro café just inside the mall. It had a juke box and sixties advertising slogan banners on the wall. It was one of her favorite places to eat, and she was happy Nik had agreed to give it a try. The freshly baked cupcakes were binge-worthy.

“Thanks.” She grinned, unable to stifle her feelings any longer.

“Have I done something funny?” A hurt expression crossed his face.

Amber immediately wanted to smack herself. She hadn’t meant to make him feel bad. It was just that his old-world manners were so…lovely. And unusual in a seventeen-year-old guy. Who wouldn’t want a guy to open doors and be so considerate? It would just take some getting used to without feeling the urge to collapse in a heap of laughter every time.

“Sorry. No, of course not. Does everyone in your country treat girls like this?” Her eyes locked with his ice-blue ones, and it was like an electric current shot down her spine. It was a good thing she was already seated, because she suspected her knees might have given way. Not the look she was going for.

“What do you mean?” Nik frowned.

“You know. Opening doors. Standing when they get up to leave. Holding chairs. It’s so old-school. Like you’d read about in novels.”

She’d always loved historical books and movies. Her friends thought she was weird, preferring Jane Austen’s Darcy to Iron Man. But for her, there was no comparison.

“Manners are important at home.” He rested his arms on the table. A lazy smile played at the corners of his mouth. She sensed he was relaxing more. She liked it.

“Not like here, you mean?” She worried that he might think she was rude.

“It’s different,” he replied after a few seconds, his brow wrinkled. It seemed like he was trying to find the right thing to say. She hoped it wasn’t her previous remarks making him so cautious.

“How?” she encouraged. She loved listening to him speak. His lilting accent was incredibly hot, especially the way he accentuated the letter i in a word.

“It’s much more relaxed here. Where I’m from, everything is very traditional.”

That she could believe, just from his whole demeanor. She doubted he ever messed around in class or sassed his parents. “But you do have internet and stuff, don’t you?” She immediately regretted asking such a dumb question.

“Of course. I said traditional. Not archaic.”

She let out a soft groan. “Sorry. Stupid thing to ask. Ignore me.” Just once when talking to him, it would be nice if she could engage her brain before speaking.

“I wouldn’t do that,” he replied gently, his eyes appearing to linger on hers for longer than would be considered normal for friends.

Amber’s palms were sweaty. She felt like Mowgli in The Jungle Book when he was with Kaa the snake. Except it was Nik who was drawing her in and bewitching her. Making her think that anything was possible when they were together.

“So what else is different here from your country?” She sat upright in her chair and focused on the small vase filled with mini sunflowers on the table between them. Anything to keep her eyes from watching his lips move.

Who knew being just friends would be so complicated?

“My life at home is very formal. We dine at certain times, and only certain types of attire are acceptable. We’re generally more quiet and don’t get excited about things in the same way as over here.”

She averted her gaze back to him. No sign of humor on his face. He had to be telling her the truth. “You have to wear certain things when you eat? Like in Downton Abbey? You’re kidding, right?”

It was like he came from a different planet. She’d been to Europe, and it certainly wasn’t how he’d described.

“No, not kidding,” he replied, his voice serious.

“So you can’t eat breakfast in your pajamas?” she asked. Not dressing for breakfast was one of the things she loved most about vacations. If she wasn’t going out, she’d been known to spend all day in her PJs. Her parents didn’t mind.

“I’m talking dinner in the evenings. Though I do always get dressed for breakfast,” he added.

His whole life seemed so unreal. Nothing like the easygoing existence of living in America. “Being here must seem very strange. Do you think we’re all a bunch of bad-mannered loudmouths with loose morals?”

“Not at all. Americans are just different, but in a good way a lot of the time. It’s just been hard for someone like me to acclimatize. It helps being with you and Josh.”

She hadn’t really considered that he might actually feel uncomfortable about fitting in, or not. He always seemed so confident. Well, from now on, she would make more of an effort to help him settle.

“I’m glad to help. What do you think of it here in New Hampshire?” For some reason, it was important to her that he loved it as much as she did.

“It’s very remote, compared with what I’m used to.” His eyes glazed over for a moment. She guessed he was missing his home. She would if she were thousands of miles away.

“Do you live in the city?”

“Our main residence is in Mlanz, the capital, and we have several weekend retreats in the country.”

Several weekend retreats. How rich did that make him?

“Wow. Next you’ll be telling me you have servants.” She gave a loud, very American laugh and then slammed her hand over her mouth as his expression indicated she’d gotten it right.

“We do have staff, yes.” He shrugged like it was no big deal. Then again, why was she taken aback? Barden Heights was a top school. Lots of rich people went there, including the children and grandchildren of former presidents.

“Cool. What’s that like?” She’d love for her mom to have someone to do the laundry and all the chores in the house on a daily basis. Especially if it would mean that she wouldn’t have to clean her own room or clear the table after dinner or take the trash out.

“Shall we order? What would you like?” he asked, seeming to ignore her question.

Taking the hint, she picked up the menu and scanned it. “A Vanilla Chiller, please. And a cinnamon roll.” She reached in her purse and pulled out ten dollars. She held it out to him.

“No. I’ll pay.” He waved his hand dismissively.

“You don’t have to,” she said.

“You’re my guest. I’ll go and order.”

Not wanting to get into a debate about it, she returned the money to her purse and watched him head for the counter and stand in line. He oozed confidence. If his pale blond hair made him stand out, that charisma just put him over the top. Plenty of girls and probably a few boys were clearly checking him out, but he either didn’t notice or was very good at pretending not to.

Butterflies whizzed around her stomach. All her good intentions about not falling for him seemed to have fled. It wasn’t just his undisputed hotness. It was something else. Something intangible that mesmerized her.

Without stopping to think, she picked up her cell, zoomed in on him, and took several photos. She couldn’t resist. After all, it wasn’t like anyone would see them.

She placed her phone on the table and then glanced first at Nik and then back at it. She chewed on the inside of her mouth. What if he picked it up and saw the pictures? The ones he’d asked her not to take? She didn’t want to upset him.

She considered deleting them, but as she swiped through them, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. The boy really was ridiculously photogenic.

Quickly, she emailed all of them to herself and then hit delete. There—they’d remain private and just for her. Relieved to have gotten rid of the evidence of her sneakiness, she sat back in the chair and watched him.

…

Nik tossed a glance at the table where Amber sat. They’d had fun choosing him some clothes. Well, he certainly had, and it appeared like she had, too. Yet, despite all her teasing, she seemed to be holding back, like a shadow hid behind her eyes. Of course, that was likely the fact that she’d had cancer. Josh had told him she was in remission, but he wouldn’t blame her if she occasionally worried.

Still, Nik had to wonder if it was the only thing. He was usually good at working people out. It was essential, since there were so many opportunities for people to take advantage of his royal position. That was something drilled into him often by his parents. Don’t take people at face value.

“Are you ready to order?”

Nik started when the guy behind the counter spoke to him. He’d been so absorbed with thinking about Amber that he hadn’t realized he’d made it to the front of the line. He quickly gave their order, paid, took the numbered flag, and headed back to their table. Another new experience—his parents and circle of friends weren’t big on restaurants that didn’t offer at least five courses.

Amber seemed preoccupied with her cell and didn’t notice him until he was virtually on top of her. When she did see him, though, those dimples made yet another appearance. They would soften even the hardest of men. Which meant that she was officially weakening his defenses, and he had to tone down this “friendship” before it turned into something entirely too complicated.

Why? Would dating Amber really be a problem?

Only if she wasn’t interested in dating him.

“Hey,” she said.

“We’ve got to wait a while for our order. They said they were really backed up.” He placed the flag on the table and sat down.

“That’s okay. I’ve got nothing to get back for. Apart from math homework, which is so yawn-worthy.” She wrinkled her nose.

“I love math.”

Idiot.

“What?” Her eyes widened, and he was captivated by the sparkling gold flecks that flashed in them. So unusual for someone with such dark brown eyes.

“Yes. It’s my favorite subject.” He forced himself to stop staring so obviously in case it made her feel uncomfortable. He’d had an affinity with numbers ever since he first started school. His parents were pleased and hoped he would go on to study accounting and economics in college, which they considered to be very useful in their line of work. On this point, they agreed. Not because of how it would help but simply because he found it so interesting.

“You’re kidding. I get good grades in math, but I find it painfully boring. Why do you like it?” Amber looked shocked. He knew that not everyone liked math as much as he did, but he’d never come across anyone who seemed so against it.

“Numbers are predictable. Once you know the formula, they will always act in the same way.”

Even to his ears, it made him sound boring. Though that wasn’t what he meant. Predictability could be a good thing when you had the lives of others to consider. A definite plus when you’re a royal.

Not so much as a commoner.

“Where’s the fun in that? Where’s your sense of adventure?” she teased.

“I like adventure.” He didn’t want to fuel the impression he had given. “When I’m in control of it,” he murmured.

“However much you try, you can’t control everything.” Her eyes glazed over, and she looked like her mind was elsewhere.

He couldn’t understand her reaction, until it hit him. She must have been thinking about her cancer. He felt an idiot for upsetting her like that. Would he ever get it right as far as Amber was concerned, or was he destined to screw up every time?

“I just meant when it comes to adventure,” he replied, noticing that as soon as he’d spoken, she became alert again.

“That sounds like a cop-out to me,” she replied, her tone adamant.

“A cop-out?” he asked, not really understanding her meaning.

“Taking the easy way out. If you’re in control of your adventure, then it’s not a real adventure. You’ve taken the uncertainty out of it. And it’s the uncertainty that can get the adrenaline flowing.”

It might be exciting in her world. In his, uncertainty very often caused monumental problems. An unplanned visit somewhere could end up being plastered over the newspapers. Being seen out with a girl could result in all sorts of unpleasant speculation. One wrong decision could adversely affect an entire swath of the population. One wrong remark could sway a key vote in an unhealthy direction. The list was endless.

“So you’re into adventure?” he asked, wanting to turn the subject away from anything that might cause him to inadvertently reveal his identity.

“No. Not really. My brother’s the adrenaline junkie, to quote him. Skydiving. Rappelling. Caving. You name it, he’s tried it.” Amber leaned back in her chair. “The craziest thing I’ve done is paddle boarding on a calm river.”

“But do you like uncertainty?” he prodded, for no other reason than to see if there were any similarities between them at all. Of course, if it wasn’t for his background, then maybe he wouldn’t be so overly cautious. Or as Josh had said, such a stuffed shirt.

“Predictable can be boring, as I said before.”

He regretted ever talking about predictability in math because he wasn’t keen on the direction their conversation was headed. “You think I’m boring?” he asked, unable to hide the disappointment in his voice.

“No. I didn’t say that.” Her cheeks flushed a delicious pale pink. He loved how easily she blushed.

He gripped the table with both hands, in an attempt to stop from leaning across and sliding his fingers gently down the side of her face. A breath hitched in the back of his throat. She was getting to him in ways he hadn’t believed possible. And for once, he knew that whatever happened between them would have nothing to do with him being a prince. If she liked him, and he was hoping more than anything that she did, then it would be because of him as a person and nothing else.

“I was teasing,” he pretended, so she didn’t feel bad over what she’d said. He grinned and was rewarded by a brilliant smile from her in return.

“You got me that time.” She laughed, that loud, deep, very American laugh that was really starting to grow on him.

Nik simply watched her for a few seconds and then joined in. A genuine laugh that was so unusual for him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed so completely. It felt good.

As their eyes locked, his heart pumped. In that instant, he realized for sure that if he really was Nik Gustafsson, he would want them to be more than friends. To have a relationship.

But he wasn’t Nik Gustafsson. He was Prince Niklas III of Lutgenstadt. Whom the crown would deeply frown upon if it became public knowledge that he was “having an affair with an American commoner.”

And he couldn’t bring himself to start something with Amber, only to tell her it would have to be temporary, because he had a home across the ocean and a country that depended on him. She’d had enough heartache to deal with.

Plus, if things turned serious, he’d have to tell her who he was—and watch her attitude toward him change. It always did. Would she be starry-eyed? Would she stop standing up to him and become overly agreeable because he was royalty? Would he have to wonder from the point where she discovered he was a prince onward whether she still liked him for him or for his crown?

Maybe it was just better never to find out.